Superhuman

It was a day like any other day. Shunned by society, he wandered the alleys and dark places of society Raiding trash bins and waste dumps just to survive, that was his existence. Born an orphan of unknown heritage in a time when society no longer cared for such as he. He survived his early years thanks to another like him, a woman born into the life he now led. At one point however, the life she led grew to be to much for her, and he watched as she allowed a river to swallow her. There was no funeral. Know one probably even knew she died. But he did. They actually resented and ignored their existence; His existence.

Some days, after his basic needs where meet, he would simply sit back and contemplate whether or not he actually existed. After all, if no one acknowledges you, if your life goes unnoticed, and leaves no mark … do you really exist? The one who allowed him to live, she existed. She existed because he acknowledged her. She had carved her existence into his life. But those others, the ones who lived in comfort, the ones who's trash he had to eat, to them, that point was wasted. He eventually grew to envy them, and hate them.

By birth he was destined to live a life of nothing but pain and suffering. By birth he was destined to live a life of loneliness. As he walked the street on one of the occasions he had to leave the alley he called home, a blue convertible traveling far to fast to be safe raced by, quickly followed by sirens and blazing blue and red lights, he wandered why people like them where worth more than him.


Another one. Another car-jacking, or another get away. It didn't matter. It all came down to the same thing in the end. He would stop the car and incapacitate those inside for the safety of the public. Leaping across the gaps between the lowed buildings of the city, he quickly caught up to the pursuit and leapt down, keeping pace with the car, he positioned himself in front of it, and placing his hands of the front of the car, began to slow down, using his strength to slow it down as well. He could have easily stood there and allowed the car to ram him, but at that speed the occupants would have certainly died, and killing wasn't his style. Aside from the, he could not guarantee that wreckage would not kill others. Shots rang out from the inside of the vehicle he was stopping. The bullets easily penetrated the windshield, but before hitting him, the was a dull glimmer and they stopped, falling harmlessly to the ground.

The car came safely to a stop, and the driver and passenger began to open their doors to flee, but were stopped short as two hands shot threw the windshield and grabbed the front of their shirts, They struggled, threw punches, and even fired bullets, which awarded them with nothing more than empty clips. He calmly banged their heads against one another, rendering them unconscious. The cops had of course arrived by this time, and where cautiously approaching the car. He backed away from the car, brushed himself off a bit, and turned away. After a quick wave behind him to indicate it was safe, he leapt onto the closest building and left the scene. Kitsune had saved the day again.

A nosebleed. Great. As if his life wasn't bad enough, now he had a sticky red substance dripping from his nose, True, it was a particularly dry day out, but complaining made him feel a little better about everything. He laid down and tilted his head backwards to keep the blood from dripping any more, and began breathing faster to scab the source and stop the bleeding. After a few minutes it had stopped and he stood. What day was it again? He asked himself, and quickly decided it was Wednesday. On Wednesdays the pizza place down the street through away their unused ingredients at the end of the day because the next morning new stock arrived. While the meat was useless because he couldn't cook it, the cheese, tomato paste, and other ingredients where still good. He made his way through the alleys and has his meal, while thinking about how wasteful people where. It was on his way back however, that his existence was created, As he passed by a shabby looking apartment building three men walked through one of the other alleys, and seeing him, walked quickly towards him. He recognized a mark on all other their arms to be that of a local small time gang. As they drew closer, he also noticed a slight stagger in their walk and a certain look in their eyes. As they drew closer still, he also noticed the taint of alcohol on their breaths. It was when the finally stood directly in front of him that one of them spoke.

“You think you are a real tough guy don't you, runt?” And a fist knocked him to the ground. His nose began to bleed again, and he stood back up.

“Not at all.” He answered as he regained his footing. Another fist struck him down again.

“And a smart ass to boot are you?” A bruise began to form around his eye, and again he stood.

“No, I'm not.” He said calmly, but his voice offered no defiance, no pride, no emotion. It was merely the statement it was and nothing more. The man was ready to strike, but not the tone of the answer, but rather the lack of one caused him to stop from striking, and instead he asked a simple question.

“Do you value your life, boy?” Life, the act of living, of breathing. Did he value life? No. What was living without existence?

“No. I have no value of a life without existence.” The man looked at him, confusion in his eyes.

“He's out of his mind guys. What are you going on about?” He asked, irritated.

