Decker: Chapter 01

Dear Hero Diary:

So, I’ve finally decided to go through with it.  I’m going to be a super hero!  Now that I’m getting ready, I can’t help but wonder why I waited so long!  I mean, I can fly!  I’m a telekinetic, sort of.  Why aren’t I out there, right?  Power, and responsibility, and all of that.  I’ve even got a hero name.  Decker.  What do you think of that, huh Diary?

Decker looked up, and chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully.  “Do you think it’s weird to write this all down, Ms. Fibblesworth?  I mean, Hero Diary?  Is it too…?”  She tapped the pencil on the book, leaving a constellation of tiny black dots.  “I was thinking maybe Decker’s Combat Log instead.  Or maybe Case Files?  What’cha think?”

Ms. Fibblesworth, being a cat, thought little of it at all.  Cats are like that.  They’ll listen, maybe, but they won’t often care.  She looked at Decker with feline disinterest, then went back to cleaning herself. 

Not that Decker noticed.  She already had her head back in her diary.

Superhero suits are NOT cheap, btw.  Ok, maybe I could have just gone with, like, spandex or something?  But spandex can rip, and the sales lady told me that if a suit’s going to rip?  It’ll pick the worst time to do it, and the worst way.  She had horror stories, and I don’t want anything like that to happen.  So, five hundred dollars later, I have a suit made of Pavlov Cloth. It’s the most I’ve ever spent on anything ever.  It’s worth it though, right?

The suit I got is a basic gymnast thing.  You know what I mean Diary; full arms, bathing suit bottom bit.  Gymnast, right?  Oh, and when I say basic, I mean basic.  It’s black, and there’s no logo or anything.  You know what though?  That’s a good thing, cause I don’t have a logo yet anyways.

Also, you know what?  I almost bought a domino mask, because they were cheap?  But then I thought; I already wear glasses at work to hide my eyes. Glowing eyes sorta go noticed, right?  Anyways,  I figure I’m already protecting my secret identity, only in reverse.

Decker hopped from the bed, and posed in front of the mirror for the millionth time.  She smiled heroically, straightened her back, and thrust her hands on her hips.  Decker held the pose for a bit, her smile shifting slowly from heroic to awkward.  She slouched forward, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s pretty form fitting,” Decker commented.  She twisted to look at the back of her suit in the mirror, and frowned as she plucked at her wedgie.  “I was thinking maybe I’d add pants, or shorts.  Maybe a cape?”  Decker glanced about the small apartment, but unless she counted the bed sheets, she wasn’t in possession of a cape.  Decker wasn’t about to count the bed sheets as hero fare.

Undeterred, Decker tore through her closet.  She pulled out a  pleated skirt and a long scarf.  Both were the same navy blue as most of her clothes.  Born with dark blue hair, and glowing light blue eyes, Decker had been pretty much forced when it came to color scheme for her stuff.  Not that she minded.  Blue was a fine color.

Decker tugged on the skirt, and tossed the scarf over her shoulder in fine aviator fashion.  The scarf was thick enough to drape over her chest, and the skirt was long enough to stop just above her knees.  She posed again, this time much happier with the results. 

“I’m thinking I’ll make the scarf my thing,” Decker explained to her cat.  “You know, instead of a logo?”  She mimed pointing at the sky.  “Everyone will be all like: there goes Decker.  She owns a scarf.”  Decker shrugged at Ms. Fibblesworth.  “It’s a start,” she declared.

Ms. Fibblesworth stuck a leg in the air, and continued cleaning.  Even for a cat, this was a high level of disregard.  Still, Decker barely noticed.  She scratched Ms. Fibblesworth quickly behind the ear, and skipped away from the bed.

Decker dashed about her small basement apartment, fighting imaginary foes.  She swung wild haymakers, threw vicious jabs, and gave devastating, though low, kicks.  She was wearing a skirt after all.  Caught up in the excitement, and surrounded by imaginary enemies, Decker brought her hands dramatically to one side, and then thrust them forward in a full Hadouken.  “Bam!” she yelled. 

She immediately regretted it. Decker had a tentative grasp on her abilities at best.  Sometimes, they got away from her, especially when she was excited.  Decker’s hair stood on end, and her eyes flared bright enough to light the room.    “Oh, oh no,” she pleaded, “I was just pretending!”  She gasped as blue kinetic power flew from her outstretched hands, and slammed full force into the dishes stacked in the kitchen.

Decker had heard people describe telekinesis like a set of remote hands.  It was used to lift and move objects about.  Delicate like.  Controlled.  She honestly wished that was true.  Decker saw her own telekinesis more like a sledgehammer.  She moved things alright, but with bolts of pure concussive force, and often in an abrupt and forward fashion. 

In this case, Decker was moving the dishes from the kitchen counter.  They exploded dramatically despite Decker’s attempts to control her powers.  Dented pots and shattered ceramic flew across the small apartment. 

Decker stared at the floor, and watched as a plate rolled to a stop at her feet.  She sighed, and forced a smile.  “Ok,” she admitted.  “That could have gone worse I suppose.”  Decker winced as she heard the thumping on the ceiling; and the concerned and annoyed voice of Mrs. Laurentian.

“Is everything alright down there?”  Mrs. Laurentian; Decker’s landlord, lived upstairs.  She was a nice old lady, but she had the ears of a bat; and didn’t like noise much.

“Everything’s fine,” Decker replied, a bit too quickly.  “I’m just…” Decker looked about.  “I’m just rearranging my kitchen is all.”

There was a long pause from upstairs.  “It’s a lovely day outside dear,” Mrs. Laurentian offered finally.  “Far too nice for a young lady to be cooped up inside cleaning.”

“Yes Mrs. Laurentian,” Decker called up.  She quickly recovered what dishes could be salvaged, and cleaned up the mess.  Finally, Decker pulled on her boots, and made for the door.

“Mrs Laurentian’s right,” Decker told Ms. Fibblesworth.  “I need to get outside.  I can’t fight crime if I spend the whole day inside.”

Reviews

[TLK]

Your first two chapters are very dialogue heavy. This is a problem for me, as I find the dialogue rather 'cute' and, while it has a consistent stylistic effect, it doesn't drive the story forward for me.

[Paul Mundane]

Thanks for taking the time to read it! It's true, very little happens in the first few chapters. In the final edit, I may consider shortening them into just one chapter, and getting on with the story a bit sooner.