The Spartan Saga

[Swordmaster]

As some of you may know, last year (at around this time, actually), I wrote a trilogy of short stories about my amalgation of sorts between Spider-Man and Superman for pure enjoyment. But since then I feel I have grown as a writer, and feel I can add more depth to my admittedly shallow stories. So now I am going to rewrite all three (plus the two add in stories of this year) as a cohesive "book". On that note, I give you The Spartan Saga.
*********************************************************

After being exposed to an experimental serum, fifteen year old Kyle Wyatt gains incredible powers and abilities. Though he at first uses these abilities selfishly, he learns that the world truly needs a hero, and so he uses his powers for the betterment of others. As the hero Spartan, Kyle will face a nefarious organization, love and loss, and ultimately his identity.

The Spartan Saga

 

[Swordmaster]

Book 0
Prologue​

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter One​

November Twenty First:
Dr. Thomas Wyatt, M.D., stared at the various diplomas that adorned his office wall, running his hand through his thinning brown hair. Looking at the diplomas helped him remember the hard work that got him where he was today, and why he had chosen to help people at Xavier City Hospital, located just a bridge ride away from the town where he had taken residence, Riverside.
As he sat in his desk to attend to some paperwork, his phone rang. Picking up the receiver, he said, “Hello?”
“Is this Thomas Wyatt?” a petite sounding female voice asked.
“Yes?” the doctor said warily.
“Mr. Wyatt, I work at Riverside Community Hospital. It’s your wife, sir.”
Thomas tensed. “What about her?”
“She’s going into labor, sir.”
Thomas’ jaw dropped to the floor. He thanked the nurse and hung up the phone. Nina was going into labor? The baby wasn’t due for another month, though, as a doctor, he knew for a fact that baby’s could be born a month early.
Quickly grabbing his coat, Dr. Wyatt ran for his car and drove as fast as he could to the hospital. Unfortunately, the baby had picked Rush Hour to come out, so he was trapped on the bridge for about an hour. When he finally got to the hospital, he was sweating like hell.
He approached the reception desk, passing a white doctor and a black surgeon who were apparently a gay couple. Shrugging them off, he asked the nurse who sat behind the reception desk rather frantically, “Where’s Nina Wyatt?”
The nurse, a kind looking elderly woman, saw how anxious Thomas was, and personally escorted him to the room where Nina was staying. Panting, he asked, “Is she…all right?”
The nurse smiled and told him, “See for yourself.”
Nervous, Thomas opened the door, and his worried frown quickly changed into an ecstatic grin when he saw his wife holding a baby. Practically running to Nina’s side, he kissed her deeply, and when he was done looked at her warmly. Even though her shoulder length blonde hair was matted with sweat and her face was flushed a deep red, she still looked beautiful to him.
Thomas turned his attention to his child. “It’s a boy,” Nina whispered.
And so it was. Thomas looked with fatherly pride at his son, who was now sleeping, his puff of red hair glowing in the setting sun that was being reflected through the window.
“Thanks for showing up, by the way,” Nina jokingly chided.
Thomas blushed a bright shade of crimson, causing Nina to laugh. In turn, her laugh awoke the baby, who began to coo softly.
“He already has your eyes,” Nina said lovingly.
Thomas took a look for himself. Sure enough, he was staring at the eyes he saw every time he looked in a mirror. Thomas tucked a finger under the child’s chin, causing him to gurgle with joy, before going back into a fitful slumber.
Thomas smiled and whispered, “Sleep well, Kyle Wyatt.”
***
Hours later, a doctor walked into the room, where Nina and Thomas were talking about the baby and his future. Kyle had been taken for tests. The young doctor looked nervous and a little scared.
“What’s wrong?” Nina asked, her voice betraying only a slight hint of worry.
“Well,” the doctor stammered. “While we were doing routine blood work on your son, we came across an anomaly in his DNA.”
Thomas stood up and walked to the doctor, calmly asking, “And what does that mean?”
“Nothing,” the doctor said unconvincingly.
Thomas poked a finger on the doctor’s chest, and, ignoring Nina’s objections, asked, “Then why do you stammer so?”
The doctor looked from Thomas to Nina, and, swallowing, told them a large bit of information that not only would change the couple’s lives, but those of Kyle and the world.

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Two​

Kyle Wyatt, now aged three, walked cheerily with his mommy, Nina Wyatt, through the park. His puff of red hair had grown in to a thick bushel of it, and his intelligence was above average for that of a three year old child. As such, he was incredibly observant, and noticed that at times his mother seemed to be very weak and tired, even during the afternoon, when Kyle himself was at top strength. This was one of those times.
“Are you okay mommy?” Kyle asked, his eyes full of innocent concern that adults rarely, if ever, gave.
Nina smiled at her son, her pride and joy. Since Thomas spent most of the day at the office, Kyle never got to see him much. This is why he and her had developed such a special bond.
“Mommy?” Kyle asked. Nina shook her head. She had forgotten to answer him. She looked down and smiled.
“Yes honey, fine. It’s just…” she coughed, “I would like to sit down.”
Kyle grinned and ran ahead. Nina didn’t chase after him. She knew he wouldn’t go far, and he knew what to do if strangers came for him. Sure enough, not a minute later, Kyle called for her. He’d found a bench.
Nina walked to her son and the bench he’d found. It was directly facing a sandbox, where two little boys were playing. The bench was occupied by their mothers. She looked at Kyle as she sat.
“Thank you, sweetie. Why don’t you go play for a little while, and then we’ll go home?”
Kyle bobbed his head up and down and ran for the sandbox. As he came near the two boys, they looked up.
“Hi!” Kyle said enthusiastically. “Can I play with you guys?”
The two children stared at Kyle for a little while. One of them, a boy about Kyle’s size with curly black hair turned to his playmate, a barely smaller boy with brown hair that fell into his face just above his thick glasses. The latter child nodded enthusiastically.
Beaming, Kyle sat down and introduced himself. The black haired boy introduced himself as Leon Allain, and the boy wearing glasses went by the name of Jason Rider. The trio of boys played for about a half-hour, discovering they had a lot in common, before Nina called for Kyle. “Come on, little man, it’s time to go.”
Kyle immediately started bawling. “But Mommy! These are my friends!”
Nina smiled sweetly. “I know, Kyle, which is why they’re coming over tomorrow for a play-date.”
This stopped Kyle’s tears instantly. “Yay!” he yelled. Waving goodbye to his two friends, Kyle practically skipped with his Mommy to the car.

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Three​

Two days after Kyle turned ten, Thomas took him to the comic store that had just opened in Xavier City, where he could get any comic he wanted. Comic books (and all related properties) were a pleasure of Kyle’s that had only grown over the years, and so this was a perfect present. Save for the fact that it was his father taking him.
It wasn’t that Kyle hated his father; it’s just that he never knew him. Most of his time was at work, doing God knows what. He promised to tell Kyle “when he was older,” but that was five years ago. Kyle had let the matter drop, but he still resented his father for not trusting him.
As the two walked into the store, Kyle passed the register, where he passed a boy about a head shorter than him, with sandy brown hair that rose in a sort of flip. As Jason would later describe it, albeit sarcastically, the boys hair was perfect. The most surprising feature about the boy was his build. He had a pretty wide frame for someone close to Kyle’s age.
Not being able to help himself, Kyle asked the boy, what comic he bought.
Taking the comic out of the bag, the boy said, “Spider-Man #400.”
Kyle’s limited Marvel knowledge allowed him to say, “The original Death of Aunt May?”
The boy nodded excitedly. “The very same. I’ve been looking forever for this one.” He ushered Kyle closer and whispered, “Between you and me, this guy (he made a subtle thumb jerk towards the proprietor) doesn’t know how much this is worth. I got it for five bucks!”
Kyle laughed, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he felt a kinship with this stranger, one he felt with Leon and Jackson.
“What’s your name?” Kyle asked.
“Crichton. Jackson Crichton,” Kyle’s new friend introduced himself as.
“You live around here?”
Jackson nodded. “Yeah, in Riverside.”
Kyle cocked his head to the side. “No way! So do I! What school do you go to?”
“Riverside Elementary.”
Kyle grinned. “How is it we’ve never met?”
Jackson shrugged. “I guess we just travel in different circles.”
Kyle nodded. “Well, that has to change. Tomorrow’s Monday, so you need to sit with my friends and me at lunch. No excuses.”
Jackson began to object, then shrugged. “Why not?”
The two talked about their favorite interests in comics, and it became evident that while Jackson was a Marvel fan, Kyle was a D.C. boy. The two debated which was better until Thomas yelled for Kyle to, “Hurry up, Kyle. I haven’t got all day!”
“Don’t I know it,” Kyle muttered under his breath.
“Daddy issues?” Jackson asked quietly.
“You have no idea.”
“I suspect I might,” Jackson said off-handedly. Checking his watch, his eyes widened. “Shoot, I gotta go anyway.” Heading for the door, Jackson pointed at Kyle and said “Lunch tomorrow. I’ll be there.”
Nodding, Kyle smartly saluted his new friend. After he left, the youth went to pick up a Batman/Superman comic and then, smirking slightly, walked to the Marvel section and picked out “Spider-Man: Blue”, by Jeph Loeb.
***
In the car ride home, Thomas said to an engrossed Kyle, “Listen…I’m sorry I rushed you out of there. One day I’ll tell you why.”
“’Kay, Dad.”
“No, it isn’t, son. I realize I haven’t been there for you. It’s just…”
“Don’t worry about it, Dad.”
“But I will…”
Thomas let that last statement hang in the air as he pulled into the driveway of his house, though he knew his son wasn’t listening. He felt very guilty about that, his son not caring enough to listen, and hoped that one day Kyle would forgive him for that.
The father and son walked into the house, and Kyle called out, “Mom! Look what I got!”
The younger Wyatt ran into the living room, followed slowly by Thomas, who knew how much Kyle loved his mother.
Thomas heard a loud thud, and ran into the living room, where he saw Kyle’s new book on the ground.
“Kyle, you need to be-“
Thomas stopped midsentence, is gaze fixed upon his wife, who lay unconscious on the couch.
“Mommy?” he heard Kyle whisper tearfully.
***
Nina Wyatt died the following Tuesday after the best efforts of the doctors assigned to her, Thomas included. Kyle learned she’d had a rare form of leukemia ever since he was born. The reason Thomas was never home was because he was relentlessly trying to create a cure to save his wife, and anyone who had the disease.
The funeral took place on a cruelly sunny day. Kyle’s entire extended family was there, but Kyle chose to stay with his father. Knowing now why he did what he did, Kyle sympathized, and hoped he and Thomas could make things work out.
As Kyle watched his mothers casket lower into the ground, he silently vowed that as long as he had breath in his body that no one he loved would ever die again.

