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What Are Heroes Anyway? free porn video
What Are Heroes Anyway?
By Cassy Bee.
Synopsis: Silvio lives in a dystopian future. The supervillains have won
thirty years ago and shaped this dreadful new reality he lives in. But
there is one hope for Silvio and others like him. The spark of the
Phoenix. A fragment of the soul of the last heroine to fall. Embrace it
and one can gain her power and fight back. When Silvio finds one he has
to learn that the spark isn't what he had thought it was and that maybe
his view on what makes a hero was wrong too.
*****
Silvio ran for his life through the narrow corridors between the stacked
containers of depot forty-three of East Dallas. Heard the hounds making
a ruckus behind him. Knew that they already had his scent. He glanced
behind himself, but he couldn't see them yet. A good sign because if he
could see them then he was a dead boy running.
The wall was close. His makeshift rope still hanging over the ledge.
With a running jump, he caught it and climbed as fast as he dared. By
the time he landed on the other side his breathing was ragged and
needles of pain poked through his lungs. Still, he couldn't stop now. It
wasn't safe yet.
He forced himself into a jog - painful as it was - and darted into the
sprawling slums of East Dallas. Past shelters cobbled together with
trash and dirt. Cut through narrow passages and ran over faulty rotten
wooden planks of equally rotten huts.
He heard the hounds and the roar of vehicles too late. Just as he
crossed through a big clearing in the slums they found him. Gasping for
his breath he stopped. It was no use. In moments they had him
surrounded. There was no call to give up from them. Just as they would
be no mercy. They would take what he had stolen and then the police
would kill him. It was simple like that. Silvio had seen it a hundred
times before. All that was left to close his eyes and hope his death
would be without much pain.
"Shit. That maniac again!"
The shouting and a string of curses made Silvio's eyes snap open. Just
in time to see a young woman in torn clothes ran onto the square with a
howling battle-cry born in madness.
He saw the police sling their rifles and pull batons out. "Beat her.
Maker her suffer. Don't kill her," the squad's leader ordered.
With their intention on the charging woman, Silvio took his cue and ran
as fast as his fatigued body could manage.
It was a shame really. To be rescued by Ella Ritter. That good for
nothing wannabe hero of a hooligan. She had the spark of the Phoenix and
what did she do with it? Instead of fighting the big villains that ruled
the dystopian nightmare of Silvio's reality she picked fights with the
police. And that was she did with her gift. The spark of the Phoenix was
wasted on her. Of that Silvio was sure.
Grumbling to himself Silvio made his way home. Not even once he glanced
back. He knew what would happen. Ella would put up a fight till the
police would overwhelm her. Beat her to the brink of death and leave her
in the gutters of the streets. Then the spark would heal her. Mend
broken bones and mend the torn skin and organs. Then, an hour later, she
will stand up and look for the next fight to pick.
Just why had the spark of the Phoenix picked her? It was a question
Silvio had to ask himself many times. She was just a masochistic brawler
always looking for her next fight. It seemed so unfair.
After making sure no one had followed him, Silvio ducked into one of the
ramshackle huts that were just like every other in the slums with one
difference. In it he found his mother lying on the makeshift bed.
Her fever hadn't broken yet and it worried Silvio to no end. With haste,
he dug into his small backpack and fished for the small pill bottle he
had stolen. Ibuprofen. Silvio wasn't sure what that medicine did, but he
hoped it would help his mother recover. He gave her two pills and forced
her to swallow it with the dirty liquid one might call water. If that
someone was very generous.
The rest of the pills vanished with a few stolen food rations in their
secret hiding place. Only then he allowed himself to lay down as well.
Exhaustion took over and sleep caught up to him fast.
*****
Silvio bit back the curse that was on his lips. He hadn't gotten one of
the labor spots for the factory again. Another day without the meager
income the job could provide. At least his mother felt a little better.
For now, that had to count for something, but he knew tomorrow or the
day after he needed to get a spot in the factory. Even if it meant
showing up even earlier in the morning.
Lost in his misery he wandered aimlessly through the slums till shouting
made him look up. It was close and he didn't have to go far to peek
around a corner to see the commotion. Ella Ritter again. Brawling with
the police. Sighing Silvio shook his head and walked away.
There were other jobs than the factory. Less legal ones, but out here in
the slums that didn't matter much. Silvio was cutting trough a part of
the slums that had seen better days - those when the ramshackle huts
hadn't burned down - when he saw a flickering. At first, he ignored it,
but as it caught his eyes he got curious.
