Chapter Three

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Dedicated to Janelle07 for the fabulous trailer to the side! Thank you for your ever-lasting support!

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The next morning, as soon as I got to school, the first thing I did was make my way to the newspaper office I had been working in since sophomore year.

            I'd always enjoyed writing, and once my English teachers had read my essays, they suggested the newspaper office for me. It was a good extra-curricula, and it gave me extra credit, which was something I desperately needed. The cheerleading squad gave a fair amount, but if my grades failed, I needed something else to fall back on.

            That's where I'd first become proper friends with Chloe. The newspaper was a closely-knit group consisting of myself and Chloe—the main writers—and Oscar and Grayson, the photographers. Then there was Keeley, the editor, and finally the official proofreader, Allison. In order to get a monthly newspaper out, we needed to spend a lot of time together, and I considered them all as my best friends, with Chloe ranking at the top.

            But now, as I walked into the newspaper office, I saw that it was deserted besides myself and Chloe, who sat at the desk typing away and sipping coffee from a steaming cup.

"Morning!" I called, shucking out of my coat so that I was only dressed in a pink blouse and a pair of jeans.

She looked up with a smile. "Morning, Vi!" she chirped cheerily, holding out a plastic cup. "I went to Gauche this morning and picked up a vanilla soy latte for you, just the way you like it."

"Thanks," I replied uncertainly, grabbing the cup off of her. She never brought me coffee. "Why are you so chirpy this morning?"

She shrugged. "Because we're catching The Voiceless Stranger, of course."

"The Black Phoenix," I replied.

She frowned. "What?"

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Uh... he prefers The Black Phoenix," I explained, sitting down at the desk across from her and logging in to the newspaper domain on the computer.

"How do you know?" she replied, but not in a rude way.

"Because... he told me," I said nonchalantly, shrugging.

"You talked about his super-villain name?" she replied dubiously. "What, are you guys in cahoots? Don't tell me you've joined his plight for world domination."

            "He's not a villain, Chloe," I replied. "He's a good guy. A guardian angel."

            "How can you be so sure?"

            "Because if he was a bad guy, he wouldn't have saved me," I told her simply, and it was true. If he were a villain like the town thought he was, why would he go to such extremes to protect me?

            "Okay, I admit, that is puzzling," Chloe mused, tapping her chin with her index finger as she mulled it through. "Maybe he's just trying to clear his name so that he can gain our trust."

            "Chloe, tell me, if I had've fallen off of my roof and he hadn't saved me, would anyone really suspect that it was his fault? I haven't told anyone besides you, my parents, and the doctor that he saved me when I fell off the roof. If he were really out to clear his name, he would've done something more drastic."

            She sighed. "Fine. Guess I'll just have to prove to you that he's not the saint you think he is."

            "Okay," I replied, clicking onto a new search browser and typing in 'The Voiceless Stranger.'

            We spent the next thirty minutes scanning news articles and gathering as much information about the mysterious hero as we could. So far we'd only come up with common knowledge; you know, the mask, the costume, his MO.

            "Nothing," Chloe replied as the bell rang overhead. "All of that research turned up nothing!"

            "We'll find something," I replied, though the truth was I was a little frustrated, too. "I mean, everyone screws up. He can't be that good at hiding from the press, right? Journalists always dig up something, no matter how hard you fight to keep it buried."

            I logged off and turned off the computer, standing up and making my way towards my first class. I couldn't help but wonder when he was going to turn up again. Would his visits be regular? I had seen him twice in two days so far, and the second time he wasn't even needed. Was there a reason?

            I was so preoccupied within my own thoughts that I didn't even see him coming my way until we crashed into each other. I let out a surprised yelp as I fell to the ground, and let out a low groan as pain rocketed up my tailbone.

            "Ouch," I muttered, stumbling to my feet.

            "Sorry," a familiar male voice said, and I looked up to see Colton sprawled a few feet away from me. He slowly got to his feet and bent down, helping me to pick up my books. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

            I shook my head. "My fault."

            He finished picking up my books and handed them to me, and I took them, shooting him a grateful grin. "Thanks, Colt."

            "Wow," he said. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

            We used to always have nicknames for each other. His for me was 'V' and mine for him was 'Colt.' Using the extra syllable in Colton seemed like a waste, so I had shortened it, though no one else ever did.

            "Yeah," I replied, flashing him a small smile. I looked around the halls, which were quickly becoming deserted. "Well, I should get going. Don't wanna be late for class."

            He stood up straight with a groan and dusted himself off. "Sorry once again," he said, and I shoo my head.

            "Like I said, my fault," I answered.

            "I'll see you later, V." He smiled one last time before sliding past me and moving off to class.

            I stared after him for a few moments, before shaking my head and spinning around. I didn't want to be late for class.

            ~          *          ~

            That afternoon, after an hour of searching through articles about The Voiceless Stranger on my laptop and coming up with absolutely nothing, I decided it was enough researching for the day, and climbed onto my roof with a book to read. I lay against the tiles as my eyes skimmed the pages.

            "Try not to fall off the roof this time. I've had a long afternoon and I don't feel like saving a pretty girl from becoming a pancake on the pavement."

            I jumped at the unexpected voice and turned to the black-clad figure that had mysteriously appeared beside me. "Maybe I wouldn't fall off the roof if you didn't come up and scare me like that."

            He shrugged. "My bad. Next time I'll knock." He looked at the open area of my roof. "Oh, wait..."

            I punched him in the shoulder. "Shut up."

            As my fist came into contact with his muscle, I let out a yelp. It was like I had punched a brick wall. I mean, I knew he had super-strength, but that was incredible. I might as well have dove fist-first into concrete.

