Authors note:

Some more mature stuff in this chapter, including some gore, violence, drug use, etc.

Over 27 years ago:

A drug addict and her loyal husband found out they were expecting a child, “Hun, you should really cut back on the smoking, it's dangerous for the baby.” her husband tried to reason with her, he really did.

“Can it Harold, you know I only do this so I won't shoot up anymore.” she lied.

During the day when her husband was at work, pulling at least six, ten hour shifts a week, the woman was doing more than just smoking.

She was using drugs, drinking an average of seventeen bottles of beer a day, on top of the occasional shot of whiskey or bourbon with her daily glass of red wine, she knew it was probably not good for the children she was carrying, but she didn't really care.

The addict was a street walker on nights her husband was working the graveyard shift, she took up the sport due to the drug addiction that she was hiding from her husband mostly, also because she felt that her husband was neglecting his husbandly duties.

Before she knew it, she was in debt over her addiction, this led to her husband’s early, unexpected and unnecessary demise just three weeks before she was due, they shot him in front of her as a warning to pay up or be taken out.

The men who shot her husband retrieved the bullet from his head in front of her before they left, to make sure once she reported the murder that they wouldn't be found after the police started to investigate the murder.

When the day came for her to give birth, reality hit her, all of the bad decisions she made during her pregnancy led her to being in the hospital room without her husband to help her through it.

The first child came, but it did not cry, a nurse was quickly ordered to take him out of the room, a second child came, this child cried, but the bad decisions in her mother's life led to the baby girl being deformed, only having one leg and only part of the other, on top of the baby boy being stillborn.

First thing the mother did upon giving birth was leaving the county since she was still in debt, with fear they would find her child, she gave her a last name that wasn't her own, a first name that meant worthy, a middle and last that when combined meant fighter woman, little to her knowledge, this beautiful and meaningful Latin name would soon be forgotten by the young girl for many years.

Unable to actually crawl correctly until she was of four years old, this led to the girls mother yet again falling into her old habits.

Bad habits took hold, the girls mother was absent most of her younger life, in debt once again, this time, unable to run and hide.

Through her first years of school, teachers pitied her, kids called her names, the adults all around that her mother would often bring to their house would do both, emotionally the girl was broken because her body was too.

Eventually, the girl set her mind to do something greater, something to allow her to fit in with her peers, something that would allow her to walk, dance, run, swim, do all of the things she never could, she made her mind up when she turned eight, things would change, and she was going to make sure of it, “After I'm done, no one will call me a freak again.” she vowed to herself.

Around 17 years ago:

The girl, now ten years old was being shoved behind the couch, “Come on Sweetie, it won't be long, just stay right there, stay quiet, and don't move no matter what you hear.” her mother said, before pushing the couch back closer to the wall just enough to hide the girl.

Knocking continued, “Open the hell up Susan, you owe us you bitch!” a mans voice bellowed.

“Coming!” the sudden sound of the door being forced open seconds later startled the girl cowering behind the couch, a simple click echoed through the room.

“Where's your daughter, she's coming with us if you don't have the money now.” the mans voice was louder now since he was inside.

“I sent her away, because I knew you'd be coming.” the girls mother lied, three sets of heavy footsteps now told the girl that the man who was speaking had friends.

“I guess that means we gotta kill you then, ain't that right boys?” he laughed, being joined by the other two mens bellowing laughter.

“Where's your purse bright eyes?” he asked calmly as she gasped, the barrel of his gun was against her temple.

“On- on the counter, righ- right there.” she pointed.

The man stepped closer to the woman before motioning toward the counter, “Frank, grab it.” he commanded.

A gunshot rang out, “Do you really think she sent the little one legged freak away?” one of the voices asked.

“Why wouldn't she?” the first voice started, “I wouldn't want that ugly freak anywhere near me either.” laughter broke out between the men.

They kept saying things along those lines while they opened drawers and cabinets in search for things to take, until they left, the girl just sat behind the couch in fetal position as tears rolled down her cheeks silently.

That night ended after the men had been long gone, the girl came out of her hiding place to find the contents of her mother's purse dumped onto the floor and scattered carelessly, blood splatter covering most of the stuff, a pool of blood still stood in the middle of the floor, she knew exactly what happened.