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Four​

Kyle Wyatt’s alarm went off, causing the thirteen year old to moan. It was his first day of High School, something that any teenager would dread. Cracking his neck while yawning, the youth put on the glasses he’d worn since he was eleven and went to wash up.
When he was done, he reached into his messy closet and pulled out the suit that Riverside High School mandated all boys wear. Why, Kyle had no idea. All he knew was that he hated it. Begrudgingly, he threw the suit on, put his backpack on his back, and walked downstairs. Kyle found his father passed out at the kitchen table, where about five empty beer bottles and dozens of medical journals surrounded him. Rolling his eyes, Kyle picked up the bottles and went outside to throw them out, all while reflecting on his father situation. Ever since Nina had passed away, Thomas had made working on a cure his entire life; he quit his job at the hospital, and the only way he and Kyle got by was funding from the government. Since Thomas was preoccupied with something that was, Kyle had to reluctantly admit, important, the younger Wyatt had to take care of the house.
Outside, Kyle threw the bottles in recycling bin, just in time to see the school bus drive past.
“****,” Kyle said. He ran inside and shook his father. “Dad…Dad…dammit Dad wake up!”
The older Wyatt didn’t budge. “Double ****,” he said again before tearing out of the house and running to the school.
***
Kyle made it in just before the doors closed, and as soon as he was in fell onto his knees, choking from pain and dehydration.
“Are you okay?” a sweet, concerned asked the fallen red head.
Wincing, Kyle looked up and saw a very pretty girl with an oval shaped face, dirty blonde hair tied in a ponytail, and deep brown eyes, like chocolate.
Getting up, he managed to get out, “I’m fine,” before running to the nearest garbage can and vomiting.
***
The girl helped Kyle get to the nurse’s office, despite his (weak) objections. He tried to get away, but her grip was surprisingly strong for one so small.
Fifteen minutes later, the nurse gave Kyle a clean bill of health, but urged Kyle to relax and drink lots of water. Seeing no alternative, Kyle said he would. Thanking the nurse, Kyle left the office and found the girl waiting outside the office.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Kyle said. “The nurse just told me to drink a lot of water.” The two started walking together, and after a moment of silence, he added, “I suppose I should thank you. So, um, thanks.”
She smiled. “Wasn’t any trouble, Kyle.”
“How’d you know my name?” Kyle asked suspiciously, thinking he had a stalker, though he wasn’t exactly adverse to the idea, if it was this girl.
The girl laughed. “I’m not stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking; I heard the nurse say your name.”
“Oh,” Kyle said, sounding mildly disappointed.
“I’m Briana Walker, by the way,” she finished.
“Nice to meet you. I’d introduce myself, but it seems you already know who I am.”
This elicited a laugh from Briana. Kyle thought it was a nice laugh.
“So, how’d you get to be so strong?” Kyle asked her.
“Jujitsu lessons since I was six,” she told him. “I’m a second degree black belt now.”
“So you’re saying you could kick my ass?” Kyle joked.
“Definitely,” she deadpanned.
Kyle’s eyes widened, causing her to laugh again. “Not that I would ever want to.”
I’m sure, Kyle thought. Changing the subject, he queried, “So what class do you have now anyway?”
Consulting her schedule, Briana said, “History with Tanner. You?”
For a reason not entirely clear to him, Kyle smiled. “The same.”
And so the two walked in late together. Their teacher, Mr. Tanner, a man with a shaved bald head and dark eyes, looked at them intensely. “And who might you be?”
“Briana Walker and Kyle Wyatt,” Kyle said tensely. “I’m Kyle, for the record.” This elicited a laugh from the class, and even a chuckle from Mr. Tanner. But the humor of the situation didn’t stop him from asking, “Why are you late?”
Before Briana could respond, Kyle said, “It’s my fault, sir. I got sick on the way in, and Briana wanted to make sure I was all right. Don’t blame her for it.”
Mr. Tanner smirked. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the first day, I’ll be lax on the rules. Just don’t let it happen again.” He poked a finger in Kyle’s chest for emphasis.
Kyle and Briana nodded, and when Mr. Tanner told them to pick seats they did so. Briana saw one of her girlfriends and went to sit with her, but not before saying bye to Kyle.
Kyle searched for a seat, and saw Jason making subtle motions for Kyle not to sit beside him. Smirking, Kyle did exactly what Jason didn’t want. As revenge, Jason, now a cynical, sarcastic teenager, started chanting, “Kyle’s got a girlfriend,” repeatedly.
After five minutes of this, Kyle said, “Jason?”
“Yes, my red-headed companion?”
“Shove it.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Book I
The First Year​

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter One​

My name is Kyle Wyatt, and right now my alarm is blazing in my ear. Grunting in exasperation, I slammed my palm into it, turning it off. Stretching, I stood up and cracked my neck, all while thinking I needed to find a new position to sleep in. Yawning, I went through my usual morning routine; showering, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed. The last part was the worst, because I’d gotten a growth spurt in October, so now my suit was too tight and the legs came up too short.
Cursing my tallness, I put my glasses on and stared at my face in the mirror. For my birthday, I had gotten a sudden outbreak of acne lining the whole underside of my face. Jason had affectionately dubbed it the ‘acne beard,’ the bastard. Anywho, ever since that day one month ago I’d been checking my face ever since, hoping that it would have faded. It didn’t.
Disappointed, I went downstairs, and on my way outside I passed my father at the computer, passed out. Apparently, last night he’d made a breakthrough, but that didn’t stop him from drinking himself into a stupor, it would seem. Sometimes I forgot what life was like when Mom was alive.
Self-moping aside, I went to Dad’s side and shook him wildly.
“Who there?” he said quickly, is now long, erratic hair blowing from his alcohol laced breath.
“It’s me Dad,” I nearly snarled. “I have to go to school now. Just letting you know.”
“’Kay,” he lazily mumbled. “Have fun.”
As I opened the door to wait outside, he called after me. “Hey Kyle? Can you pick me up some beer on your way back from school? That’d be great.”
I slammed the door. I don’t know why, but something inside me snapped . “You know what, Dad? I won’t pick up your damn beer? You wanna know why? Because, for starters, I’M FOURTEEN, AND CAN’T EVEN BUY ANY ****ING BEER!.”
“Also, it’s been five years since Mom died! I miss her, too, but I know that I couldn’t have done anything to stop her from moving on! I know you tried your best. Isn’t that enough?”
I got no answer. He’d fallen asleep again.
***
At school, I threw my backpack in my locker and slammed the door shut, still pretty pissed about my “talk” with Dad. However, I knew my friends would cheer me up, so I went to the wall right outside the cafeteria, which the five of us had dubbed “The Usual Spot.”
Approaching the Spot, I saw all of my closest friends there. It’s strange, I was the one who’d brought them all (except for Jason and Leon) together; Jackson had immediately hit it off with Leona and Jason, and as it turns out Leon and Briana knew each other from Nursery School. Go figure, eh?
I snuck up on Briana, all ninja-like, and squeezed her sides, causing her to jump about a foot in the air and squeal. Her squeal caused Jackson to guffaw.
When she had recovered from my “attack”, Briana turned around and stared at me accusingly. “What?” I said innocently.
“You squeezed me,” she said.
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
This went on for about three minutes, after which Jackson yelled, “ENOUGH!”, causing everyone in the hallway to stare at him, and him to blush.
“Nice,” Leon coughed, causing all of us to laugh.
After we convinced Jackson that he wasn’t a buffoon, the five of us talked about random teenager stuff until the bell rang. When it did, Leon and Jackson headed for science, and Jason, Briana, and I left for History.
“You know who I hate?” Jason inquired en route.
“Who?” Briana and I asked in monotone unison. He did this every morning. If he wasn’t a childhood friend of mine, I’d probably hate Jason Rider.
“Kyle James Wyatt,” Jason said proudly.
Rolling my eyes at Briana, I said to Jason, “Well at least I didn’t come here from England.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. To be frank, he bore a very similar appearance to Harry Potter, and hated to be compared to him.
“That’s cold,” he said.
***
At lunch, I sat at the table alone with Leon as Briana, Jackson, and Jason stood online to buy their food.
Leon, who had shaved his hair into a buzz cut, said randomly, “It’s kinda obvious you like Briana, dude.”
I put my bag of potato chips down. “But I don’t, so how is it obvious?”
Leon shrugged as he took a bite out of his sandwich. “Just is,” he said while chewing.
I waited for him to swallow, sensing he had more to say. He did.
“If you, hypothetically, did like her, I’d suggest making a move fast. Her cousin Aileen has been trying to set her up with some guy that goes to her school. Sam Brant, I think his name was.”
Before I could respond, the other three came back to the table, leaving me deep in thought.
***
After lunch, Jackson and I left to go to art. On the way, I told him what Leon had told me. He agreed.
“It is kinda obvious you like her, Kyle,” he said, mirroring Leon’s own words and slightly angering me.
“Well I don’t,” I said with a touch of finality, even though I’d started the whole conversation.
The two of us walked into Mrs. Samantha Seaford’s art room. How she became a “Mrs.” Was beyond my understanding. She was one of the most evil people I’d ever met in my fourteen years, hating everyone except herself. She was about Briana’s height, looked about 183 years old, was thin as a twig, and wore an obvious blonde wig. Now, if she was nice I wouldn’t mock her for these things, but since she was an evil ***** I really didn’t care.
A minute after the bell rang, Seaford tried calming the class down. When that didn’t work, she screamed, “SHUT THE HELL UP YOU LITTLE ****S! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR PARENTS RAISED SUCH INSENSITIVE **** BRAINS!”
This is how class started everyday. Jackson once wondered why the school board never fired her; surely at least one student had told their parents that their art teacher was a *****. My explanation: Maybe the school board’s hoping that one day she’ll get a class so bad it’ll kill her.
“And I can’t believe you’re still standing,” I whispered to Jackson, causing him to snicker. In an instant, she was on me like an overgrown bat. Correction: an overgrown, anorexic bat.
“What was that, you orange turd?” she croaked.
Not giving a damn what she had to say, I buried my head in my arms and groaned, though at what I hadn’t yet figured out.