            I shook out my fist, and a look of worry flickered across the exposed part of his face. "Are you okay?"

            "What the hell do you have under that suit?" I muttered as my fist gave out angry throbs and turned red. Already it was beginning to bruise and swell.

            He smirked. "Would it make you feel better if I said bionic armor?"

            "I don't think anything would make me feel better," I replied, glaring at my injured fist. "I swear, I think I broke a finger or two."

            He looked around, before grabbing my hand. I jumped suddenly at the contact. "What...?"

            I stopped suddenly as the pain slowly subsided from my fist, and stared up at him in wonderment as he let go. My hand was now good as new, and there wasn't even a red mark left to show I'd even hurt it in the first place.

            "How did you do that?" I whispered breathlessly.

            "How do you think all of the people I save come out of it unscathed?" he replied.

            "So you have healing powers?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. I didn't want to act like a crazed fangirl and scare him off.

            "Yup. I can heal anything from a mosquito bite to a bullet wound," he answered, though he didn't sound like he was bragging. Nothing he did ever seemed like bragging.

            "What about terminal illnesses like cancer?"

            He shook his head. "No. That's the one thing I can't save. I can only help inflicted wounds, not ones that your own body has created." A crooked smile overtook his features. "So try not to get cancer on me, okay?"

            I smiled. "I'll do my best." My investigative side came out. "So... what powers do you have?"

            "Healing, flying, I can run fast, bulletproof skin, X-ray vision, compulsion..." he listed.

            I looked down at my shirt, before meeting his eyes with a questioning look on my face, and, to my surprise, he blushed. Yes. I made the almighty and powerful Voiceless Stranger blush.

            "Yes," he answered eventually, seeming embarrassed by the whole fact. "I can see through clothes. But I don't."

            I felt relief upon hearing that. "Good. But with the whole compulsion thing... You mean you can, like, control their mind?"

            He shrugged. "Yeah. But I won't do it to you. If you don't want me to."

            I shook my head resolutely. "No, thanks," I told him. "Anyway, what about weaknesses?"

            "Pretty girls," he answered easily, barely even wasting a second in giving his sardonic answer.

            I rolled my eyes. "How long have you been waiting to use that line?"

            "A while," he answered. "But I'd like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to use it."

            I shrugged. "What kind of girl would I be if I didn't at least give you a chance to use a good pickup line?"

            He wiggled his eyebrows. "Did it work?"

            "You might have to try harder," I replied.

            "Damn," he muttered, and I let out a laugh.

            "You know, you're not the person everyone thinks you are," I murmured, looking at the sky. It was darkening to twilight now, and the dusk was lilac and orange. "You're a good guy."

            "How are you so sure?" he replied. "You barely know me. I could just be your stalker with superpowers. I know where you live; I know your name. Doesn't that freak you out?"

            "You can fly and heal wounds," I replied, laughing at that idea. "I think we're a little bit past the point of freaking out."

            "Still. Aren't you scared?"

            I stared into his dark eyes. Somehow they were shaded by the mask, meaning I couldn't distinguish the color. Maybe if I were able to, it would make it easier to identify him. "Tell me, Voiceless Stranger, do I need to be scared of you?"

            "Black Phoenix," he replied.

            I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Black Phoenix, should I be scared of you?"

            He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't want you to be."

            "You save people's lives," I replied. "You saved my life. I think that counts for something."

            "I wasn't going to let you die," he replied, as if it were obvious. "I mean, I would've been the reason you died, anyway."

            "Who are you, Black Phoenix?" I asked, staring into his eyes. "Behind the mask and the costume and the superpowers.... Who are you really?"

            "A science experiment gone wrong," he answered, shrugging. "It doesn't matter who I am behind that. I'm a scientific anomaly that shouldn't be here. Does it really matter what else I am besides that?"

            "Yes," I replied, frowning. "Of course it matters. Do you really only wanna be known as The Voiceless Stranger or The Black Phoenix or whatever? Don't you wanna be something more than that? Maybe you're a scientific experiment, but I'm almost certain there's something human about you. What is it?"

            "I have killer good looks," he answered.

            I rolled my eyes, though I could tell the only reason he was joking around was because he didn't want to tell the truth. He was trying to avoid the subject, and I had to respect that. We'd only known each other three days. Was I really expecting him to spill all of his secrets to a girl he barely knew? A petty high school girl, at that.

            I stood up, grabbing my book and dusting off my jeans. I walked back to the ledge that led into my window, turning around to look at him. He was stood up now as well, watching me leave.

            "You're not the bad guy everyone says you are," I said, staring into his eyes and shaking my head gently. "I don't believe that."

            "Tell that to the rest of your town."

            I nodded. "I will. But I know the truth about you."

            "Yeah? And what's that?"

            I shook my head. "I'll tell you that when you tell me your name."

            He pouted. "Well, that's hardly fair."

            I smiled. "You're not a bad guy, you know. I believe there's something good inside you. Maybe you should try to believe that, too."

            I slipped through my window and knelt on my window seat, hands poised and ready to close my window. Just before I did, I looked at him one last time. "Don't let what you are affect who you are. You're still human, Mystery Man. And a good one, at that. And I'm going to do my best to make sure everyone else knows that, too. I believe in you."

            "You hardly know me," he replied.

            "I've known you a lot longer than you've known me," I responded.

            "I highly doubt that," he promised me.

            "I don't have to know you to know you're a good person. I'm a good judge of character. And if my gut instinct says you're a good person, then I'm gonna go with that. I know you're a good person. I just think you should know that, too."

            I shut the window and then my blind, sealing myself off from the superhero outside my window.

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