Blossom

[HERO] 1. sneak-around clothes

Added 2023-10-09 19:24:57 +0000 UTC

hi! this is for a new project 0: chapter one. i'll be posting up to chapter three. though i've written up to chapter eight!! and that's about 30k total words!

but there are still things i'm fine tuning like terminology and some character stuff.

i've always wanted to write a superhero thingy, but this is my dark take on it. combined with my love for dystopian stories and horrory violence >:)

it'll be a slow burn. there'll be stats and stuff but not till a while in.

the premise: Amateur journalist Clara Zang and her friends stumble into a world-shattering secret: superheroes are not what they seem.

While an otherworldly storm of monsters called "The Tempest" engulfs most of the planet, humanity has stuffed themselves into a handful of overcrowded cities safeguarded by superheroes - Awakened individuals who keep The Tempest at bay and protect citizens from danger.

But why do people Awaken at all? What's really in the Tempest Zones?

Even though Clara doesn't Awaken on her 18th birthday, she pursues the answers anyway, following the journalist's code. What she uncovers is a nightmarish conspiracy while accidently exposing herself to a sinister experiment that synthetically Awakens her.

With her mushroom powers, she's determined to set humanity free from the Tempest and the conspiring forces that bind every living soul on the planet.

(that's the blurb for now, but i'm gonna be finetuning it for sure)

i would LOVE to hear your thoughts! very nervous about this as i'm trying to do bigger things. i'll make a channel over on discord to discussssss

also what are your thoughts on this as a title: Hero Dark 30 (referencing the military slang for half an hour past midnight but with a sinister meaning that'll come up in the story later)

anyways, here it is:

chapter 1.

"Your butt looks massive from here," echoed a voice behind Clara, and she flinched, hitting her head on the top of the air duct she was crawling through on all fours.

She looked over her shoulder to see Nico coming up behind her. "What the hell?" hissed Clara, annoyed at herself for being so surprised. She’d been too focused on what might lie ahead. "You're supposed to be in the getaway car. What are you doing here?"

"Following you through a suspicious vent in a suspicious warehouse, what's it look like?" Nico pushed herself forward till she was almost side by side with Clara in the cramped duct space. Behind her was the muted, purple glow of sunset leaking in through the entrance. "I told you I don't like waiting in the car."

Clara turned around to face Nico. Maneuvering was awkward and annoying, and she was trying not to make a sound, but she was too annoyed not to look Nico in the eyes and tell her to go back. It had only been a minute or so since Clara climbed up the pipes outside and entered the warehouse, and already, the plan was off the rails.

And, right on cue, another voice shrieked in Clara’s earpiece.

“The heck? Is that Nico? She said she just wanted to stretch her legs! I don’t want to sit out here alone!”

“No, wait. Izzy!” Clara nearly dropped her phone as her backpack bumped against the duct. The thud echoed around them, and Nico made a wide-eyed face like ooo, you’re in trouble. Clara sighed. “Izzy, we need you in the car. What if we have to run? That’s the whole point of a getaway car!”

Izzy didn’t respond. Clara heard a door slamming, and she groaned while Nico laughed.

She could’ve kicked her. “This is all your fault.”

Shrugging and flashing that easy smile she always did whenever she wanted to seem innocent, Nico adjusted her beanie. Blonde hair peeked out from the sides. “Izzy got a big ole brain in that big ole head. She can do whatever she wants.”

“What did she say about my head?”

“She said the same thing about my butt too,” said Clara. They could hear Izzy grunting as she climbed the pipes outside to struggle into the air vent. She’d be in the ducts in a few seconds. Clara was about to say something biting to Nico, but then she started wondering if her butt really did look too big in these pants. They were dark and loose-fitting to match her dark hoodie, purposed for sneaking around at 7 pm in an allegedly abandoned warehouse. She had her black hair neatly tied in a bun.