Probably some trash burning he thought till he rounded a corner. There
it was. Something he had dreamed of finding since his earliest
childhood. A spark of the Phoenix. It was a flame floating in the air
about the height of his chest with myriads of sparks of lightning
dancing within. It was as if it was calling out to him. Begging Silvio
to reach out with his hand and take the spark for his own. Still, he
hesitated.
The spark was really what everyone said. Part of the Phoenix. She had
been the last Superhero. When all others had died or succumbed to the
new evil overloads she had kept fighting. Streaking through the sky and
burning henchmen and villains alike. She had been unstoppable.
Literally, as she would always be reborn if she died. For a while, it
looked like she might actually win. Then the tragedy happened. A devious
gadget hitting her, that not only burst her body apart but her very soul
too.
What was left of her soul was scattered all over the world and Silvio
stood now before a fragment of the legendary last hero. He could take
it. Fuse with it and gain her power. Then he wouldn't be as helpless to
the oppressors as he was now. Yes. Silvio had decided. He would take the
spark for his own and show everyone that there are still heroes around.
Might even show Ella Ritter how someone could really use the power for
good instead of using it to brawl.
Once again he reached out and this time he grasped the fire. It quickly
roared to life and enveloped. Silvio wasn't scared. Even when darkness
claimed him as he fainted.
*****
Silvio groaned as he woke up. The very sound strange to his ears. As he
opened his eyes he saw the one thing he wanted to see less than the
police.
"Good morning sleepy-head. And I guess welcome to the army of the
Phoenix," Ella Ritter greeted him. Sitting on an empty turned over crate
nearby and gave him a cheery grin.
"Fuck you Ella and ..." Silvio stopped. Something was wrong with his
voice and he reached for his throat.
"Let me guess. You used to be a boy?"
Used to be was correct as Silvio stared down on a body not his own. Or
rather one that hadn't been his, but now it was. For a few heartbeats,
he could nothing but stare down the ash-covered body and the curves that
looked so very alien to him from this perspective.
"How..." he started, but his voice gave out.
"Isn't it obvious?" Ella asked. "Those who touch the Phoenix's spark
take on aspects of the original Phoenix. And SHE gives out more than
just her powers."
"Glad this amuses you," an annoyed Silvio shot back while standing up.
"Why are you even here."
"To welcome to the fight ... and I guess to womanhood." Seeing his glare
she quickly continued. "Also I thought you might want some clothes. No
one ever strips before fusing with a spark."
Silvio was well aware how right she was. His clothes probably part of
the nest of ash below him. "Thanks. Didn't know that you cared about
anything besides picking fights with the police."
"So you know about me..."
"Everyone does," Silvio snapped.
"... and I don't know anything about you. What is your name?"
"Silvio."
"Don't think so. Try again."
"Silvio Copello"
"Worse! For one thing, you are a girl now and on the other hand never
reveal your last name," Ella chided him. "Look down on your right arm."
Silvio did and saw something red poking through the dirt sticking to his
arm. After rubbing it away a bright red tattoo revealed itself in the
form of a stylized flame.
"The police hunts everyone with the spark of the Phoenix. One can handle
that or not. Worse is that they hunt everyone who is dear to you. Give
out your true name and your friends and family will suffer. Now, what is
your name?"
As much as he hated to admit it. Thinking of his mother Silvio knew she
was right. He couldn't bear making her suffer for his choices. "I'll
have to think about that," he admitted.
"Good. You do that. For now, take this." She threw him a coverall that
clearly had seen better days. "Find me once you are ready for me to
teach you." Then she got up and started to walk away.
"Teach me? All you can do is brawl!" Silvio shouted after her.
Ella only turned around to give him a short cheery grin before heading
out.
*****
Violet cursed the very fact that Ella was right. From far away she spied
on her mother's little shack. She didn't dare to get closer. No one knew
yet that she had a spark, but just to be safe she came up with a new
name. Or rather an old one. Her mother always had told Silvio that if he
had been born a girl she would have named him Violet.
Violet didn't like her name that much, but it was something to remind
her of her mother. It was something she always could take with her and
no one would be the wiser.
With a sigh, she turned around and headed back to the outskirts of the
slums where she conducted her training. One that so far proofed to be
miserable. Flying eluded her as much as throwing fireballs. She not even
managed to summon the flame aura the original Phoenix had been known
for. After three days she had nothing to show for.
Maybe something was missing. Like a teacher. Violet scrounged her face.
No way she would ask Ella. How could she teach Violet something she
couldn't do herself?
She was pulled from her self-pity when loud shouts and sirens broke the
silence around her. People rushed past her and her old instinct nearly
made herself go with them.
