I Want to Be a Hero
 

As I put the reflective mask/helmet on I was reminded of the shows like Power Rangers I had watched as a kid. I had always looked up to heroes, and had always wanted to be one. Then, as a teenager, I had gone through my angsty, angry faze, and had wanted to be a villain because they were so cool and dark and mysterious. Later, I wanted to be an anti-hero. I would do the right things, but I was cooler because I was dark, edgy, and seemed not to care. Now I was back where I had started, wanting to be a regular hero, but this time actually doing it.

Of all my costume, designing the helmet had been the hardest part. I'd wanted it to be silver with a black reflective part over the face, but drawing something on a piece of paper and actually building it are so far removed that I almost gave up. Eventually, I was able to make the helmet. I could see through it and nobody could see my face. The rest of my costume consisted of a full black wetsuit that I had put some metal plates in over the chest and stomach area, as well as the shins and back. I wanted as much protection as I could get without drastically affecting my movement. The outfit was concluded with a black pair of steel toed boots. If I had been rich, or super smart, this ordeal would have been nothing, but I am neither of those, and making my superhero costume took several months. It was another month before I'd get a chance to use it.

There was a hostage situation at the Ace Lenders Bank on 32nd Street, with three armed men threatening to kill everyone if the cops took even one step too close. The men had obviously been planning this for while because they knew how to keep out of sight of any possible snipers. The strange thing was they had no demands. The general consensus was that they were just trying to bide time until they had their getaway ready. None of that mattered to me. I donned my costume, grabbing a four foot wooden staff before leaving and ran to the scene as quick as I could. I couldn't afford to have people knowing who I was by running the license plate on my car, and as I have already explained that I'm not exactly rich, so I can't afford a save-the-day car. Luckily, the bank was close.

When I arrived, and even on the way, I got many strange looks and almost as many laughs. I pretended not to notice and wrote it off as them not used to seeing a superhero. I approached the police chief. He was a short, tubby, red-headed fellow with a bushy beard, and seemed to be chief among the laughers.

"I'm here to help Officer Dane," I said in my most heroic voice. Apparently this was even more comedic than my appearance because he broke out in even more laughter. Eventually he did calm down enough to tell me, "Go home, son. I don't know where you got this idea, but even if you did stand a chance, they'd shoot the hostages before you could take a step inside."

"But..."

"Go home."

"But I made this costume and everything."

"You did an excellent job, but leave this to the professionals."

I started to walk away. He was right. Who was I kidding? I'm no hero. Heroes are strictly comic book affair. I was just Stan Phillips, a balding, divorced accountant and that's all I'd ever be. Hell, I didn't even have a superhero name yet. It was a waste of time, and a risk of my head. My ex-wife was right. I'd never amount to anything. Nobody needs me.

"Hey! Wait!" Officer Dane stopped me as I walked away.

"What do you want now? Want to make fun of me some more?"

"Actually, I have a way you can help."

"Huh?"

It was then that Dane explained his idea to me. He was a nice guy, and the police were understaffed. They needed someone they could send in as a hostage. They could wire me, send me in, and find out what those men were planning. I agreed, but I had to make one solemn promise.

"I solemnly swear that under no circumstances will I try to save the day or otherwise be heroic. Furthermore, I will do nothing to endanger my life or the lives of my fellow hostages, so help me God."

"Can I expect you to keep your promise?"

"Yes, sir!"

Stay tuned for the next thrilling chapter!

*Dun dun dun* STAAAAN PHILLIPS *Dun dun dun duuuuun!*

I like this guy already.

"Can I get you take at least take of your mask before I send you in? Please."

"A hero never reveals his true identity... usually."

"Ugh... Fine, but don't come crying to me if your costume gets ruined."

He didn't see it, but I smiled. I was having witty banter with a police chief, just like a real superhero. I was so happy. He picked up a megaphone and spoke to the robbers.

"-WE WOULD LIKE TO SEND IN A NEGOTIATOR. HOWEVER PLEASE NOTE THAT HE LOOKS A LITTLE... SILLY.-"

"We won't turn down an extra hostage!" called back one of the robbers, laughing.

"Well son, go on in."

I nodded, and walked towards the bank in the most dramatic way I could, which I'm sure was quite impressive. When I arrived at the glass double doors of the bank, a man with gray hair and blue eyes stepped forward, stifled a laugh, and grabbed me, holding a gun to my head and using me as a shield as he stepped backwards inside. The gun was a large handgun, though the make and caliber elude me. Once we wear inside, he threw me to the ground and pulled my staff from me. I sat up and looked around, surveying my arena. There were six people on the ground, the other two robbers were nowhere in sight.

"Where are your friends?" I asked, masking my fear. My suit would hurt someone who tried to punch me, but a bullet not so much. Upon closer inspection, my new "friend" didn't seem the robber type. He wore a navy blue long-sleeved shirt and tan pants. His shoes were shiny. He didn't look crazy rich, but he didn't seem poor, or like how I expected a robber to dress. He put the gun to my mask and laughed.

"Six feet under. Or more accurately, dead in the bank vault. My turn. Why are you dressed like that?"

"Because I'm a superhero."

"Ah! Ahahaha! That's great kid! Your turn."

"Huh?"

