Nocturnal

That smile. I'll never forget that smile. The smile that put me straight into retirement. The smile that precipitated The loss of a hundred lives, and 20 that I knew and loved dearly. I still see it. Everytime I close my eyes, I see it. I open my eyes, expecting it to go away, and there it is. It’s all I see anymore. Every day. Every single night. Every hour and every second. There it is. 

See, I had always been infallible. I'm Michael Kross, a real-life superhero. The type of physical specimen you only see once every billion years, if you're lucky. 6 foot 8 inches tall, muscle fibers packed so densely, I could bend steel, resist gunfire, run faster than any man before or since with my enormous stride, jump as high as a man could dream, and so much more. Once, I had been poisoned, enough Cyanide to kill 10 men. My body simply closed off the point in which it entered my bloodstream and let it dissipate. I didn't even need an entire portion of my circulatory system for weeks and I hadn't even noticed until 8 days in. Needless to say, it felt like there was no stopping me, and honestly, there wasn't. Certainly not at the street level.

See, I was only ever a street-level vigilante. I was a specimen, but from the outside, I appeared as human as you or the man beside you. I liked to keep it this way. Even from a young age, my parents could tell I was an absolute specimen, to the point they feared if they took me to the doctor, I would be taken as a government experiment. My father wanted me to play basketball, but when I was getting steroid allegations at the age of 10, we decided that maybe that would be too high-profile.

So I spent my life downplaying my true athletic potential. The friends I've known, the woman I've loved, the family I've grown apart from, all of my life I spent holding back around them. So, I decided I needed some sort of outlet. Just some way to release all the raw energy flowing through my body, just waiting to be unleashed. So I decided, what better way than taking on criminals.

Sure, I was an athletic specimen, but plenty of dudes were 6'8. I come from a big city, with a lot of big guys. If I played my cards right, wore the right costume, operated at night, nobody would ever know who I am. I could keep the city safe with my gifts, while keeping my family safe if things were to go wrong or if I were to meet a particularly dangerous villain. Most of all, I feared for my girlfriend, Debbie. So innocent from her name to her mentality, the most gracious lover I have known in every sense of the word. As beautiful as the day is long, as bright and radiant as all of the stars in the universe, my biggest supporter through all of my secrecy. I find myself fearing I will put her in danger, but in a way, I feel I do it all for her as well.

That's what I thought anyway. But as my crime fighting career grew in prestige and notoriety, so too did the risks. I had thought about hanging up the boots so many times. Each time, I was lured back in by some act of selflessness I thought myself to be committing, but all along, they were nothing but selfish. I knew the longer I continued, the more I put those I love at risk.

I eventually built up to Superhero status, and of course, every Superhero needs a Supervillain. Little did I know, my first encounter with mine would too be my last. We met in an abandoned warehouse. He had gone all over the news, claiming that if I do not meet him and unmask for live television, he will blow up 15 random public service buildings in every city in the state. The media took these to be empty threats at first, but in my time doing what I did, I learned to take no threat lightly.

So I met him there, and I had a plan that, if I had no way to incapacitate, then that would be it. I would unmask, I would save the day, and I would get my family and Debbie out of the city before any repercussions came our way. However, plans changed quickly.

"Thanks for coming." He tells me. He goes by the name of Nocturnal. Operating at night, much like myself, he doesn't don a costume, at least not in the traditional sense. He was more of a James Bond, monocle type of villain. I took this as campy, and perhaps it made me underestimate him. He immediately points his gun at me.

"Now, I've heard the tales, but I know even you cannot outrun a bullet. Now, you are going to give me what I want, or you will watch this city burn."

"You really think I'll give up that easily? Unmask myself at the barrel of a gun?"

He lets out a soft chuckle, and then, that smile. That damn smile. That smile that haunts my dreams and illuminates my nightmares. The most sinister smile I had ever seen, it immediately sent shivers down my spine, but what happened next, that's what destroyed me.

"See, I don't need you to unmask, Michael Kross. I know everything about you." Before I can even think, he pulls a cord which lets down a tattered sheet that drapes onto the floor behind him. I see Debbie, my Debbie. She is strapped to a chair, her makeup is smeared and her hair is frizzled, and her clothes are torn. Tears run down her bruised face and roll onto the floor splashing into the pool of blood beneath her feet.

"I didn't bring you here to unmask. I brought you here to dehumanize you. There are not bombs in 15 public buildings. There are bombs in the house of your family, your friends, your loved ones old and new, everyone I could find with any connection to you. And they are all rigged to detonate when little Debbie here's heartbeat stops." He says to me, with the same grotesque smirk resting on his face.

"What do you want god damnit?" I say, trying to hide the trembling in my voice.

"What do I want?" He starts to laugh heartily. I think to strike now, but I am frozen with fear, and I miss my chance. He points the gun at Debbie.

He continues, "I want you to lose" and with that, he pulls the trigger. In what all seems like a single moment in time, her brains fly out of her head painting the wall, and the sounds of distant explosions shake the air. All the while, I am on camera, on top of this man, beating him to death. And I don't stop. I know I've killed him but I just don't fucking stop and there isn't a thought on my mind about it.

Police try to restrain me eventually having been outside and seeing everything, but I just can't control myself. Live on TV assuming the feed hasn't been cut, the only real-life superhero has been driven to madness and is beating police officers to death. All with one pull of the trigger.

The media vilified me, and rightfully so. I was public enemy number 1, and I had lost everything. My friends, my family, my sanity, the love of the people I spent my nights protecting. All gone in an instant. There was no chance of a life for me. My life without the mask would be trials and tribulations, distrust, and almost certainly life in a government prison designed specifically for me. And life with the mask? That was something I would only pursue in my worst nightmares.

I've been in hiding for months now. I never found out how, or why the man knew how I was. I never found out why he did the things he did. I never found out how he rigged all those bombs, how he had captured Debbie without my knowledge. I never tried either. I have completely given up the pursuit of vigilante justice, not that he needs it after what transpired that day. Still, I only wish I knew how I slipped up, and what I could do to take it all back in another life.