Hallie Helen
21 year old aspiring journalist who spends most of her time reading and writing fan fiction.
Hallie Helen
21 year old aspiring journalist who spends most of her time reading and writing fan fiction.
21 year old aspiring journalist who spends most of her time reading and writing fan fiction.
21 year old aspiring journalist who spends most of her time reading and writing fan fiction.
He had never thought it would come to this. He had saved the people of this city from the mob boss, Ferguson, for over two years now and had never gotten close to a situation like the one he was in now.
He knew that Ferguson, that miserable oaf, wanted to know who he really was. Who hid behind the yellow mask and blue cape. Isn’t that what every villain truly wanted? Not to beat the superhero that hold up an entire building with just their left hand or fly so high that they were no longer visible to the naked eye. No, what they really wanted, or at least what Ferguson wanted, was to destroy his personal life. Find what hurt him and turn the whole city against him.
With his wife tied to a chair less then a foot away from him with explosives attached to almost every part of her where flesh showed, Ferguson finally found a way to get what he wanted. The mob boss made it clear enough, if he didn’t reveal his identity to the woman he loved and to the camera facing him that was currently broadcasting the the entire nation, he would press a button and there would suddenly be nothing left of his wife.
“Come on, now.” Ferguson smirked at him, and the hero was reminded of a cat that got the cream. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
The hero closed his eyes and let his breathing steady before he looked at the camera and squared his shoulders. He had to do this. Long ago he had made the decision that when it came to protecting himself or others, he would always choose the latter.
He looked at his wife one last time. She had tears running down her face but she was watching him. Although she wasn’t aware of it, just her presence gave him courage.
Looking at the camera his lifted his hands to his mask, ever aware of the blinking red light that made it clear that it was on. When he pulled it off he looked over at his wife whose eyes were bulging as she looked at her husband. Beside surprise, he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He didn’t dare look at Ferguson but instead decided to address the camera to get this all over.
“Hello, people of the nation. For the past several years you have known me as the hero, Sentry. I have made it my duty to show up when I was needed and I have never asked for your gratitude. The only thing I ask now is for your attention.
“Today, I have decided to reveal who is behind the mask. My name is Mark Hansen and I apologize for my deceit.” He stood looking at the camera until Ferguson strolled over and turned the camera off.
With a smile that was far too predatory, he tossed the remote for the explosives towards Mark and strode off with a small remark before he disappeared, “I’ll be seeing you, Mark.”
Placing the remote to the side he quickly made his way to his wife and untied her. After pulling the gag from her mouths he still didn’t say anything, she only continued to look him up and down as though she had never seen him before. Once there were no more bombs on her he pulled her into his arms and flew out of the open window that he came in from.
They were half way home when she finally spoke, “I understand why you had to keep the secret from everyone else, but why me? I thought we shared everything with each other.”
The hurt in her voice was evident. Mark swallowed the lump in his own throat and looked down at her. Her usual curly brown hair pressed to her face from sweat, her blue eyes were bloodshot and tears stained her cheeks.
“Elaine, I never wanted to keep this a secret from you. I only did it to keep you safe.” Was his response. While it was the truth he knew it wasn’t good enough.
“I have been in harms way at least three times this past year. I don’t think your little plan worked.” She said angrily.
“When we got married all I asked was for no lies and yet,” she gestured to the yellow costume he was still wearing.
“Ela-“ Mark started but was cut off.
“I need some time, Mark.”
One learns to live for the moment when a volcano looms nearby. Truthfully, no one really knew of it was going to erupt any time soon but without so much as saying anything to anyone else, they all agreed to stay where they were. This was their home after all and a pesky volcano wasn’t going to make them leave.
The people on the island had a different way of thinking then others, though. Why hold back what they were thinking or how they felt if they knew that at any moment an eruption could happen and they would all be reduced to ashes.
The island was an honest place. Filled with love and understanding. Apparently, when death hangs above your head you find it in yourself to forgive easier.
Lovers embraced more passionately. Not hiding their feelings or pretending they didn’t exist. Kids ran around laughing loudly, not afraid to be quiet. Of course, when somebody was angry that would make an appearance as well but not having to hold it back and let it fester until it became unbearable often made the ugly feelings melt away.
It seemed that, although, they would die at anytime the people of the island knew something the rest of the human race did not.
That life is right now and if you aren’t living it to the fullest you weren’t truly living at all.
Growing up my mother had always warned me to avoid mirrors. She would say how mirrors show you who you truly were and that no human, immortal or monster would truly be able to come to terms with what would be looking back at them.
I had always thought it was a old wives tale. Something to explain why we had no mirrors hung up around the house or why no other person in our small village had one.
The lake was the only way that we could see our reflection. Sometimes when I went down to the lake I would find a group of young girls giggling and leaning over the lakes edge to look at themselves. Nothing had ever drawn me to my reflection before. So I never thought to seek it out.
Many would say that my life was dull, with the same tasks every day. Hang the clothes out on the line in the morning, get water from the well and carry it home, find berries and mushrooms just outside of the dense forest for our dinner. Truthfully, I liked my mundane routine.
That was until one cold Autumn night when I was out too late by the forest scavenging for mushrooms. I hadn’t realized how late it was until I heard what sounded like the quiet beat of drums coming from the forest.
It was another warning that everyone in the village knew. Don’t go into the forest. Those who do, never return. Unlike with the mirrors I had heard stories of the forest. Known young women who wandered in and never came back. We never talked about them. Afraid that just saying their names would summon whatever drew them in, to come out.
The fear that was instilled in her since she could walk seemed to vanished that the drumbeats seemed to pick up. She swore that it beat to the sound of her heart. Her breathing started to get heavier and she felt light. Turning slowly to the forest, she took a step forward and any thoughts to run were leeched out of her.
There was no trail for her to follow. Her bare feet crunching leaves and snapping twigs, though she felt known of it.
When she reached a clearing she drew in a breath. There was a small pond. It’s stillness was unnerving. Beside it was a long mirror, taller then her. Along the bottom there was a circle of flames.
She wished she could say that her clarity came back to her in that moment but it didn’t. She looked back the way she came and knew that she was so far into the forest that she wouldn’t be able to find her way out if she tried. She looked up towards the sky. The red, gold and brown leaves dancing with the cool breeze. The moon was fully in the sky now.
Without being aware of it she was moving towards the mirror, and even though her mind felt clear there was still apart of her that knew that looking into the mirror was dangerous. When she was fully in front of the mirror, she stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to look into it, instead her eyes remained on the flickering of the flames.
Look my dear, the mirror seemed to whisper, look at you will see what is meant to be.
The voice sounded ancient and rough, although the words were comforting. There was something compelling in its voice. It felt like the same thing that had drew her into the forest.
Look, it said and it felt as though something soft stroked her cheek.
She closed her eyes and let out an unsteady breath. Despite all the stories she had been told as a child, at the moment she couldn’t think of a reason as to why she should t look into the mirror.
Slowly, so slowly her eyes lifted and set on the image in the mirror. She fell to her knees at the sight. Looking back at her was a horned creature, it’s skin burned red and eyes wide and black.
She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. So when the creature lifted an arm up and brought it through the mirror to grasp her wrist, she didn’t fight it.
“Good, my dear,” The creature whispered in what sounded like her voice. The girl wanted to lift her hands to her throat but found she couldn’t. “Together we can do so much.”