Nico was dressed the same; except she had a black beanie with her blonde hair tucked inside. And her larger, more muscular frame filled out her sneak-around clothes much better. Her face was flushed pink with excitement, glistening with sweat, and she squinted and whined and swatted floating dust as Clara blinded her with the light from her phone.

A moment later, Izzy crawled up behind Nico in similar black clothing, but she’d worn a pair of dark sunglasses to complete the look. “That pipe’s a bitch to climb,” she said. She was a mousy girl, small in stature but her brows were furrowed in determination, and there was no telling her to turn back. Her sunglasses kept sliding down her nose, and she kept pushing them back into place. The glasses and her bangs hid most of her brown face.

Clara did her best to suppress her smile. She’d guessed this would happen, especially when Nico found out that Starkeeper was spotted landing around here. The chatroom on Clara’s blog had blown up with excited chatter, and the three of them decided tonight was the night.

If Starkeeper was around here, then maybe there was something in this seemingly abandoned warehouse. This could be it. This could be their big scoop.

But more importantly, Starkeeper was Nico’s favorite superhero by far. Well, he was everyone’s favorite superhero, but Nico swore that he was her soulmate and boldly proclaimed that she would marry him one day. That’s why she trained so hard. She was the only girl on the school wrestling team, and she kicked major butt. And her 18th was coming up; if she Wakes, then she wanted to be ready for married superhero life.

The air duct groaned under all the weight, but it seemed like it would hold. Clara wasn’t happy with the way their voices echoed, and the quicker they got moving, the better. She reached into her pack and pulled out her backup camera; it was her father’s old-fashioned, digital handy cam. She’d brought it just in case. And Izzy had spruced it up ages ago to record footage in super high quality. It only looked old and useless.

“We have phones, you know?” said Nico. “Phones have cameras in them now.” She said it like she was explaining it to her grandparents.

“Shut it,” said Clara. “If you guys are gonna follow me, then I could use some B-roll.” She paused to yank the camera out of Nico’s hands and passed it to Izzy. “And these cameras are perfect. Infinitely better. Because if we get caught, they can confiscate these, and they’re worth like nothing.”

Nico couldn’t argue with that.

“You think it’ll get dangerous?” asked Izzy in a hushed tone. Her sunglasses slipped down to reveal her wide eyes.

“That’s why I told you to...” Clara scrunched her nose and scratched her forehead. “It’s just a warehouse, I think. But if chat’s right and Starkeeper is here...” She paused as Nico squealed excitedly and Izzy nudged her. “If he’s here, then I think there’s something to it.”

“Maybe it’s his love nest.”

“Eww...,” said Izzy. “I don’t wanna see that. Don’t be gross.”

Clara shook her head, but she was too excited. She’d staked out the warehouse by the river for a week now. It was supposed to be an old government research facility, abandoned and unused after some mysterious accident. But Clara had scoured the internet and found nothing that went into detail. She’d been coming by for a while because she thought it might be an excellent piece for her blog, The Ugly Duckling, and several of her anonymous followers had discussed it in depth, piquing her interest.

But there’d never been any sign of people or activity... until about a week ago when mysterious unmarked vans appeared. Every night at 6 p.m., they rolled into the warehouse, did whatever it was they were doing, then left by 7. On the dot. And she wanted to see what was going on. They'd heard Starkeeper was spotted nearby at 5, and it was now half past 6. Which meant whatever was going on in secret would be going on, and they’d rushed over after school.

She’d spotted a dark corner near the back of the warehouse. There was a drainage pipe that could be climbed, leading to a ventilation shaft. After a quick search online for the blueprints, she’d figured out how to get inside.

Clara bristled with excitement. She’d been searching for a good story for months now, wanting something juicy to rocket her blog into infamy, and this seemed like the most promising thing so far. Not at all like that time she followed her music teacher home thinking he might be an undercover supe.

But if this turned out to be something... if this could be huge and answer some questions... then maybe it would be big enough for The Ugly Duckling to receive international attention. She’d reveal herself as the anonymous author and then she would be a sure-in for the Journalism school at Shin-Tokyo University, the school for people without powers who wanted to work with the Awakened.

