Jump to content

Aberrant: The Middle Children of History - I Used To Be... (Complete)

Recommended Posts

Monday, June 16th, 2025. 11:34am

...a god damn Hero.

That’s what he thought to himself as Sebastian Stone stood in the line at the local McDonalds. Standing about three people back he could see the woman in the front getting ready to order. At least he thought she was if she would ever get off her damn opphone. The young lady behind the counter, some teen girl either paying tuition with this crappy job or perhaps trying to make some extra money over the summer, certainly had an expression that the bitch on the phone needed to hurry up. The rest of the line was inclined to agree.

This. This is true evil. Bank robbery? Nah, money is insured. Car jacking? Car is insured, but twenty minutes to get a fuckin’ Big n’ Tastey… oh, hell naw. This woman needs to hurry the hell up before I get sober. That reminded him. The woman once again ordered, then changed it, then heard something interesting on her opphone and decided that conversation was more important than the people waiting in line behind her. While all that went on Sebastian raised a brown bag to his lips and took a big swig from the bottle inside.

“C’mon lady! Get off the phone already, we’re on our lunch break!” The complaints started, it was inevitable and this was L.A. The two workers behind Sebastian hollered up at the woman, who looked like she was some model-to-be without a brain cell in her head.

“Screw you.” She replied with a huff and a something that Sebastian would have categorized as a snort, but it’s still up for debate.

Stone laughed silently, a bit of whiskey dribbling from the corner of his mouth discovering that being humored and getting shit faced all at once sometimes didn’t work out so well. “You’re doing it all wrong guys.” He said in a gruff baritone that carried a heavy street accent.

“You think you can do better pal? By all means, we’re fucking hungry here.” The workers’ request seemed a simple one. Besides, Sebastian was hungry.

“Save my spot.” Was all he said, whiskey wafted off his breath in a ninety proof funk.

Casually he strolled to the front of the line. A few strands of black hair hung out from the knit cap he was wearing in true thug fashion. Her back was to him and he didn’t attempt to get her attention. Casually he reached out and plucked the opphone from her hand.

“Hey! Asshole, that’s mine.” She spun around and swallowed hard as all six feet of Sebastian Stone glared back at her from behind cheap sunglasses.

“Order your god damn meal, or we’re going to see how well you can dial 911 with that fucking phone shoved down your throat and Big Mac crammed up your ass.” The woman turned red with anger but when she opened her mouth he leaned in and lowered his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and stared at her eye to eye. “Try me.” Was all he needed to say.

Offended and scared for her rectum the annoying young woman quickly scoffed and left as fast as her ‘so last season’ heels could take her. Cheers rose up with applause from the hungry and impatient. With a tired stagger Sebastian strolled back into the line to wait. He took a huge swig of his ninety proof potion and rolled his eyes.

I used to be a god damn Hero.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Monday, June 16th, 2025. 1:21pm

"We are here outside the Los Angeles Municipal Building where in a moment Edmund Fanning, Professional Seal Hunter will give his opinions to the gathered protesters here. As you well know with our prosperous ecosystem thanks to nova technology the endangered Harp Seal came off the endangered species list last month and already hunters are beginning to prepare for the hunting season which lasts from January to September." The lovely reporter spoke to the camera as best she could while hundreds of people gathered behind here brandishing picket signs and shouting at the podium that was set up at the top of the steps.

When a man approached the crowd reacted with boos and hissing and the occasional obscene word or gesture. He looked dignified, in a suit and tie and all the other nonsense that people feel makes them look better than the schmo next to them. His hair cut looked like he was trying to cover a really huge bald spot but the comb-over just didn't have the magic. The Count Olaf mustache needed to go too, no doubt about that...

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ugh, his voice was so snooty it made you wanna kick him in the nuts after the first word. "I know the public has mixed views on Seal Hunting re-opening. Please allow me to remind you that it has gone on for nearly ten thousand years..."

He gazed off to his left and looked into the sky. From nowhere one Sebastian Stone fell from the sky wit ha brown paper bag in one hand and a broom handle in the other. He toppled the pompous ass with a harsh impact but was up before the old geriatric piece of shit knew what hit him.

