Hugh J. O'Donnell

When the superhero lost his powers, he went to see his doctor.
“Your powers will return in time,” she reassured him.
“How soon”
The doctor shrugged. “Maybe four weeks? Why not take a holiday?
He took her advice, and jetted off to a tropical island.
But he was back in her office less than a week later, convinced he was dying.
“It’s just a sunburn,” she said. “Rub some calamine lotion on the burn and remember to wear a hat.”
“But my powers come from sunlight,” he said.
The hero’s powers came back, but he never got over the betrayal.

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His parents were murdered when he was a child, and the case was never solved.
Bereft, he made a vow to avenge their deaths. He was eight years old.
He dedicated his life to this single goal. He trained physically and mentally. He traveled the world, learning everything he could.
As a child, he’d believed their deaths to be a part of some grand conspiracy. In reality, it was just a crime of opportunity that went wrong. The systems that had set up the tragedy couldn’t be fought with fists.
But he’d made a vow, and would see it through.

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It never snowed in the city, but it had started an hour ago. The temperature had plunged, and the misty rain had frozen first into globs of wet slush, then into solid, fat snowflakes, the kind you see digitally added to Christmas specials.
He stood on the roof and watched it fall. The grime of the city was already disappearing beneath clean, white snow. The weather machine next to him was still operating at capacity.
Far below, tires squealed and metal scraped as overconfident drivers confronted their new reality.
The city was paralyzed. Phase one of the plan was complete.

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Every year, the islanders chose a maiden as the Seabride.
When I was chosen, I accepted the duty stoically. I didn’t want to be sacrificed, but it was a great honor. And had I refused, my family would have become outcasts. So I let them dress me in the veils and place me on the rock, and I waited for the inevitable.
A few hours later, a strange craft, round as a barrel, rose to the surface. A hatch opened, and I could see women inside. They all were the previous Seabrides.
“Get in loser,” one said. “We’re going home.”

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The fisherman rowed out to the little island, looking for a good place to cast his line. He was on vacation, and the little island, which he couldn’t find on the useless chart they’d given him at the tourist office, seemed perfect.
He left his boat on the shore and climbed up a verdant outcropping of round stone overlooking the bay. It was perfect.
When it started moving, he thought it was an earthquake. Then a massive head rose from the sand and looked at him. Before he could close his tackle box the giant turtle leaped into the sea.

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“Young lady, you will put your mask on this instant,” Mother said from the front seat. I could tell by her voice how angry she was.
Father turned around and looked at me.
“Honey, you know we need to wear them for protection, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” I sighed, and slipped the mask down over my face.
“That’s my girl. Now you stay here and keep the car running.”
My parents got out and went into the bank. I moved to the front seat and played with the radio. I always hated it when they brought me on their robberies.

The Half-Orc burst through the tavern door with a huge guitar slung over one shoulder.
“You play that thing or hit people with it?” The bartender asked.
“I’ve only ever needed to hit someone with it once,” she said with a laugh. “I’m Harmony Brokenstaff, and I’m a wandering bard like my father.
“You’re old Brokenstaff’s daughter? I heard he had been lost in the steppes.”
“In a way. He got a chieftain’s daughter in trouble and settled down. My sister Mel and I were born nine months later.”
“And Mel as in…?”
“Me’lnikroth the Defiler. She takes after Mom.”

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