"You amuse me, ask another question. If it's a good one, I won't kill you."

"Why are you robbing this place?"

"Wrong question. Do you see any money on me? Ask any of our fine guests, and they'll all tell you the same thing. I haven't taken a dime."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Nuh-uh, not your turn. What's your superhero name?"

"...Uh... I don't have one yet."

"That's awful. You should come up with one, so I can tell my grandkids about my epic battle."

"What do you think it should be?"

"That counts as your question. How about Dark Blade or something?"

"That counts as your question. Wouldn't work. I don't use a sword, and I won't either, I don't like to kill people."

"Good point, I don't like to kill people either."

"Then why'd you kill your friends?"

"Didn't. One shot the other, and the other one pulled off a shot while he was bleeding. I just didn't help them."

"Oh... It's your turn."

"Meh, I'm out of questions. Ask another."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm a distraction."

"From what?"

"Dunno. Someone gave me a million dollars and my 'friends' and told me to create a distraction."

"Why'd you agree?"

"I have cancer. I've refused treatment. It'd just prolong the inevitable. I figured, I might as well go out in style, plus my kids could really use that million bucks."

"Wow."

"What?"

"I like you."

"Thanks, I like you too, son."

"Sorry."

"For what?"

I punched him. I felt slightly guilty, punching an old man, but that old man had held a gun to my head, and, as kind and interesting as he was, that just don't fly. He pulled off a shot, and I could tell he wasn't used to shooting guns, because he missed by a mile, hitting the ceiling. I hurried and grabbed my staff and knocked the gun out of his hand, the slammed the based of it into his face, breaking his nose and making my conscience more furious with me. As he bled and cursed the hostages began to run out and the police began to run in. Among those police was Dane.

"You jerk. You broke your promise."

"Couldn't help myself, sorry."

"Don't be. As stupid and reckless as it was, and as stupid as you look, you did a good thing."

"What do you think that distraction was for?"

"Not a clue."

Then we heard an explosion. A big one.

In particular I like the fact that absolutely nobody takes him seriously.

Two things I take issue with are A - the lack of descriptors in the longer dialog. It could work for a script where the actors themselves can do their own thing to bring life to the conversation, but I think it could use some more oomph.

B - The fact that they actually sent him in. Really, of all the people to send in as a negotiator, I don't think grabbing the guy who just walked up and said, hey, I'm a superhero, I'll take care of it, is the best idea. Making him promise to not do anything stupid was like, well, yeah he's going to do something heroic. That was the point. However I like where it's going enough that the single detail like that got lost in the long run.

I noticed I've been kinda slacking on the description, and as for point B, that was kinda forced I'll admit. I was debating between that and having him just run in, which I might change it to. This is really the first draft, so upon second and third revisions it should improve and make more sense.

I like it as well. I don't really have many more things to say than Mirai did, but I noticed a few english-type errors, such as a missing period.

When I say the explosion was large, I don't mean that in any general sense. The explosion wasn't large in the same way that say, a fat person is large, or a semi is large. This explosion was large in the sense that it happened a mile away and still managed to blow the windows of the bank to tiny jagged pieces from the shockwave. That was before the cloud of smoke and ash flew in, effectively coating everyone and temporarily blinding many. Many people suffer some cuts from the window shrapnel and I couldn't see a thing so much dirt had coated my mask.

Coughing, I tried to calm down and wipe the dirt from my mask, but it seemed that no matter how much dirt I cleaned off, more coated in. Eventually I did manage to clean it enough that I could actually see where I was going, and wished I was back to blindness. A lot of people were on the ground, injured from the blast. Some had been knocked over from it and had palmed the broken glass when they tried to stand. Thanks to my suit, I had managed to escape largely unharmed, my suit suffering the damage that many people's skin had.

"Dane! Dane! Where are you?" I called out and was greeted with a groan. I found him on the ground, his head bleeding. I rushed to his side and tried to sit him up. "Are you okay?" I asked my new friend in the force.

"I'll be fine. What happened?"

"There was an explosion."

"Yeah, I can tell. How is everyone?"

"Hurt, but I think they'll be okay."

"What was that explosion?"

"I can't tell, there's too much dust. I'm gonna go see what happened, you wait here."

"Like I have a choice." I laughed. As I walked away, Dane called out to me, "Hey! Captain Stupid! Be careful, or I'll kick your ass." I nodded.



I'm not sure if you guys liked this part as much, as the tone changed to a bit more serious one. It'll get back to the sillyness, but I'm trying to balance the two. Anyway, if you guys think I should changed something, I'm open to ideas.

I think that you should slowly go more and more serious, but try to keep it a little silly like some little moments like a guard that guy beat up sees him for the second time trying to hide stares at him for a second then says no one is where he is hiding or something.

The villan should not be like anything in the comics He needs to be real try to give him a personality that makes alot of people hate him or make him a guy that you can link to

Agreed. Joss Whedon makes things go this way in almost everything he does and I am a huge fan of mixing comedy and drama.

I won't be introducing the main villain for a while, but I am going to introduce a villain next update. He amuses me. Quick question, should I try and keep it low on language, or should I just allow swearing if it fits the way the character talks, because this villain is gonna drop the f-bomb a few times if I let him.