Staggering a bit from side to side Sebastian raised up the broom handle to the sky, while raising the bottle to his lips and chugged the contents while he delivered a thunderous whack with the large stick he carried. In a single blow it split and broke in half across the old man's back. The inebriated 'nova' backed away and staggered down a few of the steps while the man wailed in pain. Police rushed forward and the media swarmed like locusts.

"Stone! Stone!" The cute reporter screamed over the shocked crowd. A microphone was up in his grill in complete 3-D. From beneath his sunglasses his eyes went crossed trying to focus on it. "What was that? Can we get a comment on why you hit that man? Can we get a statement."

"Yeah." He stammered out, pushing the mic aside. "Shit looked like it hurt. Think of how a seal feels." His grin was ear to ear and his expression completely remorseless. The young reporter had to step away the smell of alcohol was so strong.

In a single drunken leap Sebastian took the sky once more... kinda. He wavered from side to side as his limbs flailed about as if trying to get some semblance of balance. Before he was completely out of sight he screamed something that sounded like "Shave the seals!"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Monday, June 16th, 2025. 2:46pm

The city of L.A. looked beautiful from where Sebastian hovered above it. Ants, that's all the people looked like to him were ants. He just hovered here, not a care in the world. Hell, he was invulnerable and super powerful... what the fuck did he have to worry about?

The sudden sputter of a helicopter broke his train of thought while he hovered and held the bottle to his lips chugging it like water. It was number two for the day... or maybe three, he lost count after his fifth piss from a high place... or was it sixth?


"Sebastian Stone..." a mechinized voice came from the chopper's cockpit. "...god this guy's an asshole.

"The mic is on, sir." Another voice spoke up from within.

Sebastian, cheep sunglasses casting a glint of the L.A. sun, turned around in the air. The gust from the police copter's props threatened to blow his knit cap off his head, which would have grabbed for if his hands weren't full. One on the bottle, one on his Johnson.

"Hey boys!" Sebastian greeted them with a raise of his whiskey bottle. Urine trickled across the L.A. sky and Sebastian frantically tried to put his weapon away. As he panicked trying not to piss on himself the bottle of whiskey fell to the earth below.

"Sebastian Stone..." the black tinted copter just hovered there several feet away. "Pissing on my fair city again huh? You filthy piece of shit."

"Sir, I don't think we're allowed to call him those things... that's harassment." A rookie seemed alive in there somewhere.

"Sarge?" Stone put his now free hand above his eyes to block the sun and try to peer through the reflective glass. "Hey! How's your wife and my kids?"

"Cut the shit Stone. We have a problem and all the real novas are busy doing things that washouts like you wish they were still doing. The Governor needs you to handle something." Bile almost oozed from the speakers as the irritated Sergeant made his statement.

"Tell the Governor to kiss my ass!" In a familiar rude gesture involving one of is fingers the drunken Novus shot off through the L.A. sky at nearly two hundred miles per hour laughing as loud as he possible could, which was pretty loud, think about it, the guy is a nova and can hold a lot air in his lungs after all...


It was a lot faster than the chopper could hope to match, so he got away.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Monday, June 16th, 2025. 10:17pm

About as gracefully as a drunken man walks Sebastian soared slowly to the balcony of his apartment some several stories off the ground. His ragged high tops touched down and he lost his balance, knocking over the cactus his girlfriend, Cassandra, had bought him for his birthday earlier this year.

He fumbled the keys in his pocket a bit, still trying to get his balance while his feet crushed fragments of terracotta, potting soil and the cactus. Like the idiot he had proven to be for the better part of the day he stumbled finding the lock... in the dark... while drunk... wearing his cheap Mac Tonight sunglasses.

The key slid in and the tumblers clicked. He twisted the key and ... nothing. The lock didn't give. Oooh kay... done this before ten times more fucked up than this. Wong key. he thought and he lughed softly to himself, amused by his drunken idiocy. Jingling keys echoed through the dark streets as he found the key he knew was the one.

The key slid in and the tumblers clicked. He twisted the key and ... nothing. The lock didn't give. Puzzled he leaned backwards looking up towards the building's roof top and counted down to his position. Seven... eight... yep. This is it. The hell?

