Page 67 of The Not So Super Hero

Z ane’s Flashback

A single hit sent Zane hurtling to the floor.

He hit hard. Shock stung his muscles, but he didn’t freeze.

He rolled out of the way of Erica’s fist. Her powerful hit resulted in her fist getting stuck in rubble.

Shivering, she kept her gaze off Zane for a very good reason.

Though he didn’t want to do this, he understood the consequences if he didn’t.

Zane took her hesitation to grab her chin, forcing their gaze to meet.

Erica’s eyes widened. Then she screamed, dropping to the floor in a heap of whimpers. The battle ended in an instant.

“Fear, you could have finished that fight before it even started,” Leona said over the intercom. Zane glared at the tinted window on the other side of the arena. He hated that name. That’s why it stuck.

He couldn’t do more than flip them the bird, but it felt good to rebel in the smallest ways.

On the floor, Erica finally caught her breath.

She slid her fist from the wall and took Zane’s offered hand to help her onto her feet.

The two stood in the center of the arena, waiting for Law.

He inspected them, starting with Erica. A frown marred his face when he noticed how quickly Erica calmed down.

“You didn’t try too hard to stop her, did you?” Law asked, scribbling on his clipboard.

Zane kept a vacant expression. That was easier, a better way to survive. Better not give a reaction when others were waiting for it. He refused to give them what they wanted or, at least, tried his best not to.

Law pursed his lips. “She’s barely shaking now. You can do better.”

“I don’t torture people,” Zane countered.

“This is practice,” Law said with a smile, pushing Erica aside in dismissal.

She scurried off with the guards, exiting the arena without looking back.

The moment she was out of the room was the moment her mutation was put back into check.

Zane was never sure how Law created such annoying contraptions to allow mutations or not, but the guy was nuts in the best of ways for Rebirth.

Leona leaned against the opposite side of the arena, arms crossed and lips slipped into a sly smile. He glared at her, then returned his attention to Law.

“How are you going to reach your full potential if you never use your full strength? It’s a pity we’ve never seen you drop someone as easily as you did with Marceline,” Law said.

Zane contained a flinch, though his eye twitched. Years had passed, lost to him, but the wound felt fresh. Marceline’s memory remained, even if he never saw or heard from her again.

Law smirked. He knew which buttons to push and when.

“Tell me, how have you been feeling?” Law asked and held up that damn clipboard. “I’ve noticed your reactions during battle lately. It’s almost as if you know they’re coming.”

Zane bit the insides of his cheeks. Keeping information from Law was futile. He found the truth one way or the other, sometimes in a very painful way.

“Sometimes I do know,” he admitted.

“Fear is no longer the only thing you sense?” Law spoke in a pleased tone.

He skipped when Zane shook his head. “Excellent!

How long has this been going on? What is it like?

Are they visions like usual or sounds, actual words, feelings?

I must catalog—" And off the man went, rambling about nonsense.

Zane had no desire to tell Law anything, but there wasn’t choice at Raiffel.

After years here, he realized some battles aren’t worth fighting.

Besides, each day, his abilities frightened him a little more.

If anyone could help him control them, it was Law, even if he hated the very idea of it.

In the end, he sat through Law’s questions and examinations.

Law noted any minute change, including the ones that Zane could only tell him about. His abilities were multiplying.

In the beginning, Fear was his nickname because one look at a person and he knew their deepest fears.

Like flashes of memories in his head, sometimes he felt their pain, the suffering and he hated that.

However, some remained a mystery, such as Law, Leona, and Antoine.

He had seen nothing from them, as well as a few others from Rebirth. He couldn’t find out why.

Then Zane learned to control the darkness around him.

In the beginning, he summoned a heavy fog that wouldn’t listen.

Then that mist transformed into what he wished.

Next were the voices. Shouts of fear and horror that morphed.

Now, during battle or being around others, Zane made out their thoughts and feelings.

They were a radio he couldn’t turn out. Sometimes the static cut everything off, sometimes it was hard to hear, and others it was clear as day.

He hadn’t a clue how to turn it off. Some days, it felt like the volume was on max.

He could barely move thanks to the constant noise, others they were silent, and the silence was almost maddening.

