Prologue

A Story by thedarkrocket

This is the prologue to my dark superhero novel

Who decides what it means to be a hero? What it is that lies within each one of us that makes us the hero we are or the hero we aren't? I've lived a life of dedication to a cause that has left me stranded and deserted on my own little island of trust. It's never what we think it is. It never ends the way that it should. What am I talking about? I'm talking about life. My life has been compiled of heroism and protection; protection of a certain group of people that needed what I had to offer. Up until this point in time, it's been worth it. Sadly, not anymore.
So here I am, pacing back and forth on the rooftop overlooking Madison Street. I can hear the screams and the chaos and the destruction that is taking place ten stories below me. This city has finally given up. This city has given in to the violence and corruption that has slowly been seeping into every neighborhood, every block, every home. I can't really tell the good from the bad, human from mutant, life from lifeless.
I stopped pacing and looked down at my hands. These are the hands that provided me safety. They were my weapons and my guidance, yet the world decided that these hands are a danger to the same people that they once saved. HOW DARE THEY LOOK UPON ME FOR HELP NOW! The more I think of these pathetic lowlifes, the more I think of filling this 13 block street with a wave of flames that would deeply please my heart. I'M THE HERO! The rage flooded my soul over and over again. At some point in time, I was thought of as the hero this city needed. I rose above my team and all the other wannabe heroes. But now I'm just an escape route. They look to me now in their time of need, yet I'm nothing to them. I'm nothing because I no longer fit within the rules of the "hero code of conduct". But I'm no follower. I won't bend to the will of these people or their law.
I kneeled down and put my hand on the edge of the roof. I began running my fingers over the gravel. I wiped away dust and rocks until there was a small clear spot. The tip of my right index finger ignited in a small flame and I began searing small letters into the cement. When i was done, "Dark Rocket" was burned into the small patch of cement on the roof. Somewhere at some point in time, my name will be remembered. As I stood up, I heard the rooftop door open behind me. My hands erupted in flames as I turned to demolish anything on that rooftop besides me.
"Hold on, wait a minute!", a familiar voice shouted at me. I stopped and glared him in the eye. Only Troy would know where to find me.
"I think you need to leave. It's not safe up here. It's not safe for anyone", I responded. He just looked at me and slowly shook his head.
"Listen Dark, we need you. The team is falling apart and we're losing this battle. Just look down there". He pointed to a group of people that were trapped beneath a billboard that had fallen. "Do you see the destruction surrounding these people?".
"When it comes to my concern for the people down there, I have none", I said calmly and as cold as ice. "As for my feelings about this team you speak of, we're done. We were done a long time ago".
Troy's face filled with fury. He stared at me for an intense moment. He grabbed the collar of my jacket with both hands. "How could you say that something like that? I don't care how you feel about them as individuals, but we are supposed to stand together to prevent this kind of mess." His hands tightened around my collar and pulled me towards him. At that moment, I lifted him off the ground from under his arms and rushed towards the entrance that he came through. I slammed him against the door.
"I don't give a damn about the other members of this team", I growled through my teeth. "This mess is all because of them. I've been debating whether I should save the humans or walk away, but right now I'm inching towards taking them all out just so I could end it all".
I released him and he straightened himself out. He just stood there and shook his head. Part of me felt bad that I had just done that to my best friend. Part of me wanted to destroy everything that existed around me. I had to get away. Just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, I turned and ran towards the edge of the roof. I dived off of the edge and headed towards the destruction that long-awaited my arrival. I hadn't yet decided whether my intentions were to be a hero or a menace, but I felt like the most destructive being on the planet. At that moment, I realized that I didn't care what it meant to be a hero.