Crimson Blade Bloody Beginnings

Name: Corinthia Grimes

Code Name: Crimson Blade

Faction: Hero City Rejects

What does it mean to be a hero? Apparently it means using your powers to oppress and manipulate society for personal gain. That’s why I never bought into the whole ”hero” trope.  They wanted you to believe that they were here to save you. That the only thing that drives them is ensuring that justice thrives and evil doers scamper off in fear of their all encompassing righteousness. Heroes want you to believe that they’re…good. But I knew better. I had lost too much to believe their lies anymore.

With the emergence of heroes, you would believe that society as a whole would improve. But it seemed that the existence of super powers only further divided the world into two categories. The haves and the have-nots. Racism, Sexism, and other forms of discrimination still persisted. But now you also had to worry about people discriminating against you because of your powers, or the lack their of.

Anyone with powers was considered awakened. A very simple term to loosely classify anyone who was anything more than homo sapien. But not all powers were created equal and it took almost no time at all for the government to find a way to classify and register powers in a way that made it easy for people to be marginalized. High tier awakened humans are the one’s best suited for hero work. They’re recruited by Hero academies at a young age. Sought after by Hero  Agencies, they receive sponsors, commercials, and all the luxury that is considered suitable for the pinnacle of human society.

Mid-tier akwakened humans have the ability to be heroes, though usually for lesser crimes. They’re best suited for side kick and support roles. But overall they’re seen as individuals with abilities that are overall beneficial to society as a whole. Need a fire put out or need someone to pull a kid out of a well. That’s who you would call. The Top tier heroes are usually too busy to deal with stuff like that, so it’s passed down the awakened ladder to those with abilities less suitable for the big jobs.

Low tier enhanced humans are those who have abilities that are not seen as benefiicial for hero work and are less desireable for public use. This was where my parents fell. Lower tier means that your ability to find meaningful work is much harder. In a super powered society, power is currency. If you don’t have it, then your means of making money is compromised. But my parents were good people who worked hard and did what they could to take care of my brother and I. We were all they had in this world and they were all we had. But for us, that was more than enough.

I was seven  years old when a villain by the name of Devastator was wrecking District 5 of Hero city. The same District 5 that my family and I called home. In those days I was more naive. I, like most children, looked up to the heroes in capes and couldn’t wait until the day that my own powers manifested. So imagine my surprise when Major Might, a lesser hero whose prime ended nearly two decades ago, while battling Devastator threw a car into our house. Devastator was unharmed. My parents were not.

My tiny hands clawed at the massive vehicle. Praying that I would somehow manifest super strength or telekinesis or something that would allow me to be able to lift the crumpled vehicle off of my parents. Their blood stained my hands as my mom begged me to run to safety. I could see the fear in her eyes as she pleaded with me to leave without them.

In my mind everything would be ok if I could just get a hero to come help us. Because that’s what heroes do. They help people. Then suddenly, as if to answer my prayers, Major Might dropped down into the hole in the roof of our house. I had been crying so hard that my throat had nearly siezed up making it nearly impossible to ask him for the help that we desperately needed. But I finally managed to squeak out the words, “Save them…please!”

Major might’s eyes scanned the scene of destruction in front of him. His eyes fell to my tiny frame. A little black girl with braided pigtails covered in dust. He looked past me at the crumpled vehicle that was now occupying the space that used to be our kitchen. I saw his eyes study my parents who were still bleeding out from underneath the vehicle. I waited for him to dash into action. For him to use whatever powers the fates had blessed him with to save my parents and do what heroes do. But he didnt. He didn’t move at all. Instead he turned from us and said four words. Four words that I will never forget. “Shit…I missed him” before flying back out of the hole that he created in our home and disappearing into sky.

It took an hour for police to show up on the scene. By the time they did, my parents were gone. My father had died nearly instantaneously from the impact. My mother bled out minutes later. I cried until my tear ducts burned. That painful memory forever etched into the core of my being. My heart ached for the parents I lost. That suffering became the hands that molded me into who I am today.

Those with the genetic capability to express powers, or awakened humans, typically begin to exhibit these powers at around 12 years old. A few of them begin to show promise before, but most happen around that age.  But for me, age 12  would be when I decided to end my life. I was resolved to do it. I waited until I was alone, then I took a broken piece of glass and ran it across my wrist. The pain was excruciating and I knew that the pain would finally be coming to an end. But it was then I realized what my power was. The blood from my wrist did not flow freely. But instead danced slowly before my eyes in the air. That’s when it became evident. I didn’t really want to die. The truth was I just wanted the pain to stop. I forced the blood back into my body and watched as my wounds slowly began to heal. I could control blood.

Hematokinesis isn’t exactly an ability that a hero would have typically. I didn’t even really consider myself a hero anyways. But I was someone who had a calling. My experience with my parents sparked something within me that made me violently angry. That anger needed a home. So i trained myself to become an agent of vengeance. Destiny never intended for me to be a traditional hero. But that was ok. Because my brand of Justice was more effective anyway.