The Hero

“Do you really need to do this?” she asked me for probably the 100th time at this point. I just looked at her for a moment, before going back to the task at hand. A small comfortable book was resting in the palm of my hand as I flipped page after page. The book itself seemed rather nondescript, though the one that handed me this little black book told me that a key to my future rested within. Somehow the book called to me. The text itself seems to be pure gibberish and scribbles. Only the first 7 pages have anything, the rest is blank. I’ve been coming home every day for the last three months and focussing solely on uncovering the mystery behind this book.

“Do you remember what they looked like when they gave me the book?” I asked Lily.

She just looks at me with that kind of look. I can tell that I won’t be able to spend much more time on this tonight, so I take off my reading glasses and put the book on my nightstand.

“Finally! Maybe now we can do something far more interesting than a stupid book.” Lily says as she grins at me the way she knows will get a response.

Later that night, I find I am unable to sleep. I look over to my beautiful wife and kiss her gently. Shaking my head and looking at the clock I see it’s nearly one in the morning. I quietly slip from the room with my book. Downstairs I can see the full moon shining its pale light through the window. I look down at the book and can just make out the title on the cover. I slowly read it and ponder its meaning.

“The Fate and Fortune of the Hero”

I pause. The book never had a title. Nervously I open the cover and read the words written on the first page. They are clear as day to me in the pale light. Where the words should be dim and unreadable in the low light without my glasses they are crip and easy to see. I slowly sit on the floor in the middle of the living room as the moon's light filters in through the window and begin to read.

“The first. That’s me. I’m a hero. Or, I suppose I should tell the truth, I’m The Hero. I don’t think it’s something I wanted. It’s definitely not something I expected. I’m not even sure what all is expected of me, other than to ‘destroy great evil where it rises, keep the faith, and never look back’. The old man who gave me my task told me that I would not be the last to carry this title.”

A compulsion comes over me to continue reading. As I read the text I learn the fate of the first. Thrust into fighting evil, he tells of the foes that were ever-present, and of the shadows that seemed to haunt his sleep. Finally, his tragic last words spell the end of the First.

“It’s been a little over a year since I’ve begun this quest to rid the world of evil. Tonight I will go out again, and as it has happened so many times I don’t know if I’ll ever be here to write again. So as always, I leave the book to my dearest John, who, without his love, I never would have made it this far.

I suppose this makes me the second. I wonder, if I don’t fight the evil, I won’t have anything to fear. Perhaps being The Hero could even be quite easy.”

It seems dark things entered the world when the Second did not do his duty. Dark things that knew him as a hero. Perhaps he would have been the last but a little girl saw the book fall from his pocket earlier that night.

“Dear diary, I know it’s wrong to take things that aren’t mine but I’ve always wanted a diary. The last guy to have you obviously didn’t treat you well anyways, since he just scribbled on the pages and left you on the sidewalk. I’ll take care of you though! I promise. I’ll write to you every day and fill you up with all the things that happen in my life! Today was a wonderful day where we went to the park and I got to play with a cute puppy.

Anna May 19th, 1969”

As I read the words that were written by this little girl, I worried for this Anna. I pushed on, fearing the next entry under the pale moonlight.

“Dear diary… It seems funny I wrote this 10 years ago. I wrote in this book and forgot all about my promise to write in it every day. Finally today, though, as I move out I realize the other pages were not just scribbles. I saw it on my shelf as I was packing last night. I read the title and opened it. I don’t know if this makes me a hero as well, but I suppose it might. I’m not too sure what to do as a hero, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

I smiled a little at the brave young woman. She didn’t seem to write much, though what she did write seemed to tell the story in more detail than the first. She explained how the “Demons” could only show their true evil when the sun did not light the sky. She explained that a Hero must be at all times wary, but most of all on dark nights and stormy days. That a Hero could always see that which is evil for what it is and that which is truly good would not hide before the eyes of the Hero. Yet, even so, almost four pages in her story ended.

