This is for The Hero

Janitor's closet?

No, too obvious.

Office?

I'm not that much of a coward.

Bathroom?

I was running out of options, so I swiftly staggered towards the boys' bathroom while eyeing around the halls, looking for the fraternity men to be seeking me out anytime soon. I opened the door and quickly walked through the entrance while the door was still shutting.

"There he is! Pledge, you can't hide forever, you little bitch!"

Shit, caught again. They kept running down the hall and towards the bathroom, and soon enough, the door closed with the men nearly halfway down the hall. I was in for it now. Why the hell did I have to sign up to be part of the fraternity in the first place if I knew THIS was going to happen.

I was of knowing that it wouldn't help, but without thinking, I ran into the handicapped stall and quickly slammed it shut and pull the lock to the left and into place. The bathroom door creaked and hit the wall to the right of it, and the footsteps of the dreaded fraternity brothers came berating in.

"Check the stalls." There was a pause. "NOW, IDIOT!"

"Oh, me?"

"Who the fuck else is in here? Johnny Appleseed? Kick the doors in, dumbass!"

SLAM.

Damn, one out of four open.

"What the fuck, dude? I'm trying to take a piss!"

"Sorry, Brother Swadley."

One of the brothers was already in here? Damn it, I stepped into the wrong room again. I would have been better off in the janitor's closet...

SLAM.

Fuck, I was running out of time to think of something to do, but I had nothing to do but wait until they caught me.

SLAM.

I was done for.

SLAM.

"Gotcha, pledge." Head Brother Cooper, a.k.a Randal pulled me by the jacket out of the stall and into the wall to the right of the first sink in the room. A cold shiver of fright shivered down my spine of not only the pain that I was going to encounter, but how they were going to deal the pain.

"You stepped over the line this time, pledge. Now, it's time for the punishment ritual. I hope it was worth giving me a punch to the face."

I smiled. "It looks like the shiny black eye that is starting to grow is showing how much it was worth it. You and your stupid fraternity aren't worth my dignity."

"Your dignity isn't gonna be worth shit when I'm done with you. Herman, give me the stick. I don't think the brothers will scold me too hard for starting in early on him." Randal smiled, but then I noticed his hand go back towards Herman.

Randal stared at Herman. "The fucking stick, please?"

"Oh, you mean right now." Herman reached behind him to unclip a slender, black stick that was hanging from the back of his pants. He offered it to Randal. He snatched it from Herman's hand while staring him down for a slight second before turning to me and murmuring, "Dumbass."

Randal smiled at me. "Ready, pledge?"

"The name is Shane." I retorted, getting the best of the situation at hand while I was living. "Hopefully, you can at least get my name through your thick skull before you beat me to death."

"I'll show you a fucking thick skull!" He raised the stick up, and I ducked my head down. The stick hit the wall behind me, but still followed through and hit the back of my head hard enough for me to scream in pain.

"Yeah, you like that, pledge?"

A boom noise erupted from the bathroom, but the stick was not involved. I looked up and turned to the right to see where the noise's source came from to find that the whole right side of the wall was nearly cleared out. Tons of molecules of dust and dirt filled the room, leaving me blind and unable to see any of the brothers.

"The fuck is going on, Randal?" Swadley called out.

"I don't fucking know!" It was faint, but I heard a twinge of fear in his voice.

The air became clear and clean again, and a man in a uniform was staring right at the scene between Randal and I.

"Shit..." Herman muttered.

"It's..." Randal stuttered.

Superstition. The two lightning S's logo explained it all. I looked in awe at the figure in front of all of us.

He walked into Randal's personal space. "Let him go." Randal stayed in place.

"Now."

Randal swiftly let go of my jacket and walked out of the way, but Superstition yanked him by the collar and brought him back to his face. He looked down at the stick in Randal's hand.

Randal then became worried at what was in Superstition's sight, and he quickly interjected. "It's for something of my sister's."

Superstition immediately took the stick and slammed it down onto Randal's head, causing not only the stick to break in half, but making Randal fall to the ground like a vegetable.

He muttered, "Don't lie to me."