 

[Professor Yes]

looks like harry potter you say?

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Two​

After a pretty uneventful school day, I went home. Usually, I would have hung out at Mac’s Burger’s with my friends, but they were all busy. Walking in, I was greeted by my father, to which I was shocked; I hadn’t seen him stand in months. He wore a huge grin on his face.“What is it?” I asked warily.
“Follow me,” was all he said, and so I went with him to his lab, which was actually clean for once, and was shown a vial filled with a liquid that glowed an eerie blue-white. “What is it?” I asked.
If possible, Dad’s grin grew even bigger. “A cure,” he said in a hushed whisper, as if he couldn’t believe it. “At least, I think so.”
I was honestly astounded. I had always thought he’d never do it. “How was it done?”
“I mixed some various antibiotics with an anabolic steroid, and then mixed it with the DNA of a spider, who had a key enzyme in it’s genetic code. With all of those mixed together, I think the disease that killed your mom…my wife…can feasibly be cured. I’ll need to run some more tests…but I think I’ve done it, son.”
Though I was still resentful of the four years gone between us, I felt I could at least hug my father in congratulations. As I went to, however, I tripped over my too-big feet and landed on the syringe before falling to my knees. When I got up, my father was red faced, and the syringe empty.
“KYLE YOU CLUMSY ****! THAT WAS THE ONLY SAMPLE I HAD, AND I’VE BEEN WORKING ON IT FOR MONTHS! YOU’RE A DISGRACE! YOU’RE MOTHER WOULD BE ASHAMED”
As he finished that, he instantly looked remorseful. “Kyle, I…”
But it was too late. Fighting back the tears, I bolted out of the house, not looking back.
***
I wandered around town for hours, thinking about my dilemma. Despite everything that had happened, I’d always held out hope for my father. But this was too much, so I resolved to run away. Turning around, I jogged back home.
As I was about three/fourths there, I saw an electrical worker of some kind accidently cut a wire directly in front of me. Sparking, I saw it about to fall on an elderly couple sitting on a bench. Displaying surprising agility at the time, I leaped and caught the wire, saving the couple.
As electricity coursed through my body, I felt no pain. I actually thought it felt good. Then I blacked out.

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Three​

I awoke in my bed; my father, Leon, Jason, and Jackson staring at me. “I know I’m pretty, but could you stop staring?” I murmured.
Everyone laughed uneasily. Sitting up, I asked, “What’s up?”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “You don’t remember?”
Thinking hard, I recalled the fight with my father, my plot to run away, and my getting electrocuted. Looking around frantically, I asked, “What’s going on? How am I still alive? I remember getting zapped, but that’s all.”
Jason piped in. “You were right in front of my house, so I saw everything. When I saw you hurt, I had my brother throw you in the car and bring you here…”
“Where I helped make sure you were all right,” Dad finished.
“And…am I…all right?” I asked uneasily.
“You were never all right,” Jason quipped. Leon elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to keel over.
Ignoring them, Dad asked, “How do you feel?”
Thinking for a moment, I said, “Well, great, actually.” Standing up, I went to the mirror to examine myself. I was no longer wearing my suit; no doubt it got fried. Instead I was wearing a paper gown, one you’d likely find in a hospital. “Please don’t take it off,” I heard Jason say.
“Don’t worry, Jason. I’m not gonna rip this off. And if I did, it would be an honor for you,” I said.
In the mirror, I saw Jason’s reaction. Instead of his usual arrogant smirk, he looked slightly unnerved.
“What is it?” I asked, a single eyebrow raised.
“How did you hear that?” Jason asked.
I laughed nervously. “You said it clear as day, man.” But Jason shook his head no.
“I was right next to him, and I didn’t hear it,” Leon said.
Something wasn’t right; this was obviously some sort of joke. “Come on guys,” I practically begged, “Stop this.”
They said nothing, but when I saw the oddly serious look on Jason’s face I knew he was telling the truth. I looked over at my Dad, who looked nervous.
“Rip off the gown,” he said without meeting my gaze.
Obeying him, I tore it off and looked in the mirror. What I saw shocked me.
“Holy crap, I’m ripped!” I exclaimed.
Gazing with awe at my new hardened physique, I noticed I wasn’t wearing my glasses, yet could see perfectly. I also noted, with some satisfaction, that my acne beard was gone. Oddly enough, though, my hands were trembling.
“What’s happened to me?”
]

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Four​

Dad cleared his throat, causing everyone in the room, myself included, turned to look at him; my friends in wonder. Me, well, I was scared.
“Your body has had a reaction to the serum I created,” he said.
I cocked my head to the side. “How is that possible?”
“When you were born, there was an anomaly found in your DNA,” Dad informed me.”It is my belief that the serum reacted with this anomaly, and the electricity from the broken wire catalyzed your body into reacting and changing.”
Before I could do so, Leon asked, “What kind of changes are these? Is Kyle gonna be all right?”
“Well, these changes are in no way detrimental to Kyle’s health. As you can see, his body has become toned, and his other senses have been sharpened. It is safe to say that Kyle is a perfect physical specimen now.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ve seen some of these effects, but I sense you’re not telling me everything.”
Dad nodded. “You’re right. Besides your new physical properties, you have gained new…abilities…as well. Your muscle density has increased, giving you great strength. My guess is, at the moment, you could lift a ton, and your leg muscles can propel you at about one hundred miles per hour. Also, this provides you with limited invincibility; your body can withstand anything short of a missile, and it seems to be immune to fire.”
“Ironic for a fire crotch,” Jackson said, and Jason looked at him proudly.
Ignoring him, Dad continued, “Furthermore, as you noticed before, your hearing has been sharpened exponentially. You could hear, my guess, all of Xavier city if you were to stand on top of the highest building.”
“You can fire concussive heat blasts from your eyes, using heat that you gather from inside your body and the surrounding area.”
“The spider DNA has given you unique characteristics, as well. It would seem you have inherited their adhesive abilities, as well as their ability to spin webbing.”
“Perhaps most interestingly enough, many of the human brains functions normally a secret to us have been unlocked in you. As a result, you have exceptionally quick reflexes, and a premonitory sixth sense that could warn you of danger.”
Dad stopped, and I took that as meaning he was done. The four of us, that being me and my friends, stood in shock. Jackson was the first to respond.
“Damn! Kyle, you realize what this means? You could become the world’s first superhero!”
“Please,” I scoffed. “The world doesn’t need a hero right now. Besides, I’m fifteen. I need to live my life. I plan on it, too, only now I have powers.”
“Which reminds me: you need to promise not to talk to anyone outside of the five of us about this.”
My friends did so, but not before Leon said, “Not even Briana?”
“Who’s Briana?” Dad asked.
Disregarding him, I said, “Not even her. She’d probably see me as a freak, and that’s the last thing I want.”
“Because you-” Jason began, but a look from me stopped him and caused him to yelp. Looking at the mirror, I saw my eyes glowing red. It would seem that they did that whenever I got angry, as my heat vision was triggered by anger, Dad later told me.
“She’s your friend, Kyle. So are we, and we don’t see you as freaks,” Leon said sagely.
“Listen,” I said, “this is how I look at it:”
To Leon: “You’re my best friend, and you’d stand by me through anything.”
To Jackson: “You’re the biggest comic nerd I know, and probably think this is the coolest thing ever.”
To Jason: “You always thought I was a freak.”
Jason shrugged. “It’s true.”

