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Michelle's corner

Michelle Knight. Writer, photographer, programmer, truck driver and general, all round nut case. Life is a journey and that's what this blog will probably end up being. Let's see where we go, eh? ;-)

Currently reading

Your Beauty Mark. All You Need to Get the Hair, Makeup, Glow, and Glam.
Dita von Teese
Progress: 208/256 pages

Wattpad - A not so super Superhero

This is what Wattpad wanted for the third part in the 2014 Sci-Fi contest...

This week we'd like you to do something a little different. You have a comment box to fill up, just one, so that's 2000 characters.

In your comment we'd like you to do a little SciFi in the form of a somewhat unlikely superhero. You can go into as much detail as you like, but we'd like to see your superhero's name, super power(s) and some info on it's effects and limitations: more of a character description sheet / superhero profile than a true fiction piece.

But, this is the superhero who was perhaps a little further back in the queue when abilities were handed out. So, rather than being in the same league as Magneto, Superman, Iceman or Spidey, we're talking D-list here.


NOTE - Oops, they changed from words, to characters. The below actually comes to 3,500-ish characters, so I'm going to have to cut it down. *sigh* nothing like consistency... and this competition is NOTHING like consistent so far.


So, here's the finished piece, 5,000 characters...


The Sniffler. That's what they called me. When the central alliance handed me my official costume of snot coloured, green spandex I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Were they making a serious attempt to recognise the power I brought to the battle against evil, or were they simply just taking the piss?


I couldn't tell whether they were smiling because they were happy to welcome me to the team, or if they were using all their own super-powers to stop themselves from bursting out laughing.


Like all super-heroes, I have my weakness, my Achilles heel. Unlike the others, my weakness was also my strength. Pepper. Let me tell you, it's a lonely life when the rest of your friends go to a diner and you have to stay away, simply because you could accidentally blow them all in to next week. Not to mention the earthquake.


Ah, the tremors. I'll never forget the first time that the national earthquake service knocked at my door. My poor mother didn't know which way to look, as my father tried to explain the series of events that unfolded when my powers woke up. It was humiliating for him, having these strangers call him a liar, a spinner of fairy tales and likened him to Pinochio. Their tune soon changed when they were led in to the back garden.


It was a good fifty feet long and a little wider than the house. We were having a picnic at the bottom, just where it met the river that ran across it. The cricket season was in full swing and although we didn't really follow it, Mum tried her hand at cucumber sandwiches, complete with cream cheese and salad dressing, sat between two slices of rye bread. Of course, there was also a sprinkling of that cursed brown substance to add a little taste, and that's what set me off.


Fortunately, poor old Mum and Dad ended up in the river. If my nostrils had been pointing in the wrong direction, they could have been propelled in to a garden several houses up; who knows what damage could have resulted had they landed against something hard. I guess we were just lucky that day, if you can describe that as luck.


At that time my powers were only just growing, so the damage was relatively minimal. We were far enough away from the house to avoid any structural damage, but the garden shed was turned inside out. Its contents were strewn all over the neighbourhood, and the crater was several feet deep. It was at least four days before Dad was reunited with his precious rotary lawn mower.


The scientists that first got their hands on me, told me that I defied all reason. They couldn't work out how my slim, five foot eight frame could withstand such enormous pressures inside my skull. I mean, let's face it, an elastic band is stronger than I am. What else did they expect of a sixteen year old, brought up on a diet of comic books and home computers? Perhaps that was also why they never listened to me. They were the adults; the people in charge; the know it all, pompous twits in the white lab coats. They had it coming to them, that's all I can say about it.


I told them that stuffing cotton swabs up my nostrils wasn't a wise thing to do. But oh no, they knew better than I did, apparently. That's why several of them are currently pushing up daisies in the cemetery. Well, the ones they could actually find, that is. A few of them are still missing. Presumed dead, of course. Some people in the vicinity of the snot-ridden blast radius opined that some of the scientists might still be alive somewhere, wandering around suffering from shell shock and profound deafness.


It was pure chance that I had had taken myself up to the top of a mountain, somewhere that I could do the least damage to anyone, when this group of super heroes and villains showed up. Let's face it, there had been so many fights in the city that not even the super people could bash heads without stubbing their toes on the fallen masonry from the last set to. I mean, it comes to something when a city is such a wreck that super people won't even fight there any more.


I settled back to watch the carnage and as the flames, water, ice, wind, you name it, got dished out between the multi-coloured maniacs, I just reached in to my backpack and helped myself to a sandwich I bought.


Perhaps it was my depressed mood; maybe I had subconscious suicidal tendencies; who knows. I must have forgotten to read the ingredients of the damn thing before I bought it, because sure as eggs are scrambled, there was pepper in the damn thing. I turned my head in the direction of the villains more out of reflex than anything else, and let rip an absolute snorter.


Next thing I know, the enemy ran from the scene, not quite knowing what hit them. Suddenly it's handshakes all round and I'm proclaimed the hero of the day. Or the hour. Or however long it was before they managed to suss out what my super power actually was; and then the sniggering began.


But that's how I found myself here. Sort of a dubious honour, if you ask me. All that being said, this is probably the best place as any, to try and find a super strong handkerchief.