His vision took to the position of Swadley and Herman. Superstition took his hands and locked them into place to where Herman was frozen and poised the same as Superstition's hands. Swadley was the same for his right hand. He brought his hands together, and the two brothers slammed into each other against their will, leaving them to collapse on the linoleum floor.

"You."

He was pointing at me, and suddenly, I nearly lost my breath.

"Come here."

I was hesitant at first, but then I slowly walked near the figure, waiting for his next command.

I was in his personal space, so I immediately stopped in front of him, not wanting to piss him off. All of the sudden, his arms came around my waist, and he spontaneously flew up and through the bathroom's new hole in the wall. He flew higher and over the college until we floated above the main building.

"Are you okay?" Superstition asked.

"Yeah. You know, assholes will be assholes." I smirked, and Superstition let out a little chuckle. His light green eyes and his light brown faux hawk were completely handsome, and I found him nearly irresistible. His light face looked amazing as it went with the rest of the slender body of his in his navy blue uniform.

I began to see myself not thinking clearly again, and I began to close the space between our faces. My lips were so close to his that I could feel his breath, and it drove me mad.

"May I?" I whispered.

"Go ahead."

I then put my hand onto his face, and I lightly-

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BE-

I slammed the snooze button on my alarm, making it shut up. That goddamn cockblock alarm clock did it again.

I looked at the time, and it read six forty-five. I flipped the covers off of me and I began to grab my essentials for my shower.

"One venti pumpkin spice latte, please?" I asked.

"Coming right up, sir. That'll be $7.54." The cashier said.

I pulled out my wallet and gave her a ten. "Keep the change." I smiled.

I took a seat near the pick-up line, waiting for them to call out my order. They needed to hurry, though, or else I was going to be late for my first class.

The name is Shane Davies, and I'm a nineteen year old freshman at Barcarole University, where the tuition is cheap, and so is the education. I wouldn't doubt it if we were the worst college in the nation.

Not only are the teachers here horrible, but the students are, too. Everyone that comes here is a disobedient prick and doesn't give a rat's ass about learning for their future. The only reason, though, that people go here instead of a different place is one thing and one thing only.

Superstition. The town and nation's one and only hero that subsides in my city, Springside, New York. Sure, it may be a cow town, but it still has certain things to offer like forty acres of wheat fields, a landfill, and a Motel 6.

Sorry, excuse my sarcasm. Either way, Superstition is basically the only attraction to this dump, and even then, he only comes out long enough to stop the crime that goes down here in Springside. After that, he disappears into darkness and never becomes out until the next bank heist.

Though, I'm pretty sure the only reason crime happens here is because criminals want to be able to say that they saw Superstition in the flesh. Even if you ask criminals how Superstition looks, they all have their own representation of him, so technically, no one knows how he looks except for his navy blue, black, and white uniform with a double 'S' lightning bolt insignia that he wears on his chest.

Don't get me wrong, I've been curious every now and then to what he looks like, but I don't obsess unlike certain people in my college. Almost everyone has his insignia on their binder, and the super idiots make their own Superstition uniforms. It makes me wonder why I haven't moved away.

"Venti pumpkin spice latte!"

That's me. I checked the time.

Seven thirty.

Shit, I was going to be late! I ran to the counter to grab my drink and ran through the front door to my car.

"Now, class, open your Twelfth Night copies to Act Three, Scene Two. We left off where Duke Orsino..."

This is when I zone out, usually. I may love this Shakespeare play, but my English professor is annoying as hell and does nothing but ramble until it is time for him to let us walk to our next class.

I took out my sketch pad and pencil to finish the final touches on my custom Superstition insignia. I had always had a certain attraction to the symbol because of the simplicity to it. Every other superhero in the comics have had a certain twist to their symbol, but Superstition's was the outlier. Two slender and sharp S's nearly touching each other. It's almost as simple as it can get.

I had to bold the pieces of debris that were in the air for the wall that the insignia had crushed down, and I had to outline and color in the S's with a metallic silver Sharpie to make it pop out of the dark background surrounding it. I would have included raindrops in the sketch, but I think it would have ruined the picture.

It wasn't long until started to feel drowsy, and soon enough I closed my finished picture and the English teacher's voice began to fade away while I substituted my sketch pad for a pillow. Thank God I sat in a spot that he couldn't notice me in.