“So what’re you gonna do?” Jackson questioned.
“Rest,” Dad answered for me. “Kyle’s body must adjust to the changes.”
As my friends left me to sleep, I told Leon to stay behind for a minute. “Hey, um…did Briana come by to check up on me?” I needed to know, so sue me.
Leon nodded. “A week ago. She came by right before she left for vacation.”
“I’ve been out for a WEEK!?” a dumbfounded me yelled.
Leon nodded again. “Christmas is in two days.” Then he was gone, leaving me to ponder my new place in the world.

 

[Snipershot]

nice. basically sums us up

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Five​

Later that day, I sat on my bed cross-legged, meditating. Now, I wasn’t, and still am not, a spiritual person, but I had a good reason for doing what I did. Seriously.
Dad knocked, and without waiting for an answer walked in. Opening one eye, I asked, “Yes?”
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking bemused.
“Trying to focus my will power into flying.”
There was an awkward pause between the two of us. From Dad’s face it was obvious he thought I was either joking or insane.
“What? I can do pretty much everything else, why not add flying to that list?” I declared.
“Good point,” Dad said, sitting on my bed.
“So what do you want?” I asked, still meditating.
“I want to talk to my son.”
With that, I stopped meditating and opened my other eye. Sitting beside him, I said stiffly, “I’m listening.”
Taking a deep breath, Dad explained. “Kyle, I…I know that these past few years have been rough on you, and I haven’t made it any better. In fact, I’ve probably made it worse. I’m sorry for that, truly. Having faced thought of losing you made me put things in perspective, and it reminded me of the promise I made to you right before your mother died.”
I nodded, saying nothing. What could I say?
“So, I guess what I’m trying to ask is: will you give me one last chance to prove myself?” Dad concluded, holding out his hand.
I stared at the hand a long minute, and then embraced my father, tears silently streaming both of our faces.
***
The two of us talked for a long while and got to know each other. I told Dad everything about myself.
Patting me on the shoulder, he said, “I’m happy at how you turned out, Kyle, despite everything.”
Feeling my ears reddening, I muttered, “Thanks.”
After my ears went back to their usual ghost white color, I asked, “So what’re you going to do now, then?”
“Well, I already got my job back at the hospital. Seeing as I was one of their best doctors, I was welcomed back with open arms,” Dad stated proudly. “That way, I can help everyone I can, and not just a specific group.”
I nodded, and that was when I noticed Dad cut his hair back to its old length, to the way it was before Mom passed away. I told him this, and he nodded, wondering when I would notice it. And then he left wordlessly.
I sat wordlessly, wondering if I had said something or done something wrong. My worries were unwarranted. A minute after he left, Dad came back with a wrapped box.
“Late birthday present,” he called it, and added, as an afterthought, “For this year, anyway.”
He tossed it to me, and I instinctively used my adhesive abilities to catch it. It stuck to my palm, and it took me a little while for it to let go, causing Dad to laugh.
Glaring with my eyes glowing, I ripped open the paper and opened the box. Inside was a classic Superman t-shirt. As if mesmerized, I stared at the ‘S’ symbol for a long while.

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Six​

Two days after Christmas, I stood atop the tallest building in Xavier City, wearing faded blue jeans and my new Superman shirt. The day before, I spent maybe twelve hours overall into honing my powers, learning where they came from and all that. I believed I had mastered them, and I was right, for the most part. Perhaps my most interesting power, as Dad said, was my sixth sense. Not only did it warn me of danger to myself, but it provided me with hints and clues to problems and other related items.
Looking over the city, I put on a navy blue ski mask and a pair of gloves. Breathing in deeply, I leaped off of the building and went into a free fall. My sixth sense showed me a flag pole hanging horizontally off of a building directly below me, so I grabbed it and swung off of it. I landed on another rooftop and leaped off of that one, but this time I shot a webline (my sixth sense told me when and where to launch) and swung around the city, my newfound agility, speed, and psychic ability making it incredibly easy.
Eventually, I released a web at the top of its arc and landed on a rooftop and began jumping from building to building, doing all sorts of fancy acrobatic moves. I jumped to a wall and started jumping from wall to wall. It was a blast, I tell you. Launching one last web line, I yanked my way back to where I began, the tallest building in Xavier City, and remained there until the sun set.
***
At home that evening, I was in my room reading, when a sudden, ingenious idea struck me. Immediately, I called Jackson and told him every intricate detail of it. He seemed almost as excited at the prospect as I was.
Hanging up, I called for Dad, who ran in. “What is it?”
“You know that new suit you got me today?” I asked coyly.
“Yeah?”
I held up a ripped and torn piece of fabric. “Yeah, it doesn’t exactly fit me.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Seven​

One morning, I was lying in bed when I was rudely shaken by Dad. “What?” I growled groggily.
“It’s 7:15, you missed the bus,” Dad said, sounding only somewhat concerned. “If you get a move on I’ll drive you.”
“No need,” I said tiredly before using my super speed to accomplish what would take a normal human being an hour to do in ten minutes; I showered, brushed my teeth, and ate breakfast, only stopping to bid my father farewell.
Dashing to the school, I beat the bus by five minutes, much to my delight. Smiling and shaking my head, I went inside the school and put my backpack in my locker, noticing that no one made any outward sign that they noticed me. This was good, as it meant that my new physique was not visible beneath my suit.
I went to the Usual Spot, where everyone was already there. “Morning ladies,” I said, smirking.
Everyone turned to face me. Leon nodded, Jackson grinned ear to ear, and Jason called me *****e.
“Turd,” I retorted as Briana hugged me tightly, though it no longer caused the mild discomfort it used to. “Uh, hey Briana.”
Still hugging me, Briana asked, “You all right?” With her back faced to Jason, she didn’t see him doing kissy faces in the air. I glowed my eyes at him.
“I’m fine,” I said to Briana, hugging her back. “Thanks for asking. And thanks for visiting me. Sorry I was out on you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You look great for someone who got electrocuted, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I said yet again as Jason barely restrained himself from laughing.
***
Outside the classroom, I told Briana I just had to talk to Jason for a split-second. After giving me a look, she went in.
Glaring red eyed at Jason, I snarled, “Listen, you’d better learn to control your ass, otherwise I’ll tie you up with webbing and burn a lightning bolt onto your forehead. Savvy?”
On that note, I went inside the classroom and left him to think.
***
After lunch, instead of going to the art room I went to the second floor bathroom. In there I took off my uniform, revealing the outfit I wore while training. Smiling, I put the ski mask on and crawled out of the open window to the art room, hoping Jackson remembered his job.
He did, the window was open. Using my hearing, not that I needed too, I heard the *****, well, ***** about how the class was behaving. I speed-crawled into the classroom, barely more than a blur to anyone looking hard enough. I made my way to the ceiling and positioned myself directly beside Seaford. Restraining the laughter that threatened to rise in my throat, I attached a webline to her wig and yanked it off.
The whole class, save Jackson, gasped. I descended using the web yo-yo that Spider-Man made famous, causing the class to gasp again. Using a hardened, deeper version of my voice that had a dry edge to it, I said, “It wasn’t fooling anyone anyway, Grandma? Or should I say great- great- great- great- great-Grandma?”
Tears started streaming down Seaford’s face, and she ran out of the room, leaving her wig in my hand. As if it were something gross, which it was, come to think of it, I dropped it and looked around the room. Everyone was staring at me in awe and wonder, and also a little fear.
Needing to go out with a bang, I said, “Um…drugs are bad, mmkay?”, let go of my web, and jumped out of the window, laughing like a maniac.

