The sun shone brightly over New York City, its golden rays reflecting off skyscrapers and bustling streets below. The people of the city moved with purpose, their faces painted with joy, laughter, and the ease of a sunny day. But amidst the warmth and vibrancy, a playground in Queens held a darker undercurrent.
Michael Kaiser stood behind a creaking swing, pushing his little sister, Sarah. Her laughter rang out, bright and carefree.
"WEEEEEEE!" she shouted, kicking her legs as she soared higher.
Kaiser smiled faintly, the joy on her face momentarily masking the heavy burden that weighed on his heart.
"MIKE!"
The sound of his name jolted him. Turning, he saw his parents standing at the edge of the playground, waving at him. Their faces were alight with warm, genuine smiles, an expression he hadn't seen in years.
"Mom… Dad…" he muttered, frozen in place.
Sarah jumped off the swing and ran toward them, her tiny arms outstretched. They scooped her up, laughing as they spun her around. They looked at Kaiser and extended their hands toward him, beckoning him closer.
But as Kaiser reached out, the world shifted. A wave of flames erupted from nowhere, consuming his parents and Sarah in an instant. The air filled with the acrid smell of burning flesh, and the joyful laughter twisted into agonized screams. When the flames died down, all that remained was a single, charred blue rose lying in the ashes.
Kaiser fell to his knees, his trembling hands picking up the rose. His voice broke as he muttered repeatedly, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… Please don't go… Please forgive me, Sarah…"
A voice, soft and childlike yet chilling, broke through the silence.
"Why did you kill me, big bro?"
Kaiser froze. Slowly, he turned to see Sarah standing behind him, but she was different. Her once-innocent eyes now glowed a menacing red, and a twisted, unnatural smile spread across her face.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why didn't you save me? Why did you let me die? Why didn't you protect me like you promised?"
Kaiser collapsed before her, his tears falling freely. "Please… forgive me… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
Her voice grew louder, more frenzied, the words pounding in his skull like a drumbeat. "Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy?"
Kaiser clutched his head, screaming in anguish.
With a strangled gasp, Kaiser bolted upright in his bed, his chest heaving. His hands trembled as they gripped the sweat-soaked sheets. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of a streetlamp outside.
He wiped his face and muttered, "Nine years… It's been nine years, and I still have the same damn nightmare."
The red glow of the alarm clock caught his eye. 4:35 AM.
"Too early to sleep. Too late to just sit here," he muttered. "Guess I'll go for a run."
Kaiser swung his legs off the bed and stood. As he walked to the bathroom, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. A tattoo wrapped around his neck, snaking down his arm and ending on his hand: a crown engulfed in flames.
His fingers brushed over another mark—a delicate blue rose inked onto his neck.
"Miss you, Sarah," he whispered before stepping into the shower.
The streets of Queens were quiet, save for the occasional car passing by. Kaiser jogged along the cracked sidewalks, his breath fogging in the cool morning air. Each step felt like a small escape, a fleeting moment where the weight of his guilt loosened its grip.
After his run, Kaiser changed into his Starbucks uniform and headed to work. The morning rush came quickly, customers pouring in with hurried orders and half-hearted pleasantries.
"Good morning, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get you?" Kaiser said, forcing a polite tone.
A woman with striking red hair approached the counter. Her emerald-green eyes met his as she said, "A venti cappuccino, please."
"That'll be $4.50," Kaiser replied. She handed him a five-dollar bill.
"Name?" he asked.
"Natalie," she said with a small smile before stepping aside to wait.
Kaiser scribbled her name on the cup and handed it to a coworker. As he watched her leave with her drink, a fleeting thought crossed his mind: She looks happy. Normal. What's that like?
After his shift, Kaiser returned home. The small, rundown apartment greeted him with silence. He made himself a bowl of instant ramen and sat on the couch, flipping through channels.
"Spider-Man defeats Rhino but leaves destruction in his wake," a news anchor reported.
Kaiser sighed. "This world keeps getting weirder."
He finished his food, cleaned up, and changed into an all-black outfit. The bouncer shift at the club awaited.
The night was loud and chaotic. Kaiser dragged a drunken patron out of the club, the man's slurred curses grating on his nerves.
When the man swung a wild punch, Kaiser caught it effortlessly, twisting the arm before shoving him to the pavement. The crowd outside laughed and jeered, and Kaiser returned to his post, expressionless.
By midnight, his second job called. Dressed in a black hoodie, Kaiser approached a metal door in a shadowed alleyway. He knocked twice.
The peephole slid open. "Password?"
"My soldier's rage," Kaiser replied.
The door creaked open, revealing an underground arena. The air smelled of sweat, blood, and cheap alcohol. In the pit, two mutants fought viciously—one with crocodilian features and the other wielding blade-like arms.
The announcer's voice boomed over the chaos. "WITH ANOTHER VICTORY, OUR CHAMPION: KILLER CROC!"
The crowd erupted as Killer Croc roared, his teeth glinting under the dim lights.
"And now, our next challenger! With a record of eight wins and zero losses: BLAZEEEEEEE!"
Kaiser pulled off his hoodie and stepped into the pit. The crowd cheered as he took his stance.
Killer Croc sneered. "Oh, a brat wants to die today."
Kaiser's stoic expression didn't falter. When Croc charged, Kaiser raised a hand, sending a wave of fire hurtling toward him. The blast sent Croc crashing into the wall, smoke rising from his singed scales.
But Croc wasn't done. "You'll regret that, kid!"
The fight raged on. Flames danced in the pit as Kaiser dodged Croc's brutal attacks, countering with precision. The crowd's roars grew deafening, their bloodlust insatiable.
Croc landed a devastating blow, slamming Kaiser into the wall. As Kaiser crumpled to the ground, Croc laughed cruelly.
"You pissed me off, brat. When I leave here, I'll find your family and feast on them."
Kaiser's body trembled—not with fear, but with fury. The air grew hotter, stifling. Flames engulfed him, and when they dissipated, his hair burned a vivid red, his eyes glowing with rage.
With a roar, Kaiser charged, his fist blazing. His punch tore through Croc's torso, leaving a gaping hole. Grabbing Croc's head, he unleashed a torrent of fire, reducing the champion to ash.
The arena fell silent before erupting into cheers.
"AND NEWWWW CHAMPION: BLAZEEEEEE!" the announcer screamed.
Kaiser grabbed his hoodie and a fat envelope of cash, slipping away into the night, but what he didn't notice and very short muscular man with a cowboy hat was watching him and he grabs his phone and says "Chuck I found something."
As he walked home, the adrenaline faded, replaced by exhaustion. A faint noise caught his attention—a pained groan from an alleyway.
He hesitated but turned toward the sound. A girl lay crumpled against the wall, her dark hair matted with blood.
Kaiser knelt, checking for a pulse. Suddenly, her hand shot up, gripping his wrist weakly.
Her bloodied face twisted into a scowl. "Why… help me?"
"Bleed out here if you want," Kaiser said evenly. "Or let me help."
She stared at him for a moment before her grip loosened. "Who… are you?"
"Michael Kaiser. You?"
"L-Laura… Kinney…"
Her eyes fluttered shut as she passed out.
Kaiser sighed, scooping her up carefully. "Nice name."