"Shhhh, my darling, stay quiet; let me take us to our happy ending . . . this time I will not fail, this time you will love me."
It was hot, extremely hot, a whole apartment building on fire hot. The whole structure was one of the many in danger after the recent cataclysm; something had happened to Earth, and the whole world was now in chaos. A mixture of an earthquake with the fabric of reality itself tearing with a loud crack.
Leo saw it, the air getting brittle like glass and then shattering, and where it was one, there were two.
Buildings were duplicated, new people just appeared out of nowhere; the whole of New York City was in more chaos than usual, as there was no time to prepare or even brace for the impact. Even the sky itself suddenly changed from the middle of the night to noon, just when the boy was in the middle of his patrol.
That night, like many of them, he was dressed as his heroic masked alter ego, Blackjack. Just a dude with a black Kevlar one-piece suit that was made for bikers, some ballistic ceramic plates to cover his vitals like his chest, a utility belt, and a black ballistic mask that kept his identity secretive enough. So, what was his power apart from carrying a long black stick as a weapon and his gorgeous red mane? Nothing. Behind those piercing green eyes and the little freckles that managed to appear on his exposed skin around them there was . . .
CLANK
A burning chunk of debris hit him on the back, breaking a rib and ripping a muffled groan of pain from his lips.
He was a completely normal teenager.
Leo was a really good gymnast, almost Olympic, and he knew the basics of kickboxing, but apart from that he was normal.
"Boy! Are you alright?" the old man shouted as Leo dragged him toward the exit.
He could have waited for the firefighters to arrive, but Leo knew when they finally had time with all the other fires in the city, it would already be too late. "Ye-yes! Just stay calm! We are almost outside!" Blackjack yelled, trying to sound strong as it took all his stamina to move the old man to the street with the rest of the survivors.
A poor old paralytic man that was stuck in his apartment when shit hit the fan, Leo had to open a flimsy wooden door to rescue him as the rest of the tenants were too busy running for their lives.
"You shouldn't have done that! You hurt yourself saving an old goose! You have all your life ahead," the man yelled at him, looking at the young hero who was hurt by the accident. He knew really well what a wound on the back could do.
"Ah . . . chill . . . you already suffered enough to end up as burned jerky," Leo said and then began to run toward the next emergency, each step making the wound on his back hurt more and more.
Wound after wound after wound, all of them piling up from collateral damage, thugs that had taken the chance to inflict violence on innocents, and just simple mistakes on his part.
BANG
The Kevlar gave up after the third shot of the night, and the bullet went straight through the belly. Biting his guts on the way out and spraying his blood in a long arc on the dirty alleyway.
"We finally got you, Blackjack! The boss is tired of you getting your nose in our bus-" Before the thug could finish the sentence, his metal stick had broken his jaw in two. His muscles were empowered by nothing more than pure adrenaline.
"How is he still moving?" Another loud shot cracked through the dirty alley. He managed to shoot again, but Leo struck his hands quickly enough so the thug missed.
Three men were down, and only a boy was standing, slowly walking toward the next screams begging for help.
"You should live a normal life, become a doctor or a firefighter, you will save more lives that way."
"Leo! You need to stop this, you are just a normal dude! You don't have a metagen or any special aptitude!"
"Stop doing this! I will not always be there to save you! Please . . . just stop!"
The voices screamed for him to stop killing himself but Leo couldn't. It was stronger than him, that impulse that dragged his half-dead body to help those in need.
What else was he going to do? Become a dirty cop or one of the dead ones that tried to clean the city?
Becoming a doctor just so the unfair health system of the country stopped him from doing his job?
Be a firefighter with so little resources that they needed to buy gasoline for their trucks?
Turning himself into a politician just to end up as a corrupt mockery of himself?
"Co-come on . . . there are . . . people . . . that need you . . ." Leo muttered to himself, feeling cold and his vision going blurry.
Whatever first aid trinkets he had on his belt were already expended hours ago on civilians. Not a single bandage was left for him.
No chance of surviving, no special powers, no talent, zero potential in each single iteration.
There was no happiness for this heroic death, not even a single sliver of relief from doing the right thing to the end. Only bitter sadness, regret for leaving his loved ones behind, and a dash of rage against this unjust world.
That was his destiny, that was the burden he needed to carry for the universe, the strings of fate had wrapped around his neck so tight that they suffocated him in each life.
The boy fell to the floor just a few steps outside the alley, falling over something thick and black. At first he thought it was his own blood but it was a lot darker and oilier.
SNAP
The strings of fate were cut.
"Look at what they have done to you . . . my darling . . . my beloved . . . so tender . . . so frail . . . I almost didn't make it this time . . . " A maw of white fangs on the black tar slowly consuming Leo's body purred, her tone sweet and gentle as her embrace covered the dying teenager.
And with a loud and wet tearing sound, love that was yet to come was reciprocated.