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Eight​

After class, I met Jackson outside the art room. I was dressed back in my civvies, as I began calling my uniform.
“Kyle, man, you were awesome!” Jackson proclaimed. “The way you handled yourself, it seemed like you were totally in control! It was so cool!”
I smiled. “I know.”
***
In science, I spoke to Leon about what I had done. He had already heard the story, as tales of my exploits spread throughout the school like a flame. But I had wanted him to hear it from my point of view.
Though he smiled at it, he whispered, “That’s funny, dude…but not exactly “good”. Don’t let the power you now have control who you are.”
Raising my eyebrows, I asked, “And what does that mean?”
Going back to the lab we were supposed to be doing, he concluded, “Your powers…they might change you. And not for the better.”
***
In English, I spoke to Jason about what I had done, and what Leon had said about it. To my surprise, he agreed with him. “It might even make you a lesser version of me,” he added. “Which, while not exactly a bad thing, is not who you are.”
I winced at the thought of me becoming Jason, for which he punched me.
***
Finally, in math, I was with Briana. “I wonder who this guy…I’m assuming it’s a guy…is? I mean, he has all of these powers, and he just so happens to mess with your art class and my English class. What’d you think of him?”
Faking ignorance, I said, “Well, he’s nothing special. Sure, he’s cool looking and all, but…”
“Maybe you’re just jealous that he has comic book powers and you don’t?” Briana asked jokingly.
Dead serious, I said, “Maybe.”
***
After hanging out with the four at Mac’s, I ran home, a streak of black and white. When I got inside, I found my father sitting in the armchair he’d inherited from his father, looking displeased at the T.V. Looking at the screen, I saw why.
It was a new segment, focusing specifically on my adventure during art. I watched in ashamed amusement as Mrs. Seaford, still wigless, tearfully said, “I was calmly telling my class what to do, and as I was offering them cookies, that…monster…came in and took my wig, before terrorizing my students.”
Shutting it off, I said, “***** deserved it.”
“Even so, I thought you knew better, Kyle,” Dad reprimanded. “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. You need to be careful, son.”
Going up to my room, I said, “You sound like Leon.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Nine​

At lunch the following day, my friends and I were chatting when my sixth sense went off. In my mind’s eye, I saw a short, pale, dirty blonde haired teen approaching our table. A few seconds later my vision came to pass.
Jeff Wyners, a ****** who idolized the rapper Eminem, sat down in between me and Briana, and began to pathetically flirt with her.
“So baby, how’s about you and me go down to the-” he began, but she didn’t let him finish.
“No thanks, Jeff,” she said as politely as she could manage.
Not taking the hint, Jeff put his arm around her. Sighing in disgust, Briana used one of her jujitsu moves and threw him onto the ground, causing all of us to laugh.
Jeff rose, red in the face, and for a second I thought he was going to lunge at Briana, so I got ready to fight. But this was all for naught, as Jeff merely stalked away. Even so, my sixth sense went off and activated my hearing. I heard Jeff talking to himself, saying, “You’re mine. After school, Briana Walker, you’re mine.” In my minds eye, I saw him fiddling with a knife in his pocket.
Setting my jaw, I quickly tried thinking up a plan. Noticing my concentrated face, Briana asked, “You all right?”, just as a plan came to mind.
“Yeah,” I said. “Everything’s fine.”
***
Outside the school, Briana, Jackson, Jason, and Leon were waiting for me. Little did they know that I was across the street, spying on them from a rooftop, in my ‘costume’, as I’d come to think of it, sans mask. I was waiting for Wyners to show up, and he eventually did, brandishing his knife. I listened in on what he was saying to Briana: “Date me or die.”
I heard Jason retort, “Death would be a hell of a lot better than dating you.” I could also hear Briana’s worried, labored breathing as she said, “No.”
That was my cue. I put the mask on and swung onto the scene, sticking myself to the wall. I saw the satisfied smirks on the faces of Leon, Jackson, and Jason, the relieved look on Briana’s face, and the surprised look on Jeff’s face.
“You…you’re real!?” Jackson sputtered.
I said nothing, but merely yanked the knife away from him with a web and brought it to my hand. Examining it, I said, “This is a mighty big knife you’ve got here. You compensating for something small below the belt?”
Furious at my insulting his manhood, Jeff fruitlessly tried jumping in the air to get to me. I released myself from the wall and kicked Jeff towards it, saving him from making impact with a web at the last second.
Bringing him to the ground, I knocked Jeff out with a single, solid punch before tying him up in a web cocoon, leaving only his head and feet exposed.
Satisfied at a job well done, my sixth sense went off, and I saw in my mind guards running for me, saying that they need to take me, ‘the vigilante’, to the principal, Mr. Norman.
“Tell the cops what happened,” I ordered the four, before leaping into the air and swinging away.
***
I swung in through my window and landed beside my bed, where I’d placed my suit when I put on the “costume.”
When I was done putting the suit back on, I walked downstairs, where Dad was again waiting for me. On the television screen, footage of me swinging away, the Jeff cocoon, and my friends explaining the situation was playing.
When it was done, Dad shut off the T.V. Preparing myself for another reprimand, I was surprised when Dad said, “Good job, pal.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Ten​

I didn’t need to use my “costume” for the rest of the school year, but I still wore it under my suit anyway. Just in case.
Before me or my friends knew it, it was the last day of school; classes had officially ended and finals had been taken. This last day was only a formality, where students pretty much just spent the day talking or watching movies. This wasn’t the case for World History first period.
Mr. Tanner said, “Instead of doing nothing, I’m gonna teach you one last thing.”
The whole class, myself included, groaned.
“Calm down,” Mr. Tanner droned. “Today we will discuss my favorite topic: the Spartan Warrior’s of ancient Greece.”
As Mr. Tanner discussed how the Spartan’s were trained from children into the greatest warriors ever to live, I sat fascinated.
***
During last period math, I was talking to Briana, grateful that Jason wasn’t here. I noticed that she was a little distant from me, and before I could ask her why my sixth sense went off, but I didn’t know why until the fire alarm rang. Looking at the clock with five minutes left, I doubted this was a drill.
The teacher, Mrs. Grend, evacuated us onto the field, as was protocol. There, Briana and I met up with Leon, then Jason, and finally Jackson, after minutes of bustling through kindergartners from the conjoined Kindergarten Center.
As my friends discussed all the possibilities of what could have happened, I stared at the burning building sadly, though I wasn’t sure why. Jackson must have noticed this, as he came to me and said, “There’s nothing you can do.”
Nodding and accepting this, I heard a police officer saying that there’s a little girl unaccounted for, and that they’ve alerted her parents.
Alarmed, I looked at Jackson, who without asking knows what happened. “I’ll cover for you if Briana asks,” he swore.
Nodding my thanks, I ran to a place I could change-and alley across the street. Running down that alley, I ripped off my clothes to reveal the “costume” and leaped onto a wall, crawling to a rooftop. I leaped across the street to a rooftop that directly faced the school. Looking for a way to get inside, I found a window. Unfortunately, the whole area was surrounded by cops.
I shot a web and swung on it to the window, hearing astonished cries as I passed. Not letting it get to my head, I used my concussive heat vision blasts to destroy the window, and I landed inside the burning building.
I tried listening for the girl, but couldn’t hear her. Either my hearing wasn’t yet honed enough to hear her or she was being kept silent. Either way, I ran through the flames and searched each classroom for her, to no avail.
As I made my way to the second floor, I heard a cry for help coming from what I thought was the boiler room, followed by a familiar voice silencing that cry.
Eyes glowing, I darted to the boiler room, where I found Jeff Wyners holding the little girl at gunpoint with a snub nosed pistol. When he saw me, he grinned darkly.
“Good, you showed up,” he said.
“What are you doing here, Wyners?” I asked. “You were expelled, and sent to juvey.”
“I was let out,” he explained. “Good behavior and all that.”
“I doubt that,” I snorted.
“You’re right, that was just the official excuse they gave for letting me out. No, a person that shall remain unnamed set me free. He was very interested in you. He gave me the means to do all this (Jeff motioned to the burning building). All this, just to get my revenge on you.”
“Huh,” I said. “You’re insane, by the way. Just thought I should let you know.”
Angered at my accurate assessment, he shot me repeatedly. I dodged all the shots before appearing directly in front of Jeff. I yanked the gun away from him, rolled it into a ball, and threw it at his head, knocking him out.
As he fell, I went to the little girl. She was black, had glasses, and wore her dark hair in pigtails. I kneeled in front of her. “Hey,” I said gently. “It’s gonna be okay, but only if you’ll come with me. Will you come with me?”
She nodded, and I threw her on my back. As I went to leave, I contemplated leaving Jeff there, but realized that that decision wasn’t mine to make. I hefted him under my armpit and told the little girl to hold on before running out of the building.
As I ran, I noticed with alarm that the flames were growing and spreading rapidly. Willing my body to go faster, I reached the window I entered it just as the building exploded, sending me and my cartel of sorts flying wildly in the air.
Somehow, I took control of myself long enough to attach a webline to a tree, and land safely.
A bald cop with a straight nose and friendly eyes approached me, a man and a woman in tow. I noticed the woman looked like the girl I had saved, and realized it was her mother and father. I handed her to them, and they thanked me profusely.
“That was a damn good thing you did there,” the cop said. “I’m impressed.”
“Thanks,” I said, looking for my friends.
“I’m Sergeant Raphael Mendoza,” the cop introduced himself as, extending his hand, which I shook. Before I could introduce myself as…something…, the fat principal Mr. Norman bounced over.
“I demand you arrest this man at once, Officer!” Mr. Norman spat.
“For what?” Sergeant Mendoza asked, shocked.
“For crimes against the school!”
“You made that charge up, fat ass,” I chirped.
“That he did,” Mendoza said to me before turning to Mr. Norman. “You also fail to realize that this person just saved the life of a little girl, as well as brought her captor to justice.”
It was at that point I remembered Wyners was still under my armpit, so I carelessly dropped him on the concrete.
“He’s a hero,” Mendoza concluded, causing my principal to blather incomprehensibly.
“Well, thanks…Sarge,” I said, getting ready to leave. But before I did, I turned to Mr. Norman and flipped him off before running away.
***
When I was done changing back into my street clothes, I met up with my friends. Briana asked me, “Where the hell were you?”
Jackson whispered, “Bathroom,” so I said, “Taking a leak.”
Rolling her eyes, Briana walked away. Leon went to follow her, but not before saying to me, “You should have listened to me.”
Confused, I asked Jason and Jackson what he meant. “Well,” Jason began, “ever since you got your powers, you’ve become cocky, arrogant, and immature.”
“It’s true,” Jackson confirmed.
Looking back on the past six months, I realized my friends were right. I remembered a lot of the times Briana and me were together, and saw I was acting like Jason, but worse.
“There’s something else,” Jason continued. “Something concerning what just happened: When you returned, you looked exhilarated. Like you enjoyed playing the hero.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Eleven​

