Deadly Revenge
an excerpt

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a superhero? Dreamt about having secret powers, enhanced abilities, and the skills to know every form of hand-to-hand combat known to mankind?

Sure you have. What kid hasn’t? But what if you actually had those powers? What if you were able to fly and to do the things that other superheroes do? Along with the great things a superhero can achieve, you have to take into consideration the dangers you would face as well. The dangers such as if who you are is revealed, or, what kinds of things you do under your own name.

There have always been rumours about how one becomes a superhero. Some say it’s genetic, others say they’re all from other planets, and often it is blamed on chemicals genetically mutating someone. The truth is that it is nothing more than a genetic mutation, one that cannot be tracked, and has nothing to show whether or not it is hereditary. It is simply there. Some believe it’s a curse, others believe that it’s a blessing.

Personally, I believe it’s both.

It’s difficult to determine whether or not one would want to keep those powers hidden, and who you would want to hide them from.

I developed mine when I was nine years old, and since then, my life has been full of chaos, lies, and the odd chance to make this world a better place.

My twin brother also developed his powers at the same time, and together, we did what any nine year olds would do – we went on an adventure. An adventure that at the time, we had no idea how dangerous it truly was.

But that’s not important, at least, not right now. The only importance it holds is for a tale of the past, to tell you our story. But our story merely begins with that moment in time, it doesn’t end there. Not even close.

You know me as Black Shadow, superhero extraordinaire. I fly around in a black leather suit, with a long, rich purple cape, and long, black boots. My weapons of choice are a whip and a crossbow, but I prefer hand-to-hand combat. I’ve never liked the idea of taking out an unarmed enemy with a weapon.

My twin brother, you know as simply a teammate. Our faces are always covered, so telling we are related is impossible. You call him by the name Shiver, and recognize him as a young man who wears a replica of Tuxedo Mask’s costume from Sailor Moon. His weapons of choice are a silver rapier and ninja stars. Don’t ask how the two go together, as I’m still unsure of it myself.

But in reality, we are just like you, minus the powers. We go to school, we have friends and a family, and we try our best to be part of the world. In fact, I’m sure some of you know us pretty well. There’s a good chance, someone out there reading this was one of our best friends, and you never knew. Does it hurt you that we couldn’t tell you? If it does, I apologize. The danger not only our lives would be in, but your lives as well if you knew the truth about us would have been immense.

My name is Amy Alden, and my twin’s name is Jake. We are both sixteen years old, and live in Chicago, a city of mob bosses, mafia scandals, extortion, and anything else under the sun.

We are the hand of the law in this city. Strange, one would think, that two sixteen year olds are called upon to defend such a large and dangerous city, but when you’re as skilled as we are, their logic in that choice is proven to be pretty solid.

But before we get into the story, we need to go back to the beginning, to what started it all.

Imagine being nine years old, an age where unicorns still exist, and Santa Claus still comes down your chimney every year. An age where you normally simply dream about being able to be your own superhero and have super powers.

That was when our powers began to show up. Jake discovered he could push things with gusts of wind, and would wake up at night hovering over his bed. He couldn’t fly, though he tried many times, but could hover for short periods, and jump incredibly high and for great distances. I discovered, much to Jake’s disappointment, that I did have the ability to fly, and along with that, when I focused, I had super-hearing. I was able to move quicker, with more agility, found that the world would slow down slightly as I moved, giving me time to calculate what I wanted to do.

Being the age we were the seriousness of the responsibility and the reality of these powers never quite hit us. We decided to keep it our little secret, something special for us to share. We developed a game where we would create scenarios that required us to be the superheroes and save the world. We would pick out suspicious characters, and follow them around crafting tales of crime and terror.

It seemed too perfect the day we came across a man who looked as if he belonged in the Mafia. We should have clued in when we discovered he was called ‘Fat Pete’, but when you’re nine, things like that escape your logical line of thought.

To make a long story short, we were not very good at concealing ourselves, and ended up being caught by Fat Pete and a few of his buddies, who turned out to be from the Mafia. A gang called the Crimson Petals, to be exact, run by a man called Don Alberto. While playing our game we had stumbled into one of their biggest operations they’d had in years. A cocaine deal that would have made Don Alberto the top mob boss in Chicago. A job that we botched up when we managed to escape and help hold his men until the cops showed up, putting him in jail.

The cops were astounded that two kids were able to manage all that, and things grew worse as we found out that the cocaine run was actually a front for their assistance with a terrorist cell. Enter the CIA. They were awefully curious about how a couple of kids from downtown Chicago were able to take out a man as powerful as Don Alberto.

Of course, Alberto’s men talked about these demon children, children who could make things happen, and that piqued the CIA’s interest even further. We were brought in, and well, confessed to these powers we had.

Since then we’ve been trained and provided with whatever we needed. It was clear we were what the CIA was looking for.

Our parents? They still have no idea. Not a clue what their kids are up to, and we intend to keep it that way. Its not that we don’t trust our parents knowing, but we knew they would never allow us to do what the CIA asked of us. The cover they know of is simply that because of what we did, we were ‘adopted’ by the CIA as future trainees and given full scholarships to Quantico, which we could use upon our High School graduation. Mom never liked it, dad thought it was fabulous. The scholarship cover provided the CIA with the opportunity to train us properly.

So here we are, seven years later, sixteen years old, and the deadliest beings amongst the living. The only people aware of our dual existence are those with the clearance to be involved in our lives. Otherwise, we simply disappear once our deeds are done.

The best part? We are the law. We are the judge, and we are the jury. Every action we make against criminals is justified by our employment, and no-one can say a damned thing about it. Because the only ones who know we are weapons of the government are ourselves, and the CIA.