Then she saw the mother and her child downward the street. They must be
the intended target as the police slowly surrounded them. Violet
clenched her fists. Injustice like this had made her want to become a
bearer of the Phoenix spark. Now she was one and still, she was
helpless. Nothing had changed. She had given her male body for nothing.
No skill or ability had revealed itself.
Fighting them was madness. She knew that. She couldn't possibly win. Not
in a million years. Still, she made a step towards the mother and child.
Then another. She couldn't win, but maybe, just maybe, she could buy
them enough time. Her legs felt into a jog and then full on run.
A scream as mad as the dash she made escaped her lips. Heads turned and
before the police could react Violet jumped and struck down one by
punching his riot helmet.
She was as baffled as them as the guy actually crumbled down. She hadn't
punched that hard, right? Or she had more strength than before. That
must be it she reasoned. It gave her a fighting chance. A small one, but
one she intended to take.
She jumped the next guy and everything around her turned to chaos.
Violet punched and kicked every weak point she saw. Now and then she was
rewarded with a satisfying crunch as an arm or leg gave in and a
policeman howled in pain.
The advantage of her surprise attack didn't last long. The men fanned
out and Violet had a harder time to engage them all. With the sudden
chaos gone the men turned smart. Those before her got defensive while
those behind her now attacked.
Pain flared as she heard the crunch of one of her ribs breaking. Still,
she fought on. Pain be damned and all. She managed to knock out another
one but found her left leg gave out as a vicious kick brought her down.
Before she could react a baton smashed her face hard and all she could
see for a moment was stars.
Violet knew this was it. This was as far as she would come. She managed
a glance around before a kick into her chest robbed her of her breath.
Three police officers lay on the ground unmoving and she saw five more
clutching some extremity. No sight of the woman or her child. At least
she managed to get them safe.
Another kick rolled her onto her back. One eye had a hard time staying
open as blood flowed into it. The other saw the hard and angry faces of
her foes. One of them drew a pistol. Violet grinned. Stupid police. She
wouldn't have come half as far if they had pulled one at the start.
"Now you die bitch," the man with the gun said. He aimed at her head and
she looked down the barrel. Two lives for her own. It wasn't much, but
at least it was something.
"Wait!" another man shouted and grabbed the gun to push it aside. Mercy?
From her enemies? Violet couldn't believe it. "Check her arm first."
One man crouched down to check by pulling up the sleeve of her overall.
It was his last mistake. Violet pulled her last strength together and
punched him in the throat. Gasping he pulled away and clawed at his own
crushed windpipe. A moment later he ceased to move at all.
"Shit. Frank. And she is a Phoenix. What a clusterfuck."
"Can't be helped. Break every bone she got as long as it won't kill her.
Give her so much pain she will regret ever touching that spark!"
And hurt her they did. A flurry of kick broke what felt like every bone
in her body. It was relentless torture till Violet would have begged for
mercy if she still could. Then they left. Leaving her as a bloody pile
of skin and bones at the side of the road.
*****
Time crawled when you suffered immeasurable pain. Violet felt it all.
The broken bones and bruises, the cuts and scrapes, and steady dripping
of her blood escaping her body.
She suffered through it all. Hoping, no praying, she would die soon. But
the end didn't come. Only slowly her pain faded away and her breathing
got less ragged and deeper. By dawn, she managed to pull her body up and
against a wall with her arm she was sure had been broken. More than
once.
"Not bad for your first fight," Ella remarked as she let herself fall
down beside Violet. "Killed one, knocked out three and injured a bunch
more. At least that is word out in the streets. You might want to go
easy on the killing though."
Violet didn't answer. She didn't trust herself to manage that. Each
breath still hurt like a bitch.
"Don't worry," Ella continued. "With time it becomes less painful and
you regenerate faster."
"Fuck you!" Violet managed to press out. " 'am nothing like you..."
"Are you sure? Looked like a brawl to me."
"Couldn't... do more," Violet admitted through gritted teeth.
"Right! You are a newbie. How could I forget? You need a teacher," Ella
told her.
"Not... you..."
"Not me? Well, how about another spark then? There are three others in
this area."
That was news to Violet. All she had heard was of Ella. Faintly she
nodded.
"Okay... Hmm. Julia Lowe lives near the bombed-out gas station. Sharron
Snow on the south side of the Barrens and Iria Neves a dash north of the
old tool factory. Hope that helps. If not then you can always find me."
With that being said she stood up and walked away. Leaving Violet with
her thoughts and pain.
*****
By the next morning, Violet was up and about. No injury was left. Not
even a scar. That must be the regeneration Ella had talked about.