At home that night, I sat on my bed, staring at the ski mask as if it were a separate entity. I sat deep in thought for a while, and was only snapped out of my thoughts by my father sitting on my bed.
“Something’s bugging you.” It wasn’t a question. “Does it have to do with what happened at school this afternoon?” That was a question.
I looked at him, my face showing no expression. “You heard about that?”
Dad looked at me, exasperated. “Kyle, a school went on fire, and a person with superpowers saved a little girl. Do you really expect me not to know about it?”
“Touché’, father,” I said. “But yeah, the reason I’m moping is because of today. You see, according to my friends my powers have made me cocky, arrogant, proud, and pretty much an asshat. But that’s not the only problem; you see, the experience in the burning school, which was on fire, might I add, gave me a bit of an identity crisis, and showing me two sides to my personality: on one hand, I’m the cocky, arrogant ass that I just described, but on the other I’m a noble, heroic, kind hearted person. They don’t really mesh well together, do they Dad?”
Instead of responding with a yes or a no, Dad simply said, “Then make them fit together.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, having an idea of what he meant but not really being sure about it.
“You said part of you was heroic, son. Why do you feel that way?”
I grasped for words. “Well, I mean…it felt great saving that little girl. A real rush, know what I mean?”
Dad got up and walked to the door. “Well, that settles everything then.”
“But you didn’t answer my question!” I yelled.
Dad winked at me. “No, but you did.”
Shutting the door behind him, Dad left me to think on what he said, and I realized he had helped after all.
***
“So you’re going to become a superhero!?” Jackson asked excitedly a week later.
“That’s the plan,” I said confidently.
“Well, I approve. I’m with you all the way,” Leon said.
“As am I,” Jackson agreed, though he really didn’t have to.
Even Jason supported me. “It’ll give you a hobby, at least. So what’re you going to do about a costume?”
“What’s wrong with the one I have already?” I asked indignantly.
Jackson answered instead. “Kyle, my friend…your t-shirt, jeans, and ski mask combo may have worked for the whole ‘school vigilante’ thing you were doing, but if you’re going pro you need a more…refined…costume.”
“You make a good point,” I said begrudgingly. “Fine then. But it’s still my choice of attire, being that it’s my body. Firstly, no tights. They make my ass look huge. The costume needs to be practical. Secondly, it needs to have the Superman ‘S’ symbol.”
“Um…why?” Jason asked.
“It’s a symbol of hope. By wearing it, I can show the people that I’m hear to help them, and not destroy them,” I explained.
Everyone sat in silence for a moment until Jason proclaimed, “That’s the most ******ed idea ever.”
Slugging him in the arm, Leon asked, “What are you going to do to change from your street clothes into the costume? If you’re not wearing tights, the outfit might be hard to conceal, it being bulky and all.”
“Hadn’t thought of that,” I muttered. “I could carry it in a bag and change into it when needed.”
Jason shook his head no. “Too cumbersome, and too slow to change into, even with super speed.”
“Well then, Mr. Crichton,” I sneered jokingly. “Do you have any suggestions.
Jackson shoulders slumped. That was a no.
“Actually…,” Leon said in awe, as if he was surprised he knew this.
“What?” all three of us said together.
“I read that Dean Murdoch’s company, MilleniCorp., had developed a new type of nanobot technology that could morph into any type of clothing the wearer wants. It’s also tear resistant, bulletproof and fireproof, not that you’d need the protection. This could be exactly what you need.”
“So Leon,” I began, “you suggest I use my fantastic abilities to sneak into the building of one of the countries richest men, find this suit and steal it, all while avoiding detection by security?”
“Well, yes,” Leon said meekly.
I grinned. “I like the way you think.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Twelve​

The next night, after planning out all the details, I stood on top of the MilleniCorp. roof, dressed in the school costume. It was the only way I knew how to disguise myself right then, what can I say?
Using heat vision, I carefully cut open a vent and yanked it off, laying it gently on the ground before going down the shaft and crawling across the ceiling. I stayed in the shadows, as a company such as MilleniCorp. would surely have advanced security. As I made my way around the first floor, I webbed up any and all cameras I could find, so there would be little chance of my involvement being recorded.
When I’d gotten to a lab station, I made sure the coast was clear, and then dropped from the ceiling in front of a computer terminal. Attempting to crack into the system, I hoped I didn’t need a password, though this was futile; it did.
Cursing loudly, I attracted the attention of a guard who would have missed me if I’d kept my mouth shut. He ran off to pull an alarm, and I webbed him up just as the alarm was sounded.
Immediately, a skeletal robot, much like the T-800’s from the Terminator films, appeared from a hidden door and immediately opened fire at me from a wrist mounted repeating turret.
My sixth sense allowed me to dodge the shots, and in retaliation I fired a web ball at the gun. The robot tried firing at me again, but since the barrel was blocked by my web fluid, it misfired and blew up, taking the robots right arm with it.
The robot looked around in what I took as confusion, though it was hard to tell. Taking advantage of this moment, I leaped behind it, and with a single punch knocked of its head.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the guard I’d webbed up struggling against his bondage. Walking over to him, I coldly asked, “Where are the plans for the prototype nanobot suit thing?”
It was direct, I know, but I had no time for niceties. I wanted to get this done with.
The guard didn’t answer, as he was trembling with fear. To get the answer out of him, I allowed my eyes to glow. In retrospect, this might have further scared the guard, but I was a teenager. Thankfully, it did work, and the guard stammered, “Th-the plans…sec…sec…second floor…,third room on the left…, ” before passing out.
Shaking my head, I used heat vision at a moderate level to dissolve the webbing that tied him up. He didn’t deserve to be treated the way he did, he was just doing this job. “Um…sorry,” I said before running to the second floor.
Finding the third room on the left locked, I ripped the door off it’s hinges. Again, an impulsive move that could have set off alarms, but the Gods were on my side that night, and I got in without incident. Inside, I found the suit in a glass chamber on one of those mannequins they have at clothing stores. At the moment, it was just a plan gray jumpsuit, it’s base form.
Approaching it almost reverently, I melted the chamber and took the suit off of the dummy it was placed on. As I went to leave, satisfied, I realized I had no idea how to make the suit work. I’d need the plans. Knowing that they’d likely be in the same room as the actual suit, I searched, and sure enough found them in a hidden compartment in the chamber where the suit had been stored.
Placing both the suit and the plans in a makeshift web backpack that I threw on my back, I reveled in a job well done, just as a bullet grazed my skin and splattered some of my blood to the ground.
Turning, I saw another one of the security droids, gun-arm smoking. Angered at my being hurt, I blasted the bot with full strength heat vision, incinerating it.
Grunting in pain, I placed a web bandage on my wound and sprinted out of that room to the security room. There, I removed all the security tapes and fried them, as a safety precaution.
I ran back under the ventilation shaft from whence I came, crawled to the rooftop, and swung back home, wondering how the hell I was wounded
***
“You’re reckless,” Dad scolded me. See, I didn’t exactly tell him I was going to steal a high-tech suit from a wealthy company.
“I’m working on it,” I grumbled as he checked my wound none too gently.
“This could ruin your plan, you know,” Dad went on. “Dean Murdoch could very well put a police manhunt on you.”
“Unlikely,” I said. “I destroyed all evidence I was there.”
“You’re sure?” Dad asked.
“Positive,” I droned. “Now, why the hell, sorry, heck, did my sixth sense and invulnerability not work; the sense should have warned me of the danger, and the invulnerability should have made that bullet bounce off of me.”
“What were you thinking at the time right before you got shot?” Dad asked.
Not seeing what that had to do with anything, I played along. “Well, since I’d gotten what I went for, I felt pretty damn good. Victorious. And proud. Very proud.”
Dad clapped his hands together. “Well, that explains things. As some of your other powers are connected to certain emotions of yours, your invulnerability and sixth sense are connected to your ego. It appears that if you get too confident or cocky, those two shut off. You can’t let your ego get the best of you, lest you get hurt again.”
Examining the fabric and plans, I said, “I’m not Jason. Now…how do we make this puppy work?”
***
The next night, as Dad worked on the suit, I paced around my bedroom, trying to work up the nerve to call Briana and apologize. After a long internal argument with myself, I finally got the nerve to call her, only to be greeted by her voicemail.
“Hi, you’ve reached Briana. The only reason you’re getting this voicemail is because of I’m away all summer touring the U.S. of A! WOO! So yeah, leave a message an I’ll call you back. If I like you, anyway.”
I didn’t. Instead I sat on my bed, cursing myself for my lack of action until that moment, and that’s when a sudden realization hit me like a brick.
“Oh my god,” I whispered. “I’m in love with Briana!”

