We Are Superheroes! (Sorry About That!)

Friday 26th May 2023 (around 21.30hrs)

Nothing but black and grey, nothing but flickering fluorescent lights, nothing but solid concrete walls...a prison, or perhaps a tomb.

Nothing to see or hear except the dripping of a pipe and the hum of electricity, the driving force of his being that was tantilisingly out of reach.

He was once angelic, golden-haired, blue-eyed, chisel-jawed, and a proud, fierce living embodiment of a god. He was once a noble warrior of their planet, outshining the sun. But now he was strapped to a board against a thick concrete wall, the binds that were used to keep his hands and ankles in place were glowing a sinister red and prevented the angelic being from using their powers to escape.

He had tried to help his friends escape, having sensed the trail of magic that they had cast which led him here, but his failure lead him to being bound to this earth, cut off from the flow of power.

He was Kalahoc, a warrior of the Sefanari race of mages and wizards. They could take many forms but would often favour an angel-like visage.

The warrior despaired, having narrowly escaped a harbinger of death just to cruelly wind up in this place, his life in the hands of malevolent humans.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a steel door with what seemed like reinforced glass gently open, accompanied by the buzzing sound of a successful card key swipe. A portly-shaped sergeant walked in accompanied by a much shorter, under-fed subordinate, dressed in the usual military fatigues, and approached the bound Kalahoc, with the normal disdainful look he reserved for the Sefanari.

“Still here I see?” asked the soldier mockingly. “It’s a shame for you, I bet you want to have a little reunion with your friends, am I right?” Oh wait, you can’t.” He followed this with a snide, cocky laugh which stabbed at Kalahoc’s heart.

“I should probably let you know that your friends are all dead too. Shame really, they’re no good to us now. The useless assholes couldn’t even die at the right time.”

The revelation was a physical blow to Kalahoc. His head sunk into his chest, and the feeling of a cannonball in his stomach sinking ever further.

“Maybe you’ll be one to snap the losing streak, hey?” the sergeant continued with that same venomous tone. “Oi, are you listening to me?”

Words had failed Kalahoc, all he had left to do was to spit in the man’s face. The sergeant’s smirk was then replaced by a sinister, contorted look of pure hate.

“You bastard,” he snarled. And then, the sergeant’s wafer-thin patience snapped, which was a fatal mistake.

Before his subordinate could tell him to stop, the sergeant reached for his taser and plunged it into the Sefanari’s side. Kalahoc could feel the current flow through him, coursing throughout his body. Before, it was as if he was in a waking coma, but now, he felt alive. Little sparks fried the hand-binds, releasing him from the wall.

The sergeant’s fragile ego was to be his doom. Kalahoc snapped the sergeant’s neck with no effort at all and used his telekinetic powers to throw the other soldier hard against the door. Kalahoc used the power within himself to launch a blast of energy at the wall, blowing a hole through the concrete and causing a rumble to echo throughout the base.

The room was glowing red with the sirens of the alarms sounding and echoing from the base. He went through the newly-punched hole in the wall, which led away from the door. Kalahoc figured that more soldiers would be coming from that direction.

He moved throughout the base, operating on instinct alone within this unfamiliar maze. He could hear more voices around the corner in front of him. He used some more of his energy to create a shield with his left hand and channelled a blast into his right, ready for whatever may happen.

There were four soldiers waiting for him. They immediately opened fire, the bullets having zero effect on the shield. Confused and frightened, they continued to attack. Kalahoc fired two blasts, taking out both soldiers at the vanguard. A third one charged, screaming furiously, wielding a baton with menace aforethought. Kalahoc easily dodged the blow and slammed the soldier’s head hard off of the wall to his left, causing blood to splatter from the man’s nose as it shattered. Kalahoc let him slump to the floor.

The last soldier quickly fired a shot from his pistol which hit the Sefanari in his side. He could feel the warm trickle of blood from near his abdomen and the pain consuming his energy and thoughts. Nevertheless, powered by adrenaline and rage, he rushed the soldier, headbutting him straight in the nose, throwing him to the floor and stamping on his head with all his might, feeling the soldier’s skull crumble like a cookie under his foot. He let out a growl of anger and marched onward, despite the stabbing sensation he could feel. Although he could heal faster than a human, the time in captivity and the experiments carried out on him had really messed up his abilities.

He wanted to teleport out, but, unlike some of his kin, he was unfamiliar with this world and wasn’t sure where to head- his teleportation only allowing him to go to places he had already been, it was a design flaw. He also felt lethargic after spending so long deprived and drained of his powers.

As he made his way through the long corridors of the base, he surprisingly met no resistance but was still on high alert. He encountered a stairwell. Having decided that upwards must mean the way out, he made his way up, the pain slowing him down considerably. He took each step laboriously, but he had a sense freedom was near as he pushed open an exit door at the top of the stairwell. He could see the light of the sun coming through the windows of what appeared to be a reception area, a large black desk with a computer monitor and a phone in front of him. Unfortunately there were also more soldiers, all of them pointing guns at him.

“Hands up! Don’t make any sudden movements.,” ordered the leader of the troops in a stern voice. “We’re not going to hurt you if you just comply.”