"Yo! Sebastian! Dat You?" He heard call up to him from the street below.

"Yeap... yeap... he is I and I is really shit faced..." the drunkard laughed back at whomever is was on the street below. "Bernie! That you bro? My fuckin key don't work."

Sebastian hovered down to the street below, cutting off his flight power a bit too soon and tumbling down onto the hood of a car. Snickering and wheezing the lush stood up, staggered some more put one finger to his lips signaling for Bernie to quit making so much noise.

"Sebastian, I change lock on you." Right to the chase the Indian man didn't waste time giving Stone the truth of the situation. "You don't live here no more. You no pay rent for one year. I no can have that. I have predicted you."

The native Californian man stood up, as well as he could, and loomed over Bernie the Landlord with his full six foot-two inch frame. Compared to poor Bernie the guy was a giant and he swallowed hard expecting for Sebastian to throttle him where he stood. "Okay, first of all Punjab, it's 'evicted' not 'predicted'. And second... my key isn't..."

It took some time for the facts to reach the pickled thing in his head he called a brain. "Wait, what the fuck you mean I'm predicted," he shook his head, sobering up somewhat. "I mean, evicted!"

"How many way are der to say it? You no live here. You've been thrown out, given da boot, tossed out into da street, sent packing. Face it Stone, you ass out!" Bernie, despite his short stature was up in Stone's face (more or less) pressing his chest into the nova's own.

Sebastian gently pushed the man away from him, separating him from the crazy Indonesian pygmy landlord. "Chill the fuck out dude, damn." his drunken baritone carried some measure of both annoyance and desperation. "Where's my shit then?"

"Up there." Pointing to the apartment. "You owe one year rent, you no pay one year rent, I keep shit."

"You can't do that, Bernie and you know damn well you can't." Crossing his arms over his chest, the nova man looked at his landlord like he was bullshitting him at this point.

"Try to stop me." he threw his arms in the air and walked away. "If you have money for lawyer and court then I say use it to pay me instead! Give me rent by midnight, or you're screwed crazy drunken American ex-super guy!"

The front door to the building foyer closed and Sebastian stood in the street wondering what the fuck just happened.

Back rent too? Where the fuck am I going to come up with... The thought seemed to jar something lose in his mind. Before his next breath the nova launched himself into the sky.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

3613 Mulholland Drive.

Monday, June 16th, 2025. 10:26pm.

Clouds of fragrant steam billowed lazily through the small but immaculate bathroom, the heat and moisture condensing into tiny droplets of water on the slate-colored travertine tile that adorned the walls. Soft lamplight illuminated the vague shape of a woman showering behind frosted glass, raking her hands back through the long, dripping curtain of her hair as she arched her back to savor the spray pouring down from overhead.

Rivulets of clear water streamed down over her tawny skin, rinsing away the frothy mounds of jasmine-scented bubbles that veiled her curves; the echo of subdued music reverberated soothingly against the stone, eliciting an occasional murmur from the bathing woman as she hummed along.

When she had finished, a plush, ivory bath sheet and a glass of Merlot awaited her, and Cassandra Salvatore sighed in complete contentment. Her dark hair was quickly combed and twisted behind her head, while the towel lay abandoned over the back of a chair. She was still naked and flushed from the heat of the shower as she walked barefoot into the living room, hips swaying as she sipped her wine and padded across the hardwood floor. Drowsily, she set the wineglass on an endtable and shrugged into the white silk robe draped over the arm of the couch.

Sparing herself an impish giggle, she fell bodily backwards onto the overstuffed cushions and caught the remote as it bounced up into her hand.

"Let's see," she sighed, squirming until she was completely comfortable. The wine was within arm's reach, the movie (a new romantic comedy about three roommates involved in a love triangle) was about to start, and her weekly date with herself was well underway. "It's not like I'm going to get any other kind of date, anyway," she groused irritably, downing another sip of ruby heaven and switching the movie on.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Monday, June 16th, 2025. 10:27pm

Glass sprayed through out her living room, her large sliding glass door that lead out to a magnificent patio exploded inward as Sebastian hurled himself through it and landed face first on a coffee table that was most likely expensive. His momentum didn't slow and he tumbled right through the living room and smashed through a pair of sliding closet doors.