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Thirteen​

After that…incident…the summer was pretty much uneventful, save for reports of a black garbed figure running around the city and town saving people, but no one was able to get a clear shot of him or her, as he/she disappeared without accepting any form of thanks. What are the odds of that?
Eventually, it was the first day of my sophomore year of High School, and since they were still rebuilding the one by here, all of us were to be taken to the auxiliary school in Xavier City, where we still had to put on those damn uniforms, which I put on, along with my watch, and went downstairs. Dad had already gone to work, so that left me with three options on how to get to school; I could take the bus, run there using super speed, or web swing.
***
I chose to take the bus.
When I got inside the school I went into the cafeteria, as ordered by the letter sent home during the summer, to get my locker combination and location. I did so, and as I had so many times before at the old school, went to my locker and put my stuff away.
When I was done, I listened for my friends, and heard their voices coming southeast of my current location. Following those voices, I found the four friends of mine outside the cafeteria. Some things never change.
Upon seeing me, Jackson greeted me. “Kyle!”
When she heard my name, Briana turned around, and even with my powers she made me weak at the knees. She’d changed over the summer, her having grown longer and her height having increased slightly.
Briana’s face was a myriad of expressions upon seeing me. At first she looked overjoyed, then confused, then angry, and then finally indifferent. “Hello, Kyle,” she said, her voice stone cold.
“I’m guessing you’re still upset at me,” I said, causing Leon to hit his face with his palm.
She didn’t respond, but stared off emptily into space, or so it looked.
Breathing deeply, I said, “Listen, Briana. I know that last year I was an ass. I know that, I realize it, and I regret it every single day. We were such great friends last year, and I don’t want our friendship to be ruined because of my stupid mistakes. You don’t have to forgive me, you just need to understand that with all of my being, I am truly, deeply, sorry.”
Instead of replying, Briana left the guys and me alone on our wall. I turned to them. “Did I say it wrong?” I asked plaintively.
Leon shook his head. “You did fine. She just needs time to think about what you said. Give her that, and I’m sure the two of you will be fine.”
***
And so I gave Briana time. It was only the next day, a Friday, that she got back to me. I was hanging out with Leon, Jason, and Jackson outside the school at the end of the day, when she approached me.
“Um…Kyle?” she asked quietly. “Can we talk for a sec?”
I turned and faced her. “Sure.”
We walked a meter away from the other three, and they were trying to do their best to discreetly listen in on us. They were failing, but neither of us paid them any mind.
Before I could ask her what was on her mind, she said, “I…uh, had some time to think about what you said, and I do accept your apology. And I’m sorry I treated you the way I did. Really.”
I smiled and shook my head. “Don’t apologize, Bree. I deserved it.”
“Why’d you do it, anyway?” she asked. “I mean…one day you’re this sweet guy and then the next, you’re…well, not.”
“I know,” I said uneasily. I had to get off the subject, otherwise she might get close to uncovering something. “I’ll tell you some other time, okay?”
She nodded, accepting, and then asked, “Say, you wanna go to Mac’s? I’m starved.”
As I was about to eagerly respond and start to set things right, police cars raced by, sirens blazing. Inwardly swearing, I said hurriedly to Briana, “Shoot, I’m sorry, but I have to return some DVD’s and then write an essay for Mr. Hilton.”
Looking disappointed, Briana said, “Well, all right then. I’ll call you over the weekend.”
I hugged her goodbye, and as she left I watched her go sadly.
However, as soon as she was out of view I threw off my backpack and shoved it in Jason’s arms. “Hold this,” I ordered, before tearing down the street.
Finding an alleyway, I ran down it and pressed a button on my watch before ripping open my shirt, revealing a raised black-on-silver Superman ‘S’ that sat on a skintight shirt.
My suit coat changed into a black denim jacket with an aggressive silver spider on the back and my suit pants morphed into black jeans. I took off my shoes, revealing black soft soled boots with silver tips. I took black gloves out of my pocket and put them on. To complete the look, I pulled out a full face mask with a mirrored visor covering my eyes. I was transformed.
Leaping into the air, I launched a webline and swung above the city streets, following the sirens and listening to the e-band. Apparently, about thirty or so armed men and women had had invaded Xavier City Bank via helicopter and are threatening to kill everyone in the bank, worker and customer alike.
I hastened my swinging, but when I was a half mile away I saw a middle-aged woman with groceries being tailed by some teenage gang that gave other teenagers a bad name.
Dropping off of the web, I landed in between the predators and their prey, and before they could respond to my sudden appearance I’d defeated them all and tied them to a nearby flagpole in their underpants.
The woman ran up to me, gratitude etched into every line of her face, but before she could vocalize her thoughts I was already gone, swinging away to help those in the bank.

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Fourteen​

I landed on the roof of the bank, right beside the helicopter that the burglars had used to invade the place. I ripped the cover off of a ventilation and shaft and went down it.
Slowly crawling across the ceiling, I surveyed the situation. It wasn’t good. Everyone in there, save for the aggressors and the bank tellers, was tied up, and the tellers were being forced to shove money in nondescript beige bags. The attackers themselves were dressed in military fatigues with Kevlar vests on there torsos. I counted twenty-seven of them, and heard one of them declare loudly, “This should be more than enough money for the boss,” to the agreement of another.
I quickly formulated a plan: I would let the robbers “escape”, and when they were complacent I would go after them. I didn’t want to fight them in the bank, so as to avoid any civilian injuries or deaths.
At that precise moment, however, a young black girl, no more than seven, yelled at the group as a whole. “Let us go, poo-poo heads!” I forgot how horrible kids were at insults when they were young, but that’s neither here nor there. What mattered was that in response, four of the thugs approached the little girl and readied the machine guns that only a minute ago had been hanging on their backs.
I had to act then and there. I fired four separate weblines and yanked the attackers away form the little girl before flipping off of the ceiling, landing in plain view of the group. They all looked astonished, and I heard one of them mutter, “He’s real!” Their shock didn’t last, though, as they all attacked me.
They were definitely trained, I could tell that much. They were attacking me systemically, going for the points that normally would have beaten a normal human.
But I wasn’t, and am not, normal.
Though I had no formal combat training, I still had my abilities, and that was all I needed. One came up from behind me, so I caught him and threw him into others, knocking them down. Then I webbed him and swung him around wildly, hitting the ones I had missed beforehand. For the ones that got up, let’s just say I busted some skulls.
As I tied them up, I counted eight missing. At that, I heard the helicopter start up and watched it fly by through one of the windows.[/font]
“Son of a…,” I said, before blasting through a window with heat vision and swinging out of it after the chopper.
Catching up to the vehicle, one of those operating it noticed me and pulled a rocket launcher from nowhere and shot one of those explosive projectiles at me. Jumping off of the web, I clung onto a building, attached a web to the rocket, threw it into the sky, and blasted it with heat vision, causing it to explode harmlessly above the streets.
Listening in on the group in the helicopter, I heard one of them, scared, ask what the hell I was. Laughing maniacally at this, I hopped onto a roof and ran from rooftop to rooftop, chasing after the helicopter.
After minutes of this, I got irritated at the lack of progress and blasted the propellers off of the top of the copter, which immediately began a descent towards the ground. I ran off of the building, and used two weblines to hasten my landing. Landing right before the falling helicopter, I dashed right under it and caught it, setting it gently down on the ground, though it did block traffic.
I went for the cockpit, and casually opened the door. Inside was a woman piloting, and two men staring at me fearfully, while another was passed out. Those were the only people inside.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” I said. “Now, I notice that four of your other companions aren’t here. It would be most helpful if you could tell me where they are.”
In response, the pilot spat at me, which I dodged. Rolling my eyes under the mask, I lifted her up by the wrists and snarled, “This isn’t an option, lady. Tell me where they are” (I began to crush her wrists) “Or we will have a serious problem. Get it?”
Crying in agony, the lady yelled, “Fine! Fine! The helicopter was a diversion to lure you away from the real money. The other four escaped in a getaway car parked in the back!”
Letting her wrists go, I said, “Grazie,” closed the door, and melted it shut to prevent them from escaping before swinging in search of the car
***
It didn’t take long, as it was being tailed by police cars. I let go of the line and landed on the roof of the car, ripping half of it off and throwing it on the ground. Startled, the gang opened fire on me, but they only had semi-automatic pistols. Not reacting fast enough, the bullets hit me, each one feeling like a strong, solid punch to the gut.
Winded, I nonetheless managed to keep adhering to what remained of the roof with my feet, using my hands to knock to of their heads together, making them unconscious.
The other two in the back screamed, and at first I thought it was because of what I had done. Then my sixth sense, renamed ‘Battle Sense’, went off, and I looked up and saw the car was on a collision course with a bus.
Jumping off the roof, I landed in between the two and held them back, though it took some effort. Only marginally tired from the effort, I jumped back into the car and, with a punch to each of the thieves respective faces, knocked them cold.
I gathered all four in the car together and attached them to a wall. Making sure I hadn’t let anyone escape, I swung back to the bank.
***
I swung in through the hole I’d made and landed in the epicenter of the bank, where all of the citizens were being helped, and the thieves being led away by police officers. I recognized one of them, though I hadn’t seen him in a few months. Thinking it rude to not greet him, I approached and said, “Hey, Sarge.”
Sergeant Raphael Mendoza turned to face me, and upon seeing my ‘S’ symbol asked, “Is it you? The kid from high school back in June?”
“It is,” I said, using the harsher, rougher voice I’d used back in my days as School Vigilante.
“I knew I’d see you again,” Sarge said, wonder etched into his face, “but not like this. I figured you’d do what any other kid would and use your powers selfishly. Then again, I should have known better after the school incident.”
“It’s my calling, so to speak,” I said.
Sarge nodded. “Well, either way, thanks. I doubt we would have gotten these guys without you.”
Preparing to leave, I said, “Don’t mention it.”
“Wait!” he called after me. I stopped and turned my head slightly towards him, though my back still faced him. “Yes?”
“What do I…we…call you?”
I considered for a moment, and before I left I said a single word:
“Spartan.”​

