California is one hell of a daydream, don't ya think? Thousands of superhumans supposedly across the world, wreaking havoc from their presence alone. I'm one of those superhumans. I know a lot of them actually. A group that I lead. You may have heard of them, you may have not. They live by the honest truth, hope, and determination. They do what's right, even in the face of demise.
Those are The Righters. And I lead them. My name is Brent Stars, or as the kids know me, Chief Stripes. The Star Striped Sword with the ability to take out armies in minutes. First, let's go back to the beginning. Not of the world, but of me, Chief Stripes.
Back in the ol' days, I was a young guy who joined the army. Little did I know that war was near. Some of you may have heard of this one, but uh, I was a soldier in the First World War. I was made in America's marketed image. A well fit, not too bulky, not too thin, blonde haired and blue eyed white boy with a dream of protecting my country and being a warrior. I was not ready for the horrors I saw.
Dead people, everywhere. People hung by every organ you can think of. People with half their body missing. Blown to pieces. And I am barely scratching the surface. But to save you some time, it was rough for me. A harsh and cruel world that war is.
I was out on the field for a few weeks. Overtime though, my supplies ran out. That is, until I ran out completely in the middle of a forest. Desperate, I searched everywhere for food and water. That's when I found a corpse of a soldier, bleeding out. I needed some form of liquid. I was desperate. So, I drank his blood. Little did I know that the corpse wasn't one of a normal soldier. It was one of a super soldier. A Venom Stinger. With that DNA in my body, I became a super soldier too.
I was stronger, faster, smarter. I was everything better than a human. But I felt more guilt. A bigger burden. The transformation was pretty quick, but the pain was slow, and I hated every second of it. I felt everything in my body becoming tighter and denser. I wanted to end it all, but before I could, it stopped. By wounds, dehydration or thirst, and hunger all just…disappeared. Actually, it healed them all. I had no more wounds. I felt perfectly hydrated. I felt well fed. All my energy was at its best. My body was renewed. With this, the bloodshed became even quicker.
I killed enemy soldiers left and right. There was no stopping me. I single-handedly turned the war in my side's favor. But after the war was finished, and all that was said n' done, I was simply a mysterious figure that America worshipped. But that was all I was known for. I tried to tell the people around to stop praising Chief Stripes, since, well, it was just a strong killer mantle. That's all I was. A strong killer. But then I realized embraced it. I made public appearances and revealed my identity to the world. I became an inspiration for people all over the world, no matter the background or race. I spoke on issues that are contained within America and outward.
But the more I talked about this stuff in speeches, the less the public wanted me. They didn't want to hear a message that portrayed their country in a negative light, especially after the war. Soon enough, I was shut off by society. But there was opportunity. One day, I went to a bar to get a drink. Thing is, almost everyone at the bar was in a corner, in fear. All but one dude with a purple suit. The dude was drinking through the suit itself, and seemed to be having a blast. I sat by him to everyone's shock, and asked him what's his deal. He was a Living Bomb. This was the fabled Indigo Commando I heard about in a newspaper once on a good Sunday morning.
I was thrown a bit aback, but I've seen worse on the battlefield, so this didn't necessarily faze me. He said not to worry, for his suit protected the others from his radiation, at least for the moment. We had a chat and after our fun night out, I proposed to him an idea I had. A team. I wanted to find people similar to us. People who had abilities above the average human. We needed more heroes in this world. A super team. A superhero team. So, me and Indigo went out to find some.
We find some guy at the Local Morning Shooting Range. I recognized him immediately. This was the one and only American Spartan, Bill Sun. I couldn't believe it. He was right there! In the flesh! I looked up to the guy for quite a while, especially due to his movie being a pretty accurate depiction of military work. He was the director, stuntman, lead actor, and even the weapons designer. Bill was somewhat of an idol to me, and having him recognize me as well was the icing on the cake! Either way, me and Indigo asked Bill if he was free, but already knew what was up.
"Making a superhero team eh? It was pretty obvious when I saw you in a civilian suit and walking around with some guy in a big purple suit." said Bill with a snarky tone, which I didn't mind given me knowing his heart, or at least assuming, was in the right place. He pulled down his goggles and put down his gun on the stand, smirking. I responded with a "Well…correct." right as he pulled out his hand for a handshake. Boom. American Spartan was officially apart of the team.