Stunned, shocked, and about to have a heart attack, Cassandra screamed loudly and jumped back away from the mess, clawing her way up to stand as far back on the couch as she could.

"Whoa, the birds on that commercial weren't bullshitting. That is a one streak free fucking shine." Stumbling from the closet, a few garments hanging over his shoulders, the drunken nova grinned wide. "Hi baby!"

He thumbed back to the closet. "Sorry bout the doors," he paused and saw the full extent of the mess he caused. "an the windows, an the table... I'll uhh, pay for em. Look, sweetie... you uhh, have six-thousand seven hundred and forty one dollars I could borrow?" He tried to look as innocent as he could despite barely being able to keep his balance from the alcohol. He smiled an innocent smile. "Rent's due."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It's amazing how quickly the pendulum of a person's heart can swing from one emotion to another. In Cass's case, the heart-stopping terror of having a man come smashing through her patio doors, right through the middle of her living room switched to volcanic rage as soon as Bastion opened his mouth.

"You-" she began, her voice trembling as violently as her outstretched hand, one finger pointing accusingly at the drunken wreck of a man. "You want rent money?" she hissed. "Rent money. You destroyed my house for rent money?" Her voice rose appreciably in volume as her lovely face contorted in anger.

"I just gave you your rent money on the third, 'Bastian, and now you're telling me you need six fucking grand? Are you out of your mind?" Cass ranted, clambering down away from the wall and the back of the couch. When the first shard of glass broke beneath her bare foot, she stopped short of her goal, closing her eyes and compressing her lips into a thin line of anger and pain.

"Get out," she whispered, still shaking, but superficially calm. Even her voice was eerily neutral as she spoke, opening her eyes to meet Bastion's gaze. "I'm not doing this anymore. For the last four months I've paid your bills, cleaned up your messes, pretended not to mind that you're only ever here anymore when you've been drinking and you want an easy lay. I thought I could help you. I thought if I loved you, it might be enough."

She exhaled slowly, reaching down to extract the piece of glass from her foot with a pained wince; not only did it hurt, it was going to be a hell of a chore to clean up.

"It's not. You're not doing anything with your life, and I... I can't keep this up. I need more from a man than-" With a sigh, she swept one arm in an arc, indicating the demolished glass and furniture. "Than this. I'm sorry, 'Bastian, but I want you to leave."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sebastian sighed. Cass wasn't sure if it was a sigh of defeat or frustration. "Baby, c'mon. You know I'm just really in a bad spot at the moment with all the lawsuits and all that business. I'll get the money back to you."

He stepped closer, glass crunching under his high tops and grinding into her carpet. "You don't wanna do this, we've been breakin' like every other week. We take a few days, shit blows over and we meet up for great make up sex." His grin was almost predatory as he looked at her, naked under the short white silk robe.

"I said I was sorry for the mess, I'll clean it up." He staggered to keep his balance as he walked forward. With a tug he undid the tie of the robe and Cass quickly folded her arms over to keep it from falling open. "Let's skip the break up par this time and go right to the make up sex. C'mon." The whiskey pickled Casanova hit her with a full exhale of ninety proof.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Grimacing at the alcoholic haze around Bastion, Cassandra shook her head and took a step back, arms resolutely folded over her ample chest.

"No," the dark-haired beauty replied, her eyes burning bright with barely-concealed anger as she stared up at the hulking novus. "I don't want you to clean it up. Let's not break up the pattern we've established, hm?" She sighed, re-knotting the belt of her robe and downing the remaining wine in her glass. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

"I'm not paying your way through life, 'Bastian. If you want to be a nobody forever, that's fine. If you don't want to do anything worthwhile, that's fine. You're just not going to do it on my dime anymore. I love you," she said seriously, the ghost of a smile passing across her lips. "But I can't help you."

She turned, carefully picking her way across the outer edge of the room until she reached the hallway.