She was mature for her age, mostly due to the bullying she endured daily, she was much more grown and educated than any ten year old should ever be, even her therapists agreed, it was too early in her life for her to know the things she knew, and understand things so clearly.

She knew the men would never be caught, men like that never were, so she did exactly what she had planned to do if her mother's habits led to her untimely demise.

Being of the same height and general size as her mother, she took up her mothers name.

She packed necessities, grabbed the remaining contents of her mother's purse, careful not to get blood on her, she then ran into her mothers room, grabbing her mothers journal, “One last thing.” she muttered before going into her own room to grab her birth certificate, and a single ring from her nightstand.

Before sunlight touched the grass in front of her home, the girl was long gone, never to return, now her journey began, the second identity of many, that she would claim as her own.

That day, that ten year old who was hiding behind the couch while her mother was killed in the same room, became her mother by name and legal documentation, Susan Rodney a middle aged widow, high school graduate, a woman determined to be more than the real Susan Rodney ever was.

13 years ago:

Now the fourteen year old was working two jobs as Susan Rodney, a librarian three days of the week, also working at a junkyard three days a week, she took the jobs mainly for the resources she could use from them.

During her job at the junkyard, she would often sneak small bits of metal or random bolts away, her boss was never around and she was his only employee on the days she was there so sneaking a square foot or so of metal from a car door was simple, the hardest part to sneak off with was a car hood

Susan used her time working in the library to scope out any and all books about certain topics, like human anatomy, medical procedures, and mechanical engineering, all with the hope to one day walk normally without a makeshift leg made from an old broom handle, several towels and a bunch of surgical tape, taken from the local hospital that she was an unpaid intern at.

With the metal and bolts she acquired from the junkyard, surgical tools she acquired from the hospital and knowledge from the books at the library, she began to build something she worked so hard to finally start creating.

Months of late nights and little sleep finally paid off, she now had a functional limb built in front of her, gears, pulleys and surgical thread inside to allow it to function after she connected it to the muscles in her leg.

Shortly after realising her leg was nearly completed, she started to sneak out medicine from the hospital, little at a time, she knew she would need painkillers, possibly antibiotics, so she took what she thought she would need.

She alerted everyone she worked for that she would probably be out for at least a few months, then the gruesome scene played out, where she performed surgery on herself, connecting the first section of her homemade leg to her thigh.

It was painful even with the insane amount of muscle relaxers she took beforehand, dangerously with an adrenaline shot to keep her awake and alert enough to get the job done, she used her bathtub as the operating room in order to contain the blood she would lose.

Thankfully she also thought ahead enough to bring home a bag of blood for afterwards, otherwise she would've possibily passed out from a lack of blood and died before she could even finish her little futuristic frankenstein experiment.

Hours later she was finally finished, she was still alive, and not bleeding as much, so since the adrenaline shot was quickly wearing off, she decided to spend the night in the bathtub.

Susan woke up to the sound of her cell phone vibrating on the bathroom tiles, “Damn it!” as soon as she reached for her phone pain shot through her leg reminding her that she had actually done what she had been planning for years, the happiness almost made the pain worth it.

Her phone stopped vibrating shortly before she could grab it, so with a painful moan she flopped back into the bathtub to rinse the blood off of her hands from the previous nights activities.

As soon as the blood was rinsed away, Susan immediately grabbed one of the painkillers from the floor where she had laid them before the experimental procedure she just woke up from.

Around half an hour later the pain finally subsided enough for Susan to make her way out of the tub, she was used to hopping on one leg through her house to get places without a cane or crutches like she had to for the first ten or so years of her life.

As soon as her actual foot touched the floor, she knew she would have to adjust to the weight of her new limbs first attached section while it healed enough for her to add the remaining sections.

In order to get around for the first few days she had to use a cane to balance herself, she had to change the bandages at least twice a day, it was a real struggle since she had no one to help her, but with the knowledge she had of everything, she somehow managed to work through it all by herself.

12 years ago/Around 8 months after the procedure:

Susan had just attached the last section of her makeshift limb successfully before adjusting the leather belