I stayed in the belfry when I did stakeouts. 

It was a small and dark room, but that didn't matter because it served it's purpose well. 

There was a desk with a pile of clothes, colorful action figures, and a police scanner radio being unusually quiet. I sat beside the desk on a rickety wooden chair from the church below, covered almost completely in shadow sitting on a wooden chair. With an electric guitar in my grip, posture bobbing up and down, neck gently swinging side to side. Gloved fingers run through the strings of the instrument, dancing their way on each note as it bounced from ancient stone walls.

I get these horrible thoughts at times.

And the noise of everything.

The smell.

It suffocated me.

My fingers pressed down on the cords. Plucking and dragging the notes, making the instrument whine and howl in delightful anguish. The kind of noise that was synonymous with catharsis. People always asked me to play something pretty, but the truth is I don't see myself as pretty.

I could make my own noise.

My own chaos.

My own freedom.

Though, I'd rather not make my own smell.

Suddenly, the radio finally sprang to life, fizzing out information that made my ears shoot up.

“WE HAVE A 10-31 AT HENDERSON STREET, HERO BANK OF AMERICA….”

My ears perked up.

“MULTIPLE SUSPECTS ON THE SCENE, VILLAIN SIGHTINGS HAVE BEEN CONFIRMED, REQUESTING ANY UNOCCUPIED UNITS….”

A burst of energy courses through my veins, placing my guitar down against the desk. I pulled from the pile of clothes my costume, sliding into it one limb at a time as fast as I could. It was made of cotton and it was mostly pink with white and black to compliment. The stitching gave it an unintentional patchwork design on account of all the mileage I’ve gotten out of it this past year. Then came the gloves and these shin guards which protected my legs for sure, but my costume not so much. And finally my mask. It covered my entire head with the front opening stitched shut and lenses for my eyes and of course the bunny ears, which were just pieces of cloth with metal wires in them. 

I zoomed across the room, up the spiraling staircase and lunged out the belfry opening, ducking past the giant bell, head first into the world.

Anyone outside the old church looked up into that familiar blue sky and saw me.

“Power-Jack!” a group of children loitering on the sidewalk had rallied together with ice cream and popsicles they got from inside, “See! I told you she always shows up here!”

I quickly looked down and flashed them peace signs as I flipped through the air. I couldn’t help but chuckle, looking at the group of street urchins while quickly bracing to land on the incoming rooftop.

Landing, I skidded across the roof, leaving a trail of dust behind me. Jumping once more, from building to building, across avenues.

“Power-Jack!”

“How you doing, sweetheart?”

“P-J! Want to play some ball?”

“Hey bestiiiiiieee!”

“Yo Power-Jack, will you be my forever girl?”

Usually I’d happily indulge most of these interactions, but not today. 

Villain attacks were getting rarer by the year and so far I only faced one every other month. The last one was really embarrassing, some guy with an energy conversion power tried to rob a deli. I didn’t have to beat him, he stuck his hands into a circuit breaker and blew himself up damn near taking the entire block with him. 

Trust me- you’ll never find a more ignorant group of people than Villains.

Oh yeah.

If you haven't figured it out yet: I'm a Superhero.

Legally at least.

Born and raised in the city of New Geweld, I got my license in college and now I work solo in my neighborhood. Like I always dreamed about.

Most of the work I did was preventing accidents or stopping fights from escalating. The crime rate lowered drastically within the first week of my debut. So almost nothing to fight. Every once in a while a nasty-looking quasi stumbles out of the sewer looking for trouble and I kick their asses back. 

Sure the peacefulness my presence brought was cool, Vino Heights wasn’t the kind of place you’d wish to grow up in. Glassheads roamed the streets at night, gangs fought constantly, and the occasional Villain attack were some of the unfortunate hallmarks of my childhood. It still is for many places in the country; maybe even the world.

These days, the more bigshot Villains you took down meant more popularity. With more popularity meant more offers from agencies, networking with big Hero families, brand deals, publicity, maybe even an invitation from a Hero team.

I thought back to Doe Hall. 

I want to help people but money is sometimes more powerful than– well, power.

Now or never, Daisy... show them who you are!

I hopped from taxi cab to bus, swinging from lampposts, and yanking someone's dog away from the path of a garbage truck.

With my rabbit senses I noticed a collision in the middle of an intersection a few blocks away. I saw two cars, one was flipped over and the other crashed into a fire hydrant, damaging it to the point that water was starting to leak. Both vehicles had smoke blow out of their hoods.

I averted my trajectory midair towards the accident with the kicking of my legs. As I got closer the sound of heartbeats inside both cars grew louder and faster.

“How did y’all mess up this badly?!” I mused out loud.

Landing weightlessly on the first car, I bent my body forwards, grabbed hold of the driver's side door and tore it off, pulling out the driver and carrying them to a safe distance. Running back to the other car I did  the same.

Then, in the quarter of a breath, I glanced over to the leaking fire hydrant with purpose. I somersaulted over the wreckage, landing next to the hydrant, I punted it like you would a soccer ball, ripping it out of the concrete. A sprout of water explodes upwards and falls back down on the block, drenching the scene of the accident.

I chuckled, “If this Hero gig doesn’t work out, I could always join the fire department.”

Now with that incident dealt with, I go back to the chase. 

Not wanting anything else to take up much of my time, I started to run as fast as I could, rushing past the Heights and soaring across the city.

Lunging over whole blocks and buildings, every time I hopped off the ground, the force of it would create rings of dust and air. Twisting and turning through flocks of pigeons that made the city of New Geweld their home. I even started running on all fours like a rabbit would, which felt a lot more natural than you'd think.

The whining of police sirens grew closer as goosebumps ran across my body, the soundwaves pounding into my brain. Zeroing in on a convoy of patrol cars, I hitched a ride as they ruId down the street.