"I'm going to bed," she murmured over her shoulder as she paused. "If you need a place for the night, you can use the couch. That's the best I can do." For a moment, it seemed there might be more, some hesitation. She shook her head and limped into her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Good night, 'Bastian," she sighed, rummaging for her first-aid kit before collapsing back onto her bed.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Perhaps it was the tone of her voice, or maybe how easily she walked away from him this time, but something told Sebastian that she was serious this time. The induced stupor of alcohol cleared somewhat as the commonsense gripped a hold of the moment tightly.

He flexed and tightened as her door closed. There was nothing he could say that would take away what he'd already done. With only a simple request from his mind the laws of physics bent for Sebastian and his body lifted slowly from the carpet. Just a moment later he launched himself from Cassandra's via the way he'd entered at top speed.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sebastian Stone was many things. A criminal, a thug, a drunk... and a fool. He wore all those mantles proudly, not because he took pride in them, but because it was those things that defined him and made him the man he was to this day. He was also in love, a good man, a hero, and despite all his flaws he commanded the common sense to know that what he was doing with his life was wasting it away. Tonight was an introduction into the harsh reality that sometimes one's merits and one's flaws can not coexist.

"I thought if I loved you, it might be enough. It's not. You're not doing anything with your life, and I can't keep this up. I need more from a man than this. I'm sorry, 'Bastian."

Cassandra's words echoed in his mind as the L.A. sky enveloped him in a gale. The lights of the city below on any other night would have seemed breathtaking, even after twenty years of being able to fly above them. Rage boiled in his chest and anger tensed every muscle in his body as he flew as fast as he could for as long as he could, like a child trying to run from his problems. The moisture from his eyes turned ice cold as it streaked back across his temples.

He arched back towards the earth below almost invisible in the dark California night. He gritted his teeth unable to keep the rage inside any longer and at two hundred miles plus soared straight into a tanker train car, punching it with everything he had.

Two-hundred tons of pure power ripped into the reinforced one hundred and forty ton black metal tank. The impact cratered the side of the car and launched it off the track tumbling side over side into its neighbor car, crushing them both under tons of metal with a clamor that might wake the dead from a sound sleep in a comfy bed, resting from a long day after drinking a glass of warm milk.

He felt his shoulder pop and crack. His quantum reinforced frame could handle about any impact... three years ago. Now after binge drinking and letting himself go for so long the nova 'hero' was thirty pounds overweight, unwashed, and about as unfit as a nova could be. Even flying fast for as long as he did left him winded.

Hunched over, grunting and winching from the pain in his shoulder, the ogre of a nova breathed as best he could. His eyes were shut tightly, not from pain but from regret. Everything was his fault and he knew it. How he ever thought he could keep on blaming the world for his failures was beyond him but he kept trying day after day. Sure, he didn't deserve the public crucifixion after the death of that young girl, he tried everything he could to keep her safe.

But how long was he going to stay mad at the world? Mad at himself?

"I thought if I loved you, it might be enough."

His bare knees hit the rocks on the ground of the train yard. Like a child wanting the noise to stop he gripped his knit cap tightly on its sides and pulled it down over his ears and face to hide the pain and tears that welled up in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Cass." He sobbed silently to himself. "Please..."

Hunching over and curling himself into a ball there in the darkness of the train yard Sebastian Stone prayed for someone to fix him...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Tuesday, June 17th, 2025. 1:48am

The brown paper bag concealed Sebastian's mouth and he suckled hard from the coward's pacifier. The bottle of booze burned his throat as it poured into him setting his innards ablaze with the temporary absolution of his sins.

Los Angeles sure was a pretty place. Griffith Park really wasn't all that much to look at in the dark, but the Hollywood Freeway was alive and doing fine even at this late hour. Little white motes sped up and down the asphalt river and in his drunken haze the headlights stretched and the world wavered adding to the buzz he had going.

"Sebastian!" cried an old masculine voice from way below. Stone looked down from his comfortable spot within the second "O" of 'wood' and saw an old man climbing his way around bushes and shrubs to get close to the Hollywood sign in which he was currently reclining. Oh, fuck. That's the last thing I need...

"Sebastian Michael Stone! Getcho ass down here, boy. Don't be makin' an old man climb up there after you!" the man's thick African American accent rose up over the mountain side again, hoarse with years of tough living on the street and blue collar work.

"Piss off!" He cried out, leaning his head to head to one side where it rested uncomfortably on the metal framework. "Go home, take your Centrum, and leave me alone damn it."

"I'll Centrum you you smart ass." A twig broke below and Sebastion could hear the old man stumble, fall, and spew a litany of curses about nature and the dark. "Bastion! Get yo' ass down here, cuz so help me I will climb up there and slap the black outta you!" There was threatening pause in the midnight air. "I'll sing gospel!"

The drunkard fallen hero heard the massive intake of air into the old man's lungs and quickly conceded the battle. "For Christ's sake okay! Fine!"

The old man began walking up the trail to the road mumbling and cursing silently to himself as he touched the pavement of Mt. Lee Drive close to where his old beaten-up Ford was parked. With a thunderous gust of wind, Sebastian landed on the ground several feet away from him. His speed was impossible and when his feet slammed into the earth, quantum poured from within him, blasting out in a radius that rippled the ground like a pebble tossed into a stream.

The old man stumbled for a moment and fell back on his ass and his car rocked and bounced violently while pebbles and rocks trickled down the hills. For a split second a 7.6 quake rumbled the ground in a small radius around the irritated nova, and he wasn't even trying very hard.

"Very funny. Very funny..." Rising from the ground the old man brushed the dust from the backside of his work pants. "Never tire of that one, do ya?"

The sight brought a grin to Sebastian's face. No, he never really did tire of that one. "What do you want Darnell?"

"Darnell is it now, eh?" He grunted and strolled lazily towards his car. His old bones were rattled from the nova's entrance. "Callin' ya own dad my his first name. That hurts son, it hurts."

"You were a shitty father, and a worthless drunk, what do expect?" his son asked.

"For my son to have learned something his father's mistakes. To do better than me, be better than me." Sincerity came from the graying man whose eyes misted a bit at the recollection of the man he'd been. He pointed at the bottle. "Like father like son I suppose."

"Oh don't start! I've had a rough night and I don't feel like this shit right now!" the mighty baritone echoed through the hills.

"I know, I know." Darnell was calm as could be. His son didn't threaten him, never had. Fathers, real fathers, know their sons better than anyone in the world and while as men they slip and stumble along the way, a true father knows that being a Dad means accepting your flaws along with your child's but still being there to guide them through life. "Cassandra called me. Shame about her, son, damn I liked her. She had the greatest..."

"Tits, I know." Stone chugged another gulp from his 'take the pain away' potion.

Darnell glared, dumbfounded by his son's immaturity. "... I was going to say potential. I really thought she could straighten you out Sebastian."

"Yeah, well, shit's over now ain't it." He staggered to the car and leaned against the front of it blocking the beam from vehicle's headlights. "Her loss."

"That's the booze talking." his father chided, waving a finger in his son's direction. "She loves you Sebastian. Why do you think she called me? Cuz she knew I'd know where to find you. Been coming here since you were, what? Eight? You need help Sebastian, please, let us help you."

"Help me? The fuck you think you can do for me?" Spinning off the car and almost stumbling to the concrete he flailed the bottle of booze around to get his footing. "Who the fuck are you to tell me I need help? You drank, you ran mom off, you-"

"I did not run your mother off!" The chord was struck and it was struck hard. Darnell Stone was in his son's face faster than Bastion could fly. "She..." He calmed himself while Sebastian took a few moments to gather his bearings. He was stunned at how fast the three blurry old men in front of him could move. "She left us Sebastian. I didn't start drinking until after she left us. I was left with a super-son and a broken heart. I, I couldn't handle it."

"You need to get up out ma face." Looking down at his father of five foot eleven inches he flexed prepared for a fight.

"Right..." Darnell stepped away. "I forgot... you the big bad nigga roun' here aint'cha son? Well, pardon me. Tell ya what Jonny Bigdick... if you're so bad and better than everyone why can't you accomplish something so small like getting ya shit togetha. Huh? Answer me that."