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Fifteen
Later, I sat at home with my friends (save Briana) and father, watching the news. The segment we were watching was devoted to my super heroic exploits. Intertwined with clips of me beating up the robbers were interviews with some of the hostages, all who praised my alter-ego.
As the praise was constantly being heaped on me, Dad shut off the T.V. I turned to him. “Why the hell did you do that?” I yelled.
He shrugged. “The admiration was getting a little on the repetitive side, Kyle.”
I slumped back in my seat. “Not to me,” I said sadly.
“How’d you know how to do what you did?” Jackson asked for the fifteenth time. He was the most excited of all of us about this, even more than I was.
“For the last time, I acted on pure instinct. I guess my Battle Sense told me what to do subtly.”
“Yeah, well whatever the reason, remind me not to get on your bad side,’ Jason said stiffly, causing everyone to laugh.
Leon recovered first, and brought up a valid point. “You realize, Kyle, that you’re technically a vigilante, and despite Sarge’s endorsement, the Police Chief might set a task force on Spartan.”
“I’ll worry about that when and if the time comes,” I said, standing up and then yawning. “And on that note, I need some rest. Fare thee well.” And with that, I cracked my stiff neck and went up to my bedroom.
***
At school the next Monday, students and teachers alike were discussing the first ‘true’ appearance of the new hero. At lunch, the five of us discussed, well…me. I had to fake ignorance, and to further my act offered several elaborate theories on how he got his abilities.
“Maybe he got exposed to a radioactive meteorite, or was sent here from another planet!” I said enthusiastically. No one really found that funny, but then, I wasn’t trying to be funny.
“You know, it seems like he has the same powers as that guy from Riverside last year who saved that little girl. They even wear the Superman symbol,” Briana pointed out.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Leon and Jason glance at each other as I said, a little edgy, “Huh. I’d completely forgotten about him.”
***
In study hall with Jason, I said to him, “She’s sharp, Briana is. I’ll need to be careful around her.”
Eyes shut, Jason asked, “Why don’t you just tell her who you are? That way you don’t have to do any of that double-life thing when you two start going out.” Opening his eyes, he concluded, “And believe me, you will go out, it’s just a matter of when.”
Pushing aside his last comment, I answered his question. “You know what, I’m not really sure why I won’t tell her, I just have a feeling that if I did, something bad would happen.”
“Battle sense?” Jason asked, sounding, for him, slightly worried.
“No,” I said. “Just a feeling…”
Having nothing to say after that, the two of us sat in silence. Jason furiously worked to complete English homework that he’d forgotten about, and I used my hearing to listen to the portable radio that the kid behind me was listening to.
On it, I heard a radio D.J. say that, “Sergeant Raphael Mendoza wants to meet with the city’s newest hero on the Xavier City Police Department Rooftop tonight at six. Spartan, if you don’t want your ass to be wanted by the po-po, you better get there!”
***
That night, I swung onto the roof of the XCPD, where Sarge was waiting for me. “You rang?” I stated.
Sarge turned, not at all startled and smiled. “Good, you came. I called you here because you should know that the Chief has appointed me your official liaison to the Department.”
I was surprised, but the mask hid it. I never thought I’d be working officially with the police, just helping them.
“The Chief figured it’d be best to have you as an ally of ours, rather than an enemy.”
“Smart move. If I was your enemy, I’d take you all down,” I joked.
Sarge laughed as well, though it came off as a little forced. “Great,” he said, taking out a notepad and pen. “Now, I’m gonna need your phone number…”
“But we just met!...kind of.”
“We’ll need a means of contacting you.”
“Then build me a Spartan Signal.”
Sarge glared at me. “A little serious help here would be good, you know.”
“I’m serious,” I said. “Listen, I have superhuman hearing. If you can get one of your tech-heads to build some sort of hyper message transmitter that sent messages on the frequency of a dog whistle, it would help.”
Sarge tapped the pen against his chin thoughtfully. “You know, that could work. You’re pretty smart, kid.”
“You sound surprised,” I said, faking offense.
“I just didn’t expect you to think like that,” he explained.
Walking to the edge of the roof, I said, “I’m a witty jackass; it’s my job to think on my feet.”
“You’re an odd hero,” Sarge laughed.
I turned to face him. “Don’t call me that; I’m no hero, just a guy who wants to do what he can to help out.”

 

[Swordmaster]

Chapter Sixteen
And help out I did. Throughout the next four months I stopped rapists, muggers, kidnappers, thieves, and other degenerates. The people loved me, including Briana.
At lunch one day, she was rambling on and on about how she’d witnessed Spartan singlehandedly diffuse a hostage situation using only his super speed. “It was so cool,” she said admirably before her face flushed with admiration. As she did this, I yawned and lay my head on the table. Though I was able to last days without sleep, I’d only gotten a combined six hours of sleep the past four nights. Needless to say, I was tired as hell. Crime was increasing, despite my best efforts
As I rested my eyes, Jackson joked, “You like Spartan, you like Spartan,” to Briana. Though I was almost asleep, I kept one ear open for the response that never came from her, but from Leon.
“You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, Briana,” he said. “You should find someone in our grade. Don’t you agree, Kyle?”
I thought I felt Briana staring at me, and as I slowly lifted my head she turned away.
***
At home, I woke up from a much-needed dreamless nap, refreshed and restored. Having no homework to do, and having read all my books multiple times, I decided to do some leisurely web-swinging.
Transforming quickly, I ran to the city and swung around for a little while, deep in my own thoughts, until an alarm broke that tranquility. Dropping to the ground and running to the source, I found the alarm to be coming from a deli. Going inside hurriedly, I found three people I recognized as seniors from the high school, one girl with a knife, and the other two males with pistols.
The girl with the knife hovered over a knocked out body that I realized in horror was Briana. Without thinking, I blasted the knife-wielder with heat vision, which threw him against a refrigerator. She slumped to the ground, down for the count, smoke rising off of her.
I jumped onto the ceiling and attached myself onto it, and then dived off onto one of the remaining robbers and punched him out.
At that moment, my Battle Sense sounded in my head, and I saw in my minds eye the last of the three sneaking up on me. Without looking, I kicked him in the stomach, flipped behind him, grabbed his neck, and slammed his face into the counter until he was out cold, his face covered in his own blood.
I stood there, anger radiating off of my costumed form. I heard a rapid heartbeat coming from behind the cash register and looked over it, finding a scared woman wearing an apron, showing me she worked there.
Breathing deeply and letting my anger wash away, I gently asked, “What happened?” The worker explained, between sobs, that Briana came in and was buying a Coke when the three came in, and demanded all the cash in the register. Briana tried to help and fight them off as she sounded the alarm, but the girl with the knife attacked her from behind, and that was what happened until Spartan arrived.
I nodded as the Cops arrived. Better late than never. Going to Briana, I lifted her up and walked outside, where a crowd had formed. I knew that if anyone from the school saw this, they’d give her hell the next day. But that didn’t matter. All that did was making sure she was safe.
The newly arrived Sarge got out of his car and jogged up to me. “What happened?” he asked, panting. I relayed the events to the letter, and advised Sarge to get the woman inside the deli treated for shock before walking to find. an area to begin swinging.
“Hey!” Sarge called after me. “Where are you taking the girl?”
“Her home,” I told him. “Don’t try and stop me.”
Tenderly putting her around my shoulders and webbing her arms to my chest, I shot a web to a skyscraper, but before I could swing away, Sarge asked, “How the hell do you know where she lives, anyway?”
“I know.”
***
I swung to Briana’s house on the edge of the city and landed on the deck outside of her room. Making sure her parents weren’t home, I went to the door that separated her room from the deck and prayed it was unlocked. It was, thank God.
Keeping one ear open for her parents, I used moderate level heat vision to dissolve the webs keeping her bound to my chest and placed her on the bed. As I stared at her unconscious form, I noticed a scratch bleeding on her forehead.
I went to her bathroom and got a wash cloth dipped in hot water, and dabbed her wound with it. As I did, she moaned and murmured, “Kyle…”
Staring at her, I quietly removed my mask, becoming Kyle Wyatt again. Sitting beside her and lightly rubbing her cheek, I whispered, “It’s okay,” and she went on to sleep silently
Getting up, I put my mask back on and left her to her dreams, whatever they were.