Jeremiah's POV

My keen ears picked up a noise not meant for the usually silent early morning; the distinct sound of shattering glass a few houses away. I groaned softly, sliding out of bed.

    Stupid home invaders, I thought. Like I wanted to get out of bed at midnight, sneak out of my house in the dark, and then kick the snot out of amateur criminals.

I slipped on my superhero suit and gave my reflection a thumbs-up in the mirror. Wearing my specialized high-heeled boots, I was roughly five-foot-eight. A forked lightning symbol adorned the torso.

    Static Steele, ready for action!

     I moved stealthily out the back door of my house and made my way onto the street. Unlike some other supers in Crane Creek, I didn't have the ability to fly, which was perfectly fine by me. Heights weren't exactly my forte.

    I spotted the place with the broken window and brazenly climbed through it, thankful for my suit's durable yet lightweight design.

A crowbar swung at my head seemingly out of nowhere. Using my magnetism powers, I yanked it from the grip of my attacker and took it into my own gloved hand. A man wearing all gray shimmered into the visible spectrum, looking absolutely baffled that he'd failed to hit me.

     "Really?" I chided. "Using a metal weapon against a magnetron isn't too bright of an idea, pal."

     I swung the crowbar towards the formerly invisible criminal. I struck him in the head, knocking him out.

     "That was way too easy." I muttered. "Where's the real challenge?"

    A soft, accented voice at my ear murmured, "Right next to you, hero."

    I kicked the speaker in the shin, then turned sharply and delivered one hell of an uppercut. At least, it would've been one hell of an uppercut if my fist had actually connected with my opponent's jaw, which it didn't.

    I hate fighting people above five-foot-six. Why can't the tall bad guys just shrink themselves in the wash? That'd make it so much easier to beat the crap out of them!

    Alas, super-criminals were usually very inconsiderate individuals who would likely object to being locked in a washing machine.

    I gave the villain a once-over. He was around six feet in height, clothed in a sleek super-suit. The main body of his costume was a deep shade of crimson, with black gloves, boots, and a belt of weapons. His mask covered the entire head and face, and embroidered fanged grin design reminded me of a horror movie from the 1990s.

    I did the natural thing. I looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

    He chuckled, a deeply foreboding sound coming from a man dressed like a murderous circus performer. "You know, you're funny. I'm sort of sorry I have to kill you."

    He stretched lazily. "Then again, you did knock out my friend back there, so I'm not that sorry. My name is Pariah. I'm new around here, so may I ask for an introduction?"

     "Static Steele." I replied, wondering why he was so chatty. "What a displeasure to meet you."

     I couldn't see his face behind the mask, obviously, but I assumed Pariah was smirking. "Nice footwear, by the way. Very fashionable."

     I clenched my fists. People always made fun of my shoes. "I'll have you know that these heels are very useful—"

     "Now, I'd like to fight you, Static Steele." Pariah interrupted in his Australian accent, pulling a knife carved from a green gemstone from a leather sheath at his waist. "But I have business with the occupant of this house."

     "Business involving bladed weapons?" I asked, raising my eyebrows even though he couldn't see the gesture behind my mask.

     Pariah hovered six inches above the ground. Then, faster than my eyes could process, he rocketed out of room, leaving a blur trailing in his wake.

     I chased after him, taking rapid strides until I found the villain in a bedroom, his knife pressed against a sleeping girl's throat.

    No time to waste. I hauled the girl from beneath her blankets and dumped her unceremoniously onto the floor, then backhanded Pariah in the face. As he staggered from the force of the blow, I kicked him in the gut with my heeled boot.

    "And that's what you get for mocking my shoes!" I snapped. I charged up my hands with electricity, letting a thousand volts race from the tip of my finger.

     Shockingly, Pariah dodged my electric attack. He shot up to me and grabbed me by the neck, locking me in place. He was a lot stronger than he looked, but then again, so was I.

    With a grunt, I slipped out of his hold and judo-flipped him. He landed flat on his back, groaning.

     A gloved hand gripped my leg like a vice. Suddenly, terror surged through my system. I felt as if I was falling from an airplane, though I knew my feet were still touching the ground. I froze momentarily, long enough for my foe to rise and grapple me.

     Pariah lifted me over his head, and in a panic, I lashed out. Unfortunately, I was out of striking distance.

    I shocked him, but I could feel my energy draining. He convulsed, letting me drop to the floor. I groaned, searching for an improvised weapon.

    There! On the bedside table, a compact lamp with a metallic pole. Using my magnetic abilities, I pulled the lamp towards me, and it connected directly with Pariah's face. The villain dropped me, clutching at his head. I wasted no time in sweeping his legs from underneath him.

     Pariah fumbled for his stone dagger, and I punched him in the ribs, hearing bone snap.

"You little ant!" He screeched, grabbing my wrist in a crushing hold.

    "This ant bites, you bastard." I hissed. I zapped him with enough power to knock him out. He convulsed for a moment, then went still.

    "Finally, he's down," I muttered, swaying on my feet with exhaustion.

    I moved to grab the unconscious supervillain, but a breathy voice whispered harshly, "Get out of here, now!"

I swiveled around to see the girl Pariah had
tried to murder. She had blizzard-blue eyes, dark wavy hair, and height-wise was a little bit shorter than me in my heels.

     "Quit checking me out," The girl hissed when she noticed me looking at her. "And scram before I call the authorities. My aunt is a police officer."

     I took a step backward. "For one thing, I was not checking you out. Secondly, I'm a completely legal superhero, and even if I wasn't, a whole squad of cops with assault rifles aren't even a threat to me."

    The girl scoffed. "Sure, and I'm Taylor Swift."

    "Don't make me regret saving your life." I snapped, getting ready to leave.

     "I can take care of myself," she retorted, stomping her foot.

    I threw my hands in the air. "You were sound asleep when this jackass—" I pointed at Pariah, who was still unconscious—"Held a knife over your throat. I'm not trying to sound self-righteous, but you'd be dead if I wasn't here."

    The girl rolled her gorgeous blue eyes. "Okay, you rescued the damsel in distress. Fine. Please leave."

    I sighed. "At least give me your name and phone number—in case you need me to zap this moron again." I said, adding on the last part in response to raised eyebrows.

     "Yeah, you're totally checking me out." She decided. "Isabelle's my name, what's yours?"

   "Static Steele," I responded.

    Isabelle shook her head. "No, your real name."

    I just laughed. "Seriously, I'm not that dumb. I wear a mask for a reason."

     She grinned. "It was worth a shot."

    She scrawled her phone number on a sticky note with a Sharpie, and I gave her mine verbally.

     "Only call when you're in danger." I told her seriously.

     Isabelle smiled a flirtatious kind of smile. "Got it. Catch ya later, Static Steele."

As soon as I got home, I wrote down the details of that whole encounter in my private journal with a grin on my face.

     This is going to be interesting.