Clara’s 18th had come and gone, and she hadn’t Waken, but this could be her ticket out of this dump. Her time in the big leagues. She’d be an international journalist following and reporting on superheroes. The excitement! The thrills! All the mysteries she could uncover!

“You’re doing that thing again,” said Nico, poking Clara’s face. “Now’s not the time to be daydreaming.”

“Make sure your location thing is on,” said Clara, clearing her throat and slapping Nico’s hand away. She’d turned her own on when she left the car, just in case anything happened.

“I’ll sync all our phones,” said Izzy, pulling out her phone and tapping away.

“We’re splitting up?” said Nico. She looked puzzled, and her bravado wavered slightly.

“I don’t think we’ll all fit in the same vent.” Clara pulled the blueprints up on her phone as Nico bristled. Suddenly Nico seemed more anxious about the whole thing, but Clara was a bit relieved that her friends were in here too. They made her feel bolder. She’d planned on going in alone, working through the air ducts until she found a spot to record from. “Look. A few feet ahead, the thing splits in two directions. It goes around this big space here.”

Struggling to squeeze together, their heads side by side, Nico and Izzy looked at the map on Clara’s phone and nodded solemnly in unison. Izzy’s sunglasses slid as she tried to get a better look. The building was large, rectangular, and rather boring. Other than “KEEP OUT” and “CONDEMNED,” there were no signs indicating what might’ve been inside. Izzy thought it was overrun with homeless Hollows and refugees. Nico figured it was a mafia hideout after the government abandoned it. But what was Starkeeper doing here? What about the vans?

Clara pointed at the largest room. The large metal gates out front opened into that room, and that must be where the vans unloaded their stuff.

“If you guys go the other way, you can...” She drew a semi-circle around the big space. “You should be able to record another angle. Just hit record and hold it steady, okay? And be quiet.”

“So, Izzy and me will be together?” said Nico.

“And what if a supe shows up?” asked Izzy.

“We flirt." Nico looked like she was going to say something more about her husband, but Clara turned and started crawling ahead on her elbows and knees. Slowly and steadily. Trying not to make a sound.

There was a shuffling behind her, and she knew the others were following, and her mind went to what Nico had said earlier. Nico was always saying something dumb or funny, and it was almost always harmless, but sometimes... that jab about Clara’s butt was silly. Clara knew it was silly and her friend was just kidding, but she couldn’t shake it. And if she mentioned it, Nico would apologize and give her a brutal bear hug and then say something about big butts being what everyone wanted, but it made Clara feel extra self-conscious. From her parents to her classmates to even some of her teachers, why did people always feel the need to comment on her appearance? Why am I even thinking about this right now?

A few sweaty and dust-filled minutes later – Izzy complaining about not bringing a mask or a scarf, that inhaling all this dust was terrible for their lungs (she pulled her collar up to her nose), and Nico mocking her for being a hypochondriac and that she should’ve just stayed in the car, and Clara hissing that they need to be quiet – they arrived at the split. The only light now was from Clara’s phone. Dust floated and swirled all around them in the cramped space.

The duct went right and left, looping around the warehouse. Above her head was a fan sucking up air and generating a gentle breeze.

Clara chose left as Nico mentioned how cozy this was, and Izzy told her to shut up because she felt claustrophobic. After scooting down a bit, Clara turned to face her friends. Sweat ran down the side of her head. Fighting the urge to comment on Nico’s butt, she watched Nico move to the other side, while Izzy turned on her phone’s light. She was still covering her nose with her shirt pulled up, making her face all sunglasses and dark cloth and bags.

“See you guys in a bit,” said Clara with a grin. “And hopefully, we’ll be internet famous.”

“I hope we discover something big,” said Izzy, her voice muffled by her shirt. “This better be worth it.”