"I don't need this shit..." Sebastian stepped away, turned around and took two steps. His father caught the reflexive tension as he flexed for a leap.

"Sebastian Michael, don't you dare fly away from me God damn it!"

The sound of the silence was deafening. The still night breeze chilled the face of Darnell Stone, the dampening sweat cooled his excitement somewhat. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides and his eyes were closed as he screamed his command to his son. All his life he'd always watch his son just zip away when his father tried to be a dad. It was a hard thing to feel, knowing that you screwed up and even thought you you couldn't take back the past those around you wouldn't let you fix the damage after you've fixed yourself. Five years of sobriety taught Darnell Stone that it was dark and Hell was hot. Climbing your way out of the fire was not anywhere near as easy as the people say it is.

When he opened his eyes and saw his son hovering there in the sky just little more than a foot off the ground, he didn't waste a moment. "Sebastian, I know that I was never a good father and I know that it's a bit late to to be one now. Walking into your life so late and trying to be dad is a foolish thing to do." His work boots, faded and worn from several months of abuse fell a bit louder in the still night air.

"I love you son. I know it's a little late to say it, but there ya go." It was only them on that dark road. Sebastian just hovered there like a puppet whose puppeteer had put him aside for the night. His shoulders hung low and his head was slouched. "I've always been proud of you. The things you did, the people you helped. Do you know why?"

"No." he replied softly, almost ashamed as he floated there.

"Because that wasn't the boy I raised. You made the choice without me to be a good man. That was my job! As your dad I was supposed to be the one to guide you down that path of being a man. But you did it. And you didn't just be a man Sebastian, you became a great one."

Nervously he messed with his greasy coveralls as his son slowly turned around to face him. "I remember seeing you on TV every day son. Every fight I worried for you. Every life you saved I thought to my self 'That's my boy, my son'. But you weren't. I never raised a son, and one day that realization struck me harder than anything you can imagine Sebastian."

"I don't know, I can imagine a lot." His reply was a welcome one in the tension-filled night air. The humor softened some the difficulty that his father no doubt had as he bared his soul.

"You're the reason I stood up one day and cleaned myself up. You. My son showed me that I needed to be the man that I was supposed to teach him to be years ago." Honesty and sadness make a strange expression when set upon the stone brow of a hard working, no nonsense man. It takes a lot of courage to admit to your son that he showed you more than you ever could have showed him. "You are the man I wanted to strive to become Sebastian. For me, for you. I owed you that. Everyday saw you give freely your power to the people so that this world could be better."

"And they spat in my face!" Pointing at the city below Sebastian's voice cracked with sorrow and rage. "They threw it back in my face! So fuck them! Fuck! Them! I'm out for mine now."

"The true worth of a man, Sebastian." His father reached up and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. Sebastian slowly touched back down onto the pavement. "Is not measured by what he does for himself, but what he does for someone else. That's what my son taught me. We can only help you if you want us to help you, son. I wasn't a good father, I know that, but please, please let this old man be a good friend and help the one who helped me turn my life around."

That was it, Sebastian had been hit with the true reality of his life and the effect it had on others. His own father idolized him. It was a lot to take in, but even drunk Sebastian's mind demanded that he wake up and pay attention. He knew was being wrong all these years but never thought to change it. He blamed them, it was easier. It took the pain away to just look around and hate the world because you saw it for the way it really was: dark. It was in this World of Darkness that Sebastian Stone had soared into as a light of hope for all the people who needed the one thing that was in very short supply in this day and age.

A Hero. Fallen or not that what he was. It was who he was. That's why he kept waking up everyday and soaring around the city looking for people doing wrong, because that's what he was born to do.

He was hope.

He was a hero.

The thinking mixed with the booze didn't jive well with mighty Sebastian Stone. He yawned in technicolor across the pavement while his father leaped away and groaned in disgust. Retching and heaving up an entire stomach full of booze, and a fish stick or two, left Sebastian kneeling (partially in his own vomit) and coughing violently.

Looks like hope and heroism would have to wait until the morning.

Link to comment
Share on other sites


This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.

  • Create New...