Mystery
The Covidian
Superhero Name: The Covidian Secret Identity/Alter Ego: Ill tempered Holiday Inn Express hotel manager Stephen Franks Origin Story: Stephen Franks is the only man in the world confirmed to have been infected with the original Covid-19 strain and all 26 known variants. During his 27th bought of the disease, he developed severe encephalitis and the resultant nerve damage in the brain caused him to develop a number of what have been characterized as "superhuman" abilities. He also developed a neurological disorder similar to Bells Palsy which resulted in a severe lisp, permanent paralysis of the left side of his face, drooping of his eyebrows and mouth, drooling from the right side of his mouth, difficulty closing one eyelid, and severe facial pain along with disordered movement of the muscles that control facial expressions, loss of the sense of taste on the front 2/3 of his tongue, and chronic tinnitus. He uses his superpowers to fight the greed and laziness of the hospitality industry whom he claims used Covid-19 an excuse to cut costs and reduce quality rather than as a source of severe disfigurement and painful disease as he did. He discovered his superpowers by accident on the day he learned of the new 5pm closing time for all hotel pools in his hometown of Cleveland, Ohio which the hotel chains attributed to a shortage of lifeguards caused by Covid-19. The move was expected to save the hotels an estimated 1.5 billion dollars in combined labor and lawsuit avoidance costs. Stephen's anger at that policy caused two of his super abilities to activate. Eventually he would learn that all of his powers could be activated by anger and/or disgust.
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Fiction
Artist's Grasp
I have always loved capturing people, especially those unaware—the real them. Their essence. Even before I discovered... my powers. I would sketch a stranger quietly. I longed to own more than just their image, though. Two of my favourite quotes sum up why I loved it so much. While Steve McCurry said, "if you wait, people will forget the camera, and the soul will drift into view.", the late, great Oscar Wilde remarked "Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter." These words echo in my mind as I work.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
Zulu Squad
It was silent as the dawn approached on the Bragmen’s airforce base. For the soldiers on watch, it was another uneventful night. Their shift would soon end, and they would return to the barracks. To get some much needed rest. As they patrolled the perimeter, they scanned the grounds for any intruders or enemy agents. But they never really expected any. They hardly bothered looking up at the sky, why would they? They had a powerful radar scouring the area for anything that put off a heat signature and a control tower full of trained air traffic controllers armed with binoculars and spotlights. There was no known aircraft that could breach the base without being detected, stealth or otherwise
By Dom Warden2 years ago in Fiction
The Artist
The first time Vinnie knew he was different was when he was 7. Drawing was always Vinnie's specialty, one night he drew a small UFO, a perfectly circular disc with a bubble atop the centre. Inside was an alien waving, as the ship was beaming up a sheep - he thought a person would be difficult, and a horse or cow seemed too big. The very next day, Vinnie was out on a walk with his family, in the distance, off to his right over a field, Vinnie saw the exact same UFO he'd drawn the day before, and it was beaming up a sheep.
By Liam Storm2 years ago in Fiction
The Night Equation
The squeak of Gene's mop bucket echoed through the empty halls of Westfield University's physics building. At 2 AM, the only illumination came from the soft glow of emergency lights and the pale moon peeking through tall windows. Gene hummed softly, a tune from a time not yet come to pass, as he pushed his cart towards his favorite classroom.
By Muhammad Hassan2 years ago in Fiction
The Blood Alchemist; Chapter 10
The next day is rather uneventful. We keep to our quick pace, pausing this time for lunch. It's then that we decide we'll stop earlier than yesterday so we can hunt tonight. Tomorrow, we'll be too close to the city to risk splitting up.
By Katarzyna Crevan2 years ago in Fiction
Rox Kasker
Boston Rox Kasker braced himself for impact as he fell fifty feet from the giant oak tree in the heart of the Boston Common. The branch he was standing on wasn’t as strong as he assumed it was, snapping under the weight of his two hundred twenty pound frame.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Fiction
Box
No one used telephone boxes anymore but they were still very sturdy structures although mainly used as urinals. He was homeless and temperatures were going to drop below freezing so the telephone box was his only option. It would keep him a little warmer and drier but he would come out smelling of stale urine, feeling even worse than he went in, but at least alive.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