Zane didn’t understand his powers. In the arenas or examination rooms, he’d stare at his hands like they held answers.

What was he capable of, and how? It felt like his powers had a mind of their own growing inside him each day.

That scared him, along with what Rebirth may have been learning from him.

What would they do with this knowledge? He wished he never had a mutation at all.

After Law’s examinations, Zane traveled to the cafeteria.

“So, how’d it go?” Isaiah asked when Zane sat down with a tray of whatever the hell the institution fed them. Isaiah smiled, regardless of his bruised face.

Raiffel allowed some socialization, such as lunch. However, armed guards surrounded the area, watching them like prisoners, and reminding them what happened if they tried to make a move.

“As expected,” Zane answered.

“You cocky son of a bitch.”

He elbowed Isaiah playfully, causing the boy to laugh.

He was about to curse him out too except a certain someone came sliding into the conversation.

Literally. Nate slid across the bench of their table until he sat before Zane with a beaming smile.

Natalia made a less grand entrance and sat like a normal person.

“Hey Mini,” Isaiah said to Nate, who didn’t at all care about the nickname, then looked to Natalia. “Natalia.”

Natalia nodded. Nate kept his attention on Zane, staring like he was the coolest thing in the world.

That very look was why Zane didn’t cuss, because he discovered Nate copied everything he did.

Isaiah thought it was the cutest damn thing.

Zane felt this urge to keep himself as PG as possible because he was not going to be the cause of Nate having a potty mouth.

“Are you ok?” Natalia asked, gesturing to Isaiah’s bruised face.

“Oh, this?” Isaiah gestured towards his wounds. “I might have kneed one of the guards in the nuts. Let’s just say he wasn’t pleased about it. It shouldn’t have even hurt that bad. Judging by the hit, I think it’s safe to say there wasn’t much there.”

Natalia laughed. “Why did you do that?”

“I need a reason?”

Natalia snorted while Nate snickered. Then Nate saw Zane rolling his eyes and swiftly mimicked him.

Isaiah elbowed Zane for it too, since everyone realized what Nate was doing.

Some of their best memories at Raiffel happened in the cafeteria.

It was one of the few times they associated outside of their roommates in a manner that lacked violence.

Though the time was short, everyone appreciated that breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, they were often reminded, even during their time of peace, that they were never truly safe.

A loud cry echoed throughout the cafeteria. Everyone’s gaze landed on the young boy being kicked ruthlessly by one of the guards. An eerie silence fell over the room, save for the cries coming from the shivering child, but the silence didn’t last long.

Zane stormed across the room. He threw his weight at the guard, ramming him against the wall.

The loud thunk awakened others from their trance.

Then all hell broke loose. The guards’ guns went off, bombarding the room with pellets.

Zane’s skin bumped and bruised, though that didn’t stop him from slamming his fists into the face of that bastard guard.

Nate lunged to his feet, going after one guard heading for Zane.

Isaiah and Natalia jumped the others. A riot had broken out that lasted all of a few seconds before an ear-splitting scream split the room.

Everyone, save for the guards, dropped to the floor, clutching their pounding heads.

The sound grew higher and higher in tone, then disappeared as fast as it appeared.

“Fear!” Benson, the owner of that annoying mutation and one of the absolute worst officers there, called. To say he had it out for Zane would be an understatement, but considering how much trouble Zane made, it wasn’t surprising.

Zane stood, head pounding thanks to the horrendous noise Benson made. Sound was his mutation, controlling the pitch whether it to be high or low, where it was, what he could hear, and it was a pain for a multitude of reasons.

“Getting into trouble again, are we?” Benson inquired, standing in front of Zane. He had no issue glaring at the scum of the earth.

“I wouldn’t be if your men didn’t start shit,” he replied, smirking.

Benson grabbed him by the collar, pulling him forward while he spoke in a low growl, “Just because you’re Antoine’s son and I can’t kill you, don’t think for a second that I won’t make you wish that I did.”

Being the mature man that he was, he spat on Benson.

That wasn’t his best idea. He was hauled off to be taken to solitary, which was another thing that wasn’t unusual.