“I’ve looked back on all that I’ve written. I’m not really sure what I was supposed to write, and I imagine I probably didn’t write enough or right what I should have. I look back at the first thing I wrote in this book some 40 years ago and I can’t help but smile at the silly 12-year old girl I was then making such bold promises only to be forgotten in the morning. Before I give up on humanity I know I must go out fighting, so I won’t be writing anymore after today. If I could give some parting words of wisdom from an old hero to The Hero, perhaps it would be this: don’t lose hope. Don’t let yourself be deceived. Know that even a small action can mean the world to someone. You can do this. Goodbye, my little black book.”

Four and Five kept it simple. They wrote briefly about their experiences but didn’t really tell their story. It wasn’t until I reached the sixth that another one emerged who seemed to want what he had.

Now here is something that seems to hold hope for whoever takes up the title of Hero next. I pause as I consider this. Whoever takes up this title. The Hero. The one who can read this book. I work to push the thoughts that are threatening to overwhelm me away and push on. The Sixth writes of innate powers the Hero has to destroy demons. He writes of a woman who knows even more of the powers of the Hero and encourages all those who bear this mantle. Finally, his story comes to an end and I’m left with the blank pages following it.

“They found me. I know how too. I was foolish, I never considered that the ones handling my money in the bank would track down what I was buying and use it to identify me as the Hero. I never imagined they would have I’ve run away as there are too many for me, and I know I cannot let the book fall into their hands. I’ve run to the woman in New Orleans. I took every bit of cash I had available, twenty grand, and asked her to keep it and the book safe for the next one. Go to her, she’ll give you the money and a start to what you need to survive and destroy the evil. You’ll know it’s her when you see the radiant goodness she gives off. If you’ve made it this far into my story be wary. Remember ‘I am The Hero’.”

Blank pages. I hear my steps creak as I stay seated staring at the blank pages ahead of me. Lily speaks then, her voice sounding rough from waking in the middle of the night.

“What’re you doing up right now babe?” She asks me.

Still looking at the book I start to answer, “I cracked the code. You won’t believe what this…” I stopped as my eyes trailed up to see Lily standing a few feet from me. She looks different under the pale moonlight. She looks… Wrong.

“Don’t worry, I believe you. I also know, we could stay together. We could be happy, if you give me the book and come with me. Things don’t have to end for you tonight.” Her smile is wicked. I can see her teeth seem sharper then they have any right to be. Her skin has a reddish hue to it. I slowly stand up, still holding the book.

“How? What happened to Lily?” I say to her, forcing myself to remain calm.

Her smile widens. “I am Lily. I’ve always been Lily. For the whole time you’ve known Lily, it’s been me. I’m sorry I had to tweak your memory a little bit. It’s true we only met three months ago, but haven’t these past few months with me been fun? Surely you don’t want to give up this?” She says as she steps closer to me.

I feel my very soul screaming in terror as I look upon her and realize that she’s been in my mind. She’s been a part of my life for only three months, but I feel as though I’ve known her for years. I steel myself as she stands directly in front of me.

“Give. Me. The. Book.” she says with steel in her own voice.

I remember the words of the sixth and I say them quietly. I feel power coursing through my body as the words leave my mouth “I am The Hero.” I punch the thing that I thought I loved and watch as it slowly burns itself up before becoming little more than a pile of ash on my living room floor.

It isn’t long after I watched the thing I thought was my wife die that I’m on the road to New Orleans with everything I own that I could carry in my car and all the cash I could quickly take out of an ATM. As I drive I see the strangeness in the world around me. Tiny points of radiant light, that I can only sense as being pure good with darkness ever encroaching on those points of light. I know I’ll not be able to defeat it all on my own, but I can start. I can start something new too. I see one of those bright lights sitting by an interstate overpass. A woman with a shopping cart. I pull over and she looks at me.

“You are good.” She says to me. I reply with the same words. Shortly it’s the two of us in my car still driving. I might be The Hero, but that doesn’t mean I have to be the only hero. And with just twenty grand and whatever else the old lady has for us, perhaps we can find more and we can all be The Hero together.