After this, we went on another road trip. Spartan had files on multiple superhumans and vigilantes that were running amok. At first thought they were just a bunch of Mutants or Meathumans, but the more he described it, the more I realized that there could be more. He described to me something known as a Mutate. Mutates fall under the Mutated Classification for Superhumans, and I was considered one of them. Indigo wasn't though, he was something of an oddity. I still to this day have no clue what the fuck is up with that guy. Anyways, finding out about Mutates really made me concerned. Were there more people like me? Were there still Venom Stingers out there? I asked Spartan to find the person with the closest abilities to me in America, and he found a kid in Terraville. He went by the name "Righter". Without a second thought, I grabbed Indigo and ran to the truck to travel to Terraville.
Arriving there, we weren't expecting to go to the address he hangs around to be home to no one but some random kid. It was a shed in the forest, and I was concerned on so many levels. Before I could say anything, the kid greeted himself as Henry Hopeful, and invited me inside. He had posters of me on his wall, and I got a smile on my face from it. Suddenly, he opened a door to a bunker under the cabin. Indigo went down first, and let out an audible gasp doing so. It was an entire cave. A big ass cave. Like in the movies. I couldn't tell whether this kid was a super-genius or not, but instantly knew from that alone that this indeed, was Righter.
I asked him if he was Righter. He grinned, and simply said "Yeah." The cave's light went out, and with my night vision (yeah I have that, don't ask), I saw a brief glimpse of something moving, really fast, right before the lights went back on. Standing right in front of us was none other than Righter. A slick orange and black costume that was skin-tight. It was a near perfect costume. I was impressed that a kid could even make such a thing. I complimented him on it, but he said that he didn't design it, his uncle did, but he made a few modifications, mainly the energy weapons on his wrists.
You know, I was pretty suspicious about all this. A random kid in a cabin in the woods with a hidden cave wielding tech that is probably from the next century. I've seen weirder though, so I just shrugged it off.
Righter invited us around his cave. He told us that it was a "work in progress" and that it "isn't going to be his permanent base of operations." I was going to ask him what his permanent base would be, but Indigo commented on how hungry he was, and didn't want to stay here any longer. Righter asked if he could ride with us, and we gladly accepted his offer.
We drove to the quote on quote, "best", bar in Terraville. It was ass. But Henry used to always hang around there, and only ordered macaroni and cheese. I acted like it was a pretty good restaurant but it really wasn't. And no, Indigo enjoying it doesn't mean shit. I don't think the dude even has fucking taste buds. Either way, the kid seemed happy. Henry seemed like a great fella, so crushing the mood with my negative taste wouldn't have helped. He also looked up to me, so there's that too. We left with a loss of 20 dollars. Felt nice. Had a good meal, and got another member of the team.
Driving back at night, we grabbed the radio from the trunk and started playing some jazz. It was a great ride. Right until a tree fell right on top of my ride and ruined the front. Sweet Bethany. My baby was gone. Totaled. I didn't even care that we couldn't get back to Bill, I was devastated. She was like, a few thousands in cost. Either way, we were screwed. Indigo and Henry tried fixing the car, with Henry saying it was still salvageable. I'm not going to question to question the super-genius, so I let him do his work. Indigo really needed to pee though. I asked him if it would be safe to let radioactive pee into the forest next to us, but he promised it wouldn't do any harm. He gave me a pretty weird explanation on his powers.
"My radioactivity is like a muscle for me. More specifically, an automatic one that I can hold back. No, it isn't like holding your breath. It is more akin to somethin' somethin' like uh…a fart? Yeah, like holding in er fart. I let it out sometimes in private, in unpopulated areas with little to no life. That's why I'm not constantly givin' you radiation poisoning. Cuz I'm holding in a far-"
"Please pick a different allegory holy crap." is exactly what I responded with. He still needed to go pee, so we went to the forest. Deep into the forest. It was dark, yet calm. Unnerving to a certain degree, but Indigo's presence made me a little bit more comfortable. Plus, his radiation made him glow in the dark, so I had a walking lamp. And then, another tree fell over right before us. We heard a growl immediately afterwards. Indigo started sprinting, but stopped in his tracks when a figure appeared in front of him.
"Is that a werewolf-"