Clearly, she knew things Violet didn't, but she would be damned to go to
her for help.
It took her a few hours, but she found the gas station. Then Julia Lowe.
It was a meager woman. Worn out and only skin and bones.
"Are you Julia?" Violet asked. With fearful eyes, she nodded. "I am a
spark and ..."
"Out!" the woman screamed. Pushing Violet feebly with weak arms. That
wasn't what made Violet comply. It was the sheer terror in the woman's
eyes. The ramshackle door slammed into Violet's face. Her last glance on
a spindly arm with a faded tattoo on it.
Shocked about the reaction Violet turned away. There were two others.
Maybe they could help her.
*****
"Look what the cat dragged by," Ella greeted Violet as she walked over.
"The names you gave me ... They were sparks alright. But they can't
teach anything. They are scared out of their wits. They're ...
worthless. And you knew!"
"Of course they are. They have given up fighting."
"Argh! I asked for teacher and you ..." Violet broke off and shook her
head in anger. "What were they supposed to teach me?"
"The biggest lesson of all. This is what happens to sparks who give up.
Their fighting spirit was broken."
"What's that supposed to mean? I never get a straight answer out of you,
do I?"
"You want straight answers?" Ella gave her a grin. "Go ahead ask, but
make sure you ask the right questions."
Violet fell silent for a moment. Gathering her thoughts. "I am a spark
and yet I can't ..."
"Fly? Shoot fireballs? Cloud yourself in flames?" When Violet nodded
Ella continued. "Because you haven't died enough. Wait! Straight
answers. I remember. When the Phoenix - the original Phoenix - started
out she didn't have any of that. All she had was her fighting spirit.
Everything else originates from it. Heightened strength. Fast
regeneration. The refusal to stay down even if she got killed. You think
she got some dominion over fire? All that are physical manifestations of
her will to fight."
Violet needed a moment to stomach the news. This was far from what she
had heard before or had expected. "So all I can ... we can ... do is to
brawl? What is the point?"
"The point? Besides fighting evil? We grow. With each passing year,
there are more sparks. This fight has been going on a long time. Both
sides know their opponent's strength and weaknesses."
"Great. So we slowly grow in strength. Is that it? To win in a few
decades? I doubt we make it so far. Those villains in their ebony towers
probably lose patients long before then and kill us all off," Violet
concluded.
In the distance, she saw a dust cloud drifting off from one of the
police compounds. Someone was in trouble again she concluded.
"We are long past that point," Ella corrected her. "Despite how young I
look I have been in this fight for over twenty years. Back then the
police didn't hesitate to shoot into a crowd of rioters or sparks. They
quickly found out that it was a bad idea to kill a spark. We come back
to life better, stronger and more pissed off. Nowadays they are scared
to hand out guns to their patrols because they might shoot a spark. That
is one of the changes we made happen."
Violet tracked the dust cloud with her eyes. Two vehicles she concluded
by the size of it. "Why not capture us or so?"
"Ever see a spark punch through a steel door? Because yes we can. Might
take some time, but we punch through and then they have a spark right
inside their base. Bad news for them. No. The only way they can stop a
spark is by breaking their will to fight. That's why they kick us to the
brink of death. Hoping we get their hint."
"And we sparks fight them to raise our fighting spirit and for the hope
they kill us?" Violet wanted to know.
"It is a little bit more," Ella admitted. "Our goal is to take out the
enemy forces. Break a leg or arm. That stuff. Not killing though. They
would just recruit new ones. You see every policeman in the hospital
drains their resources for weeks or month while we ... well, you noticed
how fast we heal. Believe me, we are far from a stalemate, but it comes
at a price."
"Pain," Violet threw in as she watched the police convoy split. Probably
to cut off someone's escape route.
"Yes. For some, it is too much to handle. So now you know. So what about
you?"
"Violet."
"What?"
"You once told me to get a new name. It is Violet."
"Well, then Violet. Being a spark or hide for your the rest of your
life. What do you choose?"
Violet turned around with a grin and said "Left." She took off running
before Ella could shake her confusion. It felt good to leave her with a
cryptic answer for once. She grinned the whole time it took her to catch
up to the vehicle that had split up to the left on the horizon.
With a mighty roar, she threw herself into the side of the big truck and
it actually veered to the side and crashed. Angry policemen climbed out
and Violet was ready. This wasn't how she had envisioned it would be to
be a spark. Nor was it the kind of hero she hoped to be.
But in this day and age what did it even mean to be a hero? Violet
didn't know anymore. All she knew that she had now the means to change
something. Even if it was little and through pain. She would fight for
those who couldn't.
The end.
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