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Gerard's POV. I walked up the familiar cracked footpath

It Begins...

I walked up the familiar cracked footpath. I was late. But that wasn't new for me. I could easily blame public transport or a traffic jam, except for the fact that I only live around the corner from where I work. Believe me, I get up early enough for work. It's just that New York City crime doesn't stop for anyone. Which is why I'm always late.

You're probably thinking, why does New York's crime rate effect the time that I arrive at work? Well, I help fight it. No, I'm not a policeman. I'm not a night security guard. I'm a superhero.

By day, I'm Gerard, the loser who designs and traces tattoos in a tattoo parlor. No one at work really likes --

"You're late. Again," my manager, Frank yelled at me, before dumping a whole bunch of pictures on my desk. "Do all of this by lunch. And I don't want any scorch marks on it this time!" he ordered angrily.

As I was saying, no one at work likes me. I try my hardest. But there are some issues that they just don't like. For instance, I seem to have pyrotechnical faults which tend to result in a lot of my work bursting into flames. Of course, no one at work knows about my super powers, so the fact that I can set things on fire when I get angry is unbeknown to them. They think I've got a fire fetish or something. They're always taking the piss out of me for it. But enough about my mundane day-time life.

When I was young, there was a toxic explosion in New Jersey. The explosion was far enough from where I was to not have me killed, but not far enough to stop me from being exposed from it. As a result, I was in hospital for two weeks. Doctors ran all sorts of tests, but couldn't find anything wrong with me. It wasn't until a few years after the explosion that I figured out I had superpowers.

I first found out something was weird when I was in junior high. I was picked on - I was called the fat kid. The other kids would point and laugh at me when I sat in the cafeteria with my tray of food. I wished that I could be invisible. I got my wish.

At first, I thought I was seeing things. I could just close my eyes, wish that I was invisible and TADA! I was invisible. It came really handy during lunch time and during any other time that I felt uncomfortable.

Anyway, the following year, I found myself getting beaten up a lot at school. I would get so angry on my way home from school after getting jumped by about 5 older guys that I'd accidentally set things on fire. At first, I thought maybe it wasn't me. But then one day during the summer holidays, I set fire to my neighbor's trashcans. I was in an argument with my Mom about how my hairdryer and shit was always strewn all over the place in the bathroom. It wasn't my fault that I was a gay boy who liked to have nice hair. After the fight I went outside, and angrily pointed my hand at the neighbor's garbage, making it explode and burst into flames. The fire can be a good thing and a bad thing. Sometimes, it pisses me off because I'll be working really hard on a work of art, and then some dumbass will make me mad and my artwork will catch on fire. It's the reason why I was fired from two comic book design companies. My work would always catch on fire. But on the other hand, at least I don't have to fish through my bag to find a lighter when I want a cigarette. I can just snap my fingers and a flame appears out the tip of my index finger.

So those aren't the only powers I have. There's one more. I discovered this one at the end of high school when I was ecstatic to be out of there. I got so happy that I began to hover off the ground. I kept thinking happy thoughts and I found myself getting higher and higher. Soon enough, I found out I could fly. My powers are partly emotionally controlled if you haven't gathered. But I have learned how to use them well. No one in my personal life except my brother knows that I have these powers.

As I mentioned before, I use those powers to fight crime at night. I go by the name of "The Dark Ninja". I know, it's not a very original name, but I actually didn't give myself the name. The NYC media came up with it because of my costume that I wear. I'm often in their newspapers, whether it's in their news section or their gossip section. But when I fight at night, I'm not alone. I have a partner I work with.

"The Skeleton" as he's known by is another superhero. He has his own set of super powers. He's super fast, super strong and super flexible. We work together every night to fight crime. We don't work together in the morning. I guess The Skeleton has a job which requires him to be at work early. The Skeleton and I don't know one another's true identities. But I can't help but say that he is so sexy and flirtatious. I look forward to work finishing just so that I can hang out with him. He's my only friend. He's the only person other than my brother that gets me. After we've finished fighting crime, we always talk about anything and everything. I know for a fact that he's gay too. He was also exposed to the toxic explosion from Jersey where he also grew up. He wears an outfit that covers his whole body. It's a black lycra costume spray painted with bones to look like a skeleton, with gloves and big combat boots. He has a really cool skull-shaped mask. He built in a crotch zip to the bottom half of his costume so that he can still pee and wank while in his suit. He told me that he has too many tattoos and needs to cover them all up so that no one will recognize him based on his tattoos. What I'd give to see those tattoos. But the talk of us unmasking and revealing our true identities has never come up.

As lunch rolled around, I managed to have all of my work finished and scorch free. I handed the pile of stuff to Frank who glared at me and told me to hurry up and have lunch. That guy is such a douche. But he's the only one who will employ me.


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