“Life isn't existence. Existence is affecting other people, of leaving a trace of your self behind that is their beyond your life. That is existence. If I found another like me, and impregnated her, and all three of us died before the baby was born, would it have existed at all if none other than the two of us that died were ever affected by it?” The mans eyes showed curiosity, then confusion, and finally anger. After all, people don't often like to have their views or understandings challenged. Ignoring what had been said,

“Why didn't you run when you saw us coming?” He snapped.

“Because you where approaching me, and I thought I saw a chance to exist. To exist because of people like you three is pathetic, but it is existence nonetheless. But judging by your intoxicated state, I doubt I will still exist in the morning.” Finally fed up with the confusing kid and angry of the insult thrown at them, the three attacked him. After all they where members of the Sentinels, who did this street trash think he was talking to them like that?

On his way home, after a hard day of saving lives, Kitsune heard an angry yell from an alley he was passing over and stopped to glance down. What he saw made him angry. He was used to seeing crime, but he had never witnessed three grown men attempting to beat a child to death. Leaping into the alley, and swift swing of his arm knocked all three of the men against a building with sufficient force as to crack it. Needless to say, this rendered the three unconscious. The boy merely looked at him. Even in his beaten and bloody state, he just looked at him, blinked, and sighed.

“It was good to exist, if only for a moment.” Was this boy crazy? He had just had the crap kicked out of him, and all he says is that it was good to exist.

“What are you talking about? How is getting the crap kicked out of you existence?” The boy laid back and closed his eyes.

“They interacted with me, took notice of me. To them, unlike everyone else, my existence was etched in their memory. But they won't remember me, so I won't exist any more.” This boy must have been hit in the head one to many times. I’ll play along, maybe it will make him feel better.

“I’m talking to you, taking notice of you, and I will remember you. So you exist.” The boy smiled sadly.

“You don’t count.” Was this kid playing for more sympathy or something? By his own logic that made no sense. He was about to argue, but decided that the boys wounds needed attention first.

“Lets get you to a hospital.” He said as he went to pick him up, but the boy held up his hand.

“I refuse.” He said simply, emptily. It would be no problem to pick the kid up and take him there by force, but to take someone against their will would be an abuse of his power wouldn’t it? True the wounds weren’t life threatening but…

“Well I’m at least going to fix you up.” He picked him up, and the boy didn’t resist. He carried him to the street, and right on the other side was a small store. Walking in, he took notice off the cashiers startled face.

“Oh my God, are you alright?” The boy didn’t respond.

“As you can see, I need some medical supplies” The clerk started running around the store, gathering things.

“Right, anything for Kitsune.” Eventually a pile of supplies where on the front desk,

“Um, I’m sorry, I must have left my wallet at home.” He said after a quick look through his pockets.

“No problem, you’ve done enough for this city. This is free of charge. Any time you need fixed up, feel free to drop by. After all, helping the great Kitsune, I’m just glad to be of service.” After a few minutes the kid was bandaged up.

“ I think you should be alright now.” Still no response. Oh well, it was understandable, he was rather beat up. Leaving the shop, he jumped on a building near the alley where the incident occurred.

“Stop.” A voice said.

“So I see your finally coming around. I think I’m going to take you back to my place, at least until you get better.”

“No, your not, just put me down where you found me.” His voice conveying that it was useless to argue.

“Alright, alright.” Dropping into the alley, Kitsune put the boy on his feet.

“Just promise to take care of yourself alright?” “I always do. After all, no one else does” He said as he began to walk away. Well, wasn’t that the most ungrateful comment he had ever heard. Oh well. He though. I guess I can’t expect everyone to be grateful.

“I’ll check up on you tomorrow!” He yelled at the child’s retreating form, before leaving himself.

The president sat behind his desk. A stressful meeting with the UN had just ended. Most of them still refused to see his point, but no matter, the situation had mostly been dealt with, so he didn’t really need there support.

“Mr. President you have a call on line one. Its urgent sir.” His secretary paged, interrupting his thoughts. He picked up the phone.

“Yes?” He listened for a moment, shock and worry played across his face.

“Your sure?” He waited a moment.

“Casualty rate?” Another pause.

“My God. Suggested course of action?” Pause.

“Nothing? Can’t you blow it up?” Pause.

“To large? How long do we have?” Desperation and despair where now in his eyes.

“Alright, I’ll let the cabinet know. Begin evacuating key members of the government. I’ll come up with a statement. How long till Civilians can see it?” Pause.

“Alright, Keep them quite until I address the nation, Thank you. Good-bye” He hung up the phone and sate in though for a long moment, loosened his tie, let out a sigh, and finally hit the page button.

“Thornton? Have a press conference set up for the day after tomorrow.”