Nico grumbled about having to be in the lead now, but Clara was already turning away. They’d be connected through their earpieces anyway, cheap earbuds they’d bought at the dollar store that Izzy had reprogrammed to connect all three of them at the same time. As she crawled forward, trying not to inhale too deeply, she pictured herself as a dot on the map she’d studied. Moving along the front of the warehouse. Just like a spy from the old movies. Just like an investigative journalist.

Muffled voices echoed and reverberated, and a strange blue light appeared once she turned a corner. Clara’s heart raced. Her lips curled into a smile. She could almost taste the scoop.

Exhaling gently, she lowered herself till she was nearly flat in the duct space and inched forward. When she got to the grill, she gasped, and regretted it instantly as dust flew into her mouth.

The warehouse was built deep into the ground, making her position in the ducts feel extremely high up. She was near the ceiling, and it looked like a twenty-foot drop to the floor where an enormous blue stone sat in the center of the warehouse, illuminating the entire space.

Nobody could hear her cough. Which was fortunate, but she tried to stifle it as best she could with her arm. But even this couldn’t ruin her joy; she’d been right! Something important was going on here. More important than she ever could’ve dreamed.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh Shit. We’re going to have the craziest blog in journalism history.

Motherfucking history.

She struggled to get her camera out. Hers was a little bigger than the handy-cam she’d given to Izzy and Nico. It was a custom-built DSLR design made from discarded parts she’d stolen from the disposal units of several fancy tech stores. Izzy had helped build it, and they were sure it was better than any expensive camera money could buy. It even had retractable tripod legs built into it.

She set it up quickly, sliding the telephoto lens outward. The zoom could go 40x without a significant drop in quality, and the little lens extended through one of the gaps in the grill with ease. She smirked and mocked Nico’s voice in her head. We have cameras in our phones now.

Her fingers were shaking. I should be braver than this. I’m a journalist. A wannabe journalist. But a journalist! When she’d been a kid, she’d wanted to investigate everyone. What were people up to? Where did they work? What were their lives like?

But now she wanted to chase the Awakend and the strange Tempest Zones that swallowed most of the planet. To find out more about them. To uncover their secrets and show the world. So how was she going to do that if a little secret warehouse was making her shake this much? She whispered the journalist’s code to herself, as well as something she’d added to it: seek truth and report it; bravery despite fear.

Her fingernails tapped against the little screen. She set the focus to manual.

She’d have to watch everything through the screen anyway; she was too high up to see anything clearly with just her eyes. She turned the lens dial, adjusting the focus as she zoomed in, one eye pressed to the viewfinder, the other shut tight. The glowing stone blossomed into brilliant, stunning clarity. It looked nothing like a stone.

Maybe it was a gem. Or some kind of crystal. But it was egg-shaped and upside down, impossibly balanced on its smaller end. On the camera, the lighting seemed more green than blue, but the stone had little roots extending all around. Extending from a dark center that floated inside the stone...

What the fuck...

As she zoomed in more and adjusted the focus, she realized the roots started at that dark center. It reminded her of an egg yolk, or maybe a heart. And the roots were like veins that crawled out of the bluish-green body and connected to... she turned the camera slightly, but in her excitement, she’d moved too far too quickly, and the camera swept down the room to the entrance where several large black vans stood vigil.

Swearing softly, she readjusted the zoom. I’ll just cut that part out in post. She turned the camera back toward the stone.

The veinlike roots extended out and connected to plastic tubing. Like wiring on a hospital bed. The tubes led into beeping and whirring machines that looked like elongated refrigerators lying on the floor. She counted eight of them. Set up in a circle around the stone.

People in orange hazmat suits moved about. They adjusted things on the machines, typed stuff onto tablets, and it all seemed rather busy and intense and secretive. Ideas for the blog were already forming in her head: A secret government research lab? A mysterious stone! Refrigerator thingies... Okay, she needed to workshop that with Izzy and Nico.

She zoomed out to capture the entire setting and realized the glowing wasn’t like the constant glow of a lightbulb. This was more like a gentle rising and falling.

Like the stone was alive and breathing.