Kalahoc drew as much power as he could into his hands. He raised his hands slowly up in a theatrical manner, and just before they went past his head, he pushed them towards the soldiers, sending out a shockwave which threw them violently backwards.

The Sefanari warrior ran full speed towards the exit door, barging it violently open as some of the more quick-witted soldiers opened fire. One shot caught him in the shoulder but through sheer force-of-will carried on.

He reached a courtyard, various military vehicles parked up in bays and storage units. Kalahoc focused on himself and using his telekinesis abilities, raised himself closer and closer to the sky, before suddenly, and with a boom, launching himself at full speed through the air, with the base rapidly vanishing behind him.

A few hours earlier....

James Arkle and Elliot Caine had been best friends since they were 10 years old. Although, in a superficial sense, they were completely different in every way. James was by far the more outgoing of the pair, blonde, blue-eyed and remarkably in shape for someone his age. He had a love for lifting weights and martial arts like Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Thai Boxing.

Elliot, on the other hand, was far more introverted. He lacked the confidence of his friend, and his gothic fashion sense, shoulder-length black hair, and love for applying make-up meant that there was a remarkable contrast between the two. Despite his sheepish mannerisms, Elliot had a sharp sense of humour, his references to obscure TV shows and glam metal bands often soared over James’ head without trying.

The two met at a kid’s afterschool club when they were 13 years old, bonding over the fact that they and their mom’s both had oddly similar music tastes. In fact, both their moms went to see the band Manic Street Preachers at the same concert in the 90’s, which was a mind-blowing coincidence.

Their college day was about to end, they had just finished their last lessons before the half-term break, James had Spanish and Elliot had Sociology. James had finished slightly earlier and was waiting outside the front entrance of Lowtherton College, which was centred in the town of the same name, a somewhat unremarkable little place in the heart of the West Midlands.

James was staring out at nothing in particular when the doors parted and out stepped Elliott, breezing past him without looking up, walking with some pace. James had to jog to catch up with him.

He tapped him on the shoulder, which startled Elliott, in turn, startling James.

“Man, you shot right past me, what gives?” asked James, hiding the concern in his voice. He knew that Elliott didn’t fit in with many here at the college, and James knew how vicious some of the weird sport cliques could be, especially the footballers. They never gave James trouble, maybe because they saw him as one of them. Which, in spite of superficial appearance, he was not. He always hated how backwards and cruel they could be. James might have been brash and prone to saying some idiotic stuff, but deep down he had empathy and compassion. He was bullied a fair bit before he started training, and he never wanted to belittle people.

Elliott had an agitated look in his eyes, he kept glancing away from the college and towards the town, eager to get away. James recognised this and they began to walk. Elliott went to say something when they both turned their heads at the sound of the main doors violently opening.

It was a kid who they had seen from time-to-time called Danny Hensall, a short, brown-haired kid with rounded ears and an overly-long nose that gave him the appearance of a rodent. He hung out with another group of utter bell-ends, and he often projected his insecurities onto others.

James looked at Elliott and then glared at Danny. He started to march up to Danny when he saw someone shove Danny violently in the back. Danny turned around and received a sharp backhand square in the face which sent him stumbling. He thought about doing something, but then quickly scampered off.

James finally saw who the unknown avenging angel was. He beamed. It was Roberta “Bobbie” McCloud, a dear friend of James and Elliott’s who they met in their high school days.

“Yeah, you better run Danny, you little bitch. I may be a lesbian, but you know damn well I’ll turn straight just for your dad and be your step-mom.” she said loudly to the rapidly-retreating Danny.

She looked and saw the pair for the first time, her expression forming a mock-sheepishness which made the pair chuckle. Bobby (she always hated being called Roberta) was slightly shorter than James, with long hair that always seemed to naturally curl, no matter how much she tried to straighten it. She had a mixed African/British heritage which gave her a light brown complexion and blue eyes which had made Elliott quite enamoured with her, before he realised she was not into men at all.

“Sup, guys? That asshole giving you trouble again?” she asked Elliott, nodding in the direction of Danny’s escape.

He nodded but said nothing. James and Bobby looked at each other, worried about their dear friend.

James broke the silence. “You still coming on that trip, right? To the cabin?”

Bobby grinned widely. “Hell yeah man! I can’t wait, it’s gonna be the tits. Besides, I really don’t want to be at my house this weekend. My stupid mom invited her stupid sister and my cousins from Jamaica. They’re all so damn loud and insanely homophobic. I don’t think mom told them I’m lesbian, and I’m pretty sure they’d beg my mom to send me to a conversion camp if I did.”

James nodded and shrugged sadly. “It’s shit isn’t it? They need to get over themselves.”

“Agreed.” James often became saddened whenever he heard stories about kids being kicked out or abandoned by their families and friends for being gay or bi, etc.

James mentally and physically shook away the train of thought. He turned to Elliott, who seemed to have improved his mood.

“You coming too, bro? Don’t let me down.”

“Yeah I am, don’t you worry.” James was convinced that he saw a smile forming in the corner of Elliott’s mouth, which cheered him up considerably.

“Alright then, hope you got your shit all ready, because Sarah is picking us up later from yours, buddy.”

“In that case, cool, I’ll see you guys later.” Bobby waved at them before walking back to her house.