Strange- there wasn’t a Hero with them.

I hung onto the side and peeked into the car to find a cop mean-mugging me in the driver's seat.

I gave him a thumbs up.

But this left me wondering, where are the other Heroes?

I saw a news helicopter trailing behind but not a single speedster or cape clad flier joined in on the pursuit.

A tired groan threatens to escape my mouth.

The Hero Bank of America was in Midtown, the economic center of the city, and if it was getting robbed by Villains then obviously everyone would make their way to lend a hand.

And why stop there? It should be grave enough for the A.V.I.A to make an appearance. I half expected one of their massive zeppelins to pop out from the clouds.

My thoughts were interrupted by a shrieking sensation running up my spine and flaring up fiercely as soon as we turned a corner with the bank coming into view.

Only a few police were standing in front of the building, sleek patrol cars parked in front.

I frowned, “Great... why should I have even bothered?”

No craters in the asphalt, no holes punched through its pristine pillars, and smoldering embers nowhere to be found. In fact, a few people could be seen walking on the sidewalks, either completely uninterested in the commotion or reporters standing by in anticipation. I was starting to get annoyed.

I went up to an officer, asking him what the situation was exactly. He was a much older man with graying hair and a round belly standing in the midst of his very similarly built coworkers. The officer looked at me once over like I was ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag, eyes going up and down, then he went back to talking to his friends about something that had nothing to do with a bank robbery.

One of the perks of being a newbie in this career was that the general public had no clue what your powers were. Which led to some funny interactions, while others could be a little degrading. I heard their discussion as loud as it would be if they yelled it into a megaphone,

“Who’s the playboy bunny?”

“Probably some cape fresh out the academy.”

“Jesus, the costume guys are really half-assing it nowadays.”

“Who wants to bet she’s trying to make it solo?”

"Rookie mistake."

They just kept on complaining about me, until they got bored and went back to skulking. One of them looked real stressed though. He must have been around my age.

I finally spoke up, “Oh, looks like you fellas are on the ropes! We must be going up against some tough scoundrels.”

I meant what I said, but I made sure to put some ditz to my tone and drawl to my cadence. Acting like you were the dumbest person in the room when someone didn’t respect you was funny. But more importantly, it was useful.

“Don’t worry, coppers! After we’re done donuts are on me.” I chuckle as I cross my arms.

The youngest of the group shoves past them pointing directly at my face yelling, “You think this is a joke?! Two of us are dead, none of you capes give a shit about us. Nobody gives a shit!”

I recoiled slightly, taken aback by the man. His voice was coated in desperation that led to me feeling a bit guilty. I must have missed some key details from the radio.

"You think because you have powers- that your bloodline is something special. Us commoners have to face the brunt of your kind’s bullshit!"

Before he unleashed more of what he carried in his heart the others held him back as he looked dejectedly at them. 

They tell him in a hushed tone, "Watch what you say and who you say it to."

“I’m sorry to hear that, so let's promise each other to not let it happen again.”, I meant it. The last thing I wanted to see was innocent people getting hurt.

I then ask them again who or what was robbing the bank. They tell me that, around twelve p.m, a man wearing a black coat and mask walked into the main lobby and forced everyone to exit the bank. A pair of officers close to the scene had tried to apprehend him but they ended up dead. They were still by the front steps unmoved, they reeked of burnt steak to me. Something pierced their skulls and charred their brains. It wasn’t too long until more backup arrived, but they wouldn’t charge in until a Hero showed up.

Regardless of pettiness and lack of communication, I was eager to help out whichever way I could, and judging by the way this Villain murdered those police I would actually be putting myself in great danger by facing them. 

It’ll be all the more satisfying when I beat him senseless.

Then I felt something strange, stranger than I felt all day.

It’s close. What is it?

Every single nerve on my skin lit up, eyes dilating, and my heart started to pound like snare drums. There was the humming of an engine, large and powerful. The trees that lined the sidewalk started to sway in place as if caught in an invisible storm.

This was the best part.

I wasn’t worried about what was causing this weirdness, I was thinking about what I’ll have to do in the next few seconds to make sure no one else loses their life.

I lived for that.

CRAAAACCKKK!

The asphalt and concrete from beneath their feet started to split, like if someone grabbed a cake with their bare hands to eat.

The bank rose from the ground.

We could only look up, absolutely aghast. People scrambled across the street to avoid the falling chunks of buildings and cars that were picked up as well. I pinballed from person to person, narrowly saving them from the falling debris. The officer that had looked at me with callous indifference now appeared like a frightened old man, hand shaking as he yelled into his handheld radio, “Send help now! They are stealing the goddamn bank!”

Above the floating building was an old wooden ship with massive rockets sticking out of its rear. On the side it had large letters that said: CONSTITUTION.

With one big leap, aiming directly at the now flying bank I launched myself up, grabbing on to the many leaking pipes that jutted out of the foundation that still hung to the building. Climbing up swiftly while getting my costume stained with sewage.

I looked up at a shattered window and spotted a pair of beady red eyes staring right at me through the shade.

A figure took one step out from the darkness.

He wore a long black coat with a high popped collar, bandoliers wrapped around his chest with a leather holster slung around his hip, and large metal reinforced boots stepping dangerously close to my fingers.

His mask looked tribal in origin. Straw frills came out of the back, and a wide jagged smile embedded across with bone.

A smile almost as jagged and wide began to creep onto my face.

His voice was as deep and smooth as butter yet sickingly sinister, “Who's this then?”

“Howdy to you too!”

I lunge at the man as he whips out a silvery gun with a long thin barrel in tandem. Its sights were aimed right smack dab on my forehead.

He pulled the trigger….