An Antagonist's Tale

New York City was as infamous as a city could get. The Big Apple was advertised extensively as a magnificent city that was a haven for opportunities. A place where dreams could blossom. That was a half-truth and the residents knew it, but no one dared to call the Supers out on it because the city was a highly profitable cash cow. They would come running to curb any threat that they caught a whiff of through any and every means at their disposal, however, none of them would even bat an eye if something were to happen in the Bronx. That's just the way things worked and the people had learned to not question it.

As a seventeen-year-old with an African-American mom and an Irish dad, Luca Caldwell had learned not to question anything as well. He looked out at the distant skyline from the terrace of his beat down school, watching as the municipality set up yet another billboard for the Supers. A wistful smile tugged at his lips.

The Supers were the heroes of the city. The protectors of the people. There were three of them and each one was as powerful as their alias. Ghost could turn invisible and shadow people at will. He was scarily quiet during fights too. Phoenix could fly and she was deadly fast. She didn't have as much fans as the rest, but Luca knew what she was capable of. Nova was a powerhouse of energy. Quite literally because she had the ability to send energy blasts. Each one was an absolute nightmare to deal with alone, and yet, Luca had been psychotic enough to go against them when they were together. Not once, not twice, but seven times in total.

Yeah, he probably had to get his head checked. Desperately.

"Caldwell!" a familiar voice called from below, making him look down to see his loud neighbor. The man was a construction worker. As a result, he had gotten used to yelling over the sound of thunderous machines. Unfortunately though, he had gone completely deaf in his left ear because of it, so no one in their neighborhood had the heart to tell him to stop screaming every time he opened his mouth. "Your grandma has been looking for you for the past fifteen minutes! She's worried sick!"

Luca's eyes widened as he hurriedly checked his phone. Eight missed calls. He looked away helplessly. His grandma was going to be downright furious.

"The poor woman is the only family you have left! Get back before she sends a search party!"

Oh. Had he forgotten to mention that his parents had become casualties during one of the fights the Supers had with a group of armed burglars? It must have slipped his mind, just the way it slipped the journalists who sung praises of the incident for weeks without even bothering to address the people who had lost their lives in the crossfire. It had happened three years ago, but Luca's throat still seized up the same way it did when he heard the news for the first time. It was always a bitter pill to swallow.

Jumping down from the ledge, he dusted his worn out jeans, wincing when he accidentally touched the darkening bruise on his abdomen. The Supers weren't the only one who thrashed him every once in a while. The bullies at his school did the job just as well.

He walked out onto the road, smiling internally when the sight of his beaten up face barely caught the attention of the residents. It was a common sight in the Bronx. Nothing out of the blue.

Just as he turned the corner to step into his neighborhood, a deafening ringing attacked his senses, sending him crashing down onto his knees. Luca breathed hard, keeping himself upright by pressing one of his palms down onto the rough gravel. The stones nicked his skin, but he couldn't worry about that, not when the ringing seemed to be affecting only him. He looked around with his blurry vision, unable to do anything about the onslaught of pain. He couldn't see anything clearly. His gaze darted all over, hoping to figure something out. What was happening? Why was everyone else just going about their day?

"Does it seem familiar, Carnage?"

He blinked rapidly to clear the haze that clouded his vision, his heart rate spiking up when it turned out to be futile. He couldn't. He couldn't see. Panic struck. "Who are you? What's happening?"

The person laughed. "Who am I? Oh. I'm deeply offended."

Luca gritted his teeth in frustration. "Who. Are. You?"

They bent down to his level, meeting his hazy gaze. "It doesn't matter. Do you remember what happened next? What happened to your grandmother?"

"She is—" He stopped, unable to complete his sentence. He couldn't remember. What had happened to his grandmother? "She—"

"Ah, I thought so." The person muttered before looking back. "Increase the dosage."

Dosage? What was happening? Where was he?

"Don't rack your brain so much. It gets fried enough already. Forget about what you don't know and focus on what you do. How do you feel right now?"

He blinked once. "What?"

"What emotion do you feel right now?"

Emotion? What emotion? Why was he asking such absurd questions? He couldn't let his nerves get to him, so Luca tried to ground himself by pressing his palm further into the gravel. The stones didn't nick his skin this time. In fact, it didn't hurt at all. He looked down, confused. He saw rough gravel, but that wasn't what his hands felt. The touch felt smooth and it felt cold. "Where am I?"

"Answer my question first. Do you feel angry?"

"Angry? Why would you—"

An eerie familiarity struck. This has happened before.

"Do you remember why you fought the Supers?"

How could he forget what they did? "Of course, they—"

"They what?"

His mouth went dry. Luca couldn't remember. He couldn't remember why he had fought the Supers. The reason was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't remember. What was happening to him? "W-Where am I? Who are y-you? Why c-can't I remember a-anything?"

The woman let out a heavy sigh. "Do you remember your name?"

He nodded hurriedly. "L-Luca Caldwell."

"Great. At least there's something up there."

"Let me refresh your memory then. Your parents died when you were fourteen. You couldn't take the injustice that happened to your family and to several others during the crossfire, so you tried to fight the Supers every chance you got. You never succeeded, but surprisingly, you never got caught either. You were heavily bullied in school for your race. That's not really relevant here, but oh well."

Snippets of his memory returned in sharp flashes.

"Moving on. You came back from school one day only to see your grandmother dead. The Head of the Supers Association had run her over with his car to get full custody of you. Yes, you. Poor little Luca Caldwell. The boy who was roaming around with an unimaginable amount of power. You didn't need it. You never have, but we did, so we tried to take it. We couldn't though. That was a pity, so we took control of you instead."

His throat was closing up at the revelation. "We?"

"Yes, the Supers Association." She clarified, a proud grin taking over her face. "In fact, I spearheaded the entire operation. I wouldn't be where I am today if it wasn't for that."

Luca reined his fist in, curbing the urge to break her nose. He had to know more. He had to know a lot more if he was going to figure out a way to escape. "Why did you need it?"

"You see, the public loves the Supers. They're the heroes, the protectors, the guardians. The Gods, some would say. They needed to see them in action more. New York is dangerous, but it's not dangerous enough. Nothing posed a real threat to the Supers. No one could match them. That's where you come in."

His vision got blurry again. Luca tried blinking vigorously, surprised to see it clear. Tears.

"The world needs balance. Every good guy needs a bad guy. Every hero needs a villain." She emphasized, leaning closer. "Every protagonist needs an antagonist."

A bad guy. A villain. An antagonist. That was him? That was all he was?

"The more fights the Supers get into, the higher support they garner. The public would go to any length to do things for them, the government would keep sponsoring them, the Association would get the money it needs to protect the people and everyone would be happy."

Luca carefully removed the bluff from each word. "You're doing this for profits?"

"I knew you were smart." She laughed, leaning back. "We've all got to do the things we've got to do. There's no way around it and you, my friend, you were born to play your role."

"A villain?"

"No. A monster."

She then showed him tapes of all the things that he had supposedly done. Damaging buildings, injuring people, killing people and destroying peace as the world knew it. That was how the world knew him? Not as Luca, but as a monster? As Carnage? What had he done to deserve that fate? Why was he treated differently? As an alien? Other people had powers too. Ghost did. Phoenix did. Nova did. Then why just him?

"Why?" he asked, clenching his jaw. "Why me?"

She sighed, standing back up. "No particular reason. You just painted the picture."

"Of a monster?"

She shook her head with a light chuckle. "No. A villain."

Luca's lungs refused to accept air. "How long has it been?"

"How long? Oh, just a little over thirteen years."

Thirteen years? Thirteen years. Thirteen.

Luca watched as droplets of water splattered on the floor. No, not water. Tears. His tears. He ran his thumb over them, connecting his sorrow. He was alone. He had no one left. No one, so why should his tears go through the same fate? He wasn't cruel. That had a mirthless chuckle escape him. Only he knew that.

"You took everything from me. My parents, my grandmother, my childhood, my peace and now my life. You said I painted the picture of a villain. Maybe I did, but I didn't want that. I wanted nothing of this sort for myself. I just wanted to have a normal life. A life without my beast. That was it."

She hummed indifferently. "Pity, but we don't always get what we want."

Rage swallowed him whole. "I've never gotten what I wanted!"

"It just wasn't in your stars then." She answered and turned to the mirror. "Increase the dosage. We need Carnage back in thirty minutes. The Supers are getting ready."

"Luca."

"What?"

He bristled. "I'm Luca. Not Carnage."

She laughed, her heels clacking against the floor as she walked to the door. "Luca Caldwell is dead. He has been dead for thirteen years. He doesn't exist. Only Carnage does."

Something snapped inside him at that. Luca couldn't explain it, but he felt it. Maybe it was his will to live or maybe it was his will to hold on. He didn't know. What he did know was that he was done. He was completely and utterly done. He couldn't do it anymore. He had tried so hard to keep his humanity intact, despite the death of his parents, despite the bullying, despite the exclusion he felt all his life for being mixed, despite never feeling like he belonged anywhere and despite the bad hand life dealt him with at every step.

He was done.

That realization gave him an odd sense of peace.

Peace so intense that he let the veil drop, letting his true form take over. They wanted Carnage. They didn't want him. They just wanted a monster. So, for the first time in his life, Luca let the expectations of people dictate his decisions. He was done resisting. He was going to give them exactly what they expected of him.

The bag guy. The villain. The antagonist.

And an antagonist they would get.

The most vicious and ruthless one of them all.