“I expected you to be asleep.” Kitsune said to the kid, who at the moment was laying on a closed trash bin. “Whets your name anyway?”

“I don’t have one. The one who raised me always called me her little lost lamb. She never gave me a name.”

“Well, don’t you think you should pick one then?” The kid let out a sigh.

“Why? Why name something that doesn’t exist?” So he was still going on about that was he?

“I’m telling you, even by your own logic, since I know you…” He was cut off as a large explosion went off nearby.

“We’ll finish this later.” He yelled as he rushed towards the source of the noise. Smoke was pouring into the sky. He arrived in time to see the building that had been hit by the explosion began to topple over, and the idiotic crowd that had gathered to see what happened began to scream and run, but not fast enough. He positioned himself under it, and as it fell on him, he trust his hands upwards, and a faint glow surrounded him, and the surface of the building, the buildings windows shattered, raining glass off the sides, but there was nothing he could do about that.

The field itself was merely an indestructible solid object. Even if he had tried to stop the building from falling with his immense strength, the building would have just either bent around his form, or he would have gone through it and it would have fallen anyway, The field gave him a surface he could hold without fear of collapse. Slowly, he lowered the building to the ground, and people began to cheer. That was their Kitsune. He left quickly and returned to the boy. When he arrived, he coughed and a large amount of blood came with it. He had never attempted to use such a large field, and it was now obvious that it was with good reason.

“If it hurts you, why do you help them?” The kid asked curiously.

“Because they can’t help themselves, so I have to.”

“You don’t have to, you choose to. Why do you choose to help people like that?”

“The all have their faults, but everyone does. Most of them aren’t cruel intentionally, and acts that hurt others are usually unconscious decisions, or ones that people are not even aware that they have made. I help them because every one deserves to live, if for no other reason than to find forgiveness for those unintentional acts.”

“Then I guess we’re completely different then. I think they all should be punished for their acts.”

“Who are you to say that? Your no better then they! They may shun your life, but you hold spite and malice towards them all! You hate them. With reason or not, you are just as bad as they!” Anger overcame the boys usually calm features.

“And what then?! Your perfect then? You have no malice, no anger, and you help every one your can! Does that make your perfect?”

“By no means.” He replied calmly.

“Every one has their faults. I envy them, I am jealous of their lives. To live in peace, to not have the responsibilities I have. If I could I would give up my powers in an instant so I could live as they do, free of the burden I carry, and that is my fault. We are not so different. Both of us are alone, are lonely. Both of us desire to live their lives instead of our owns. The only difference between us is that you hate them for it. The only difference is your choice to hate, to sit here and seethe in your anger, and to exist as you are, never trying to become something more! Think about that!” He screamed at the boy as he left. That was the last time they met.


The next day the President called a conference that stated a meteor the size of the moon would be hitting the Washington, DC area soon. Crime rates soured and panic swept the streets, Kitsune’s life became very busy, and the boys life changed little. Eventually the meteor entered the atmosphere.
So I guess this is it. The end of it all. Well, I won’t go done without a fight. I won’t let everyone die without a fight. Kitsune thought as he ran towards the point of impact, and arriving, created a growing field bellow his feat, and raised himself to meet to meteor.

As he reached it, he halted his platform from rising, and focused all the energy he could bring forth in creating a field with sufficient surface area as to allow him to put his strength against most of the meteor. As he griped and shoved upwards, his platform was forced into the ground, and aside from slowing it down a minuscule amount every moment, he made no progress, so he changed tactics. Instead of letting is platform sink into the ground, he made the base increase in size at the same rate it would have sunk, giving him more surface area on the ground to work with.

Every bit of even his supernatural strength was struggling against the force of the meteor, and he was loosing ground quickly. The energy around his hands flickered, and for a moment they where different somehow, but they quickly fixed themselves. Eventually, he found himself nearing ground level and he split his power, half focusing on the meteor and the other half on the ground. Parts of the meteor began crumbling around the sides and falling off, but he ignored them. The ground began to cave in under his field, but again this was something he ignored. Quickly, he found himself in complete darkness aside from the faint glow of his field as the meteor's edges outside of his field had reached the ground, and continued to plow through, but he continued to struggle, now with the earth itself as his ally. He continued to struggle until the meteor finally came to a stop.

It was at that moment that he realized he was going to die.

He was trapped under an enormous meteor, with his field the only this stopping him from being crushed and he was spent. At last his power failed him and the meteor began to fall the short distance to end his life. But he was changing, and the form that hit the ground was just a boy. But the huge mass of rock was indifferent as it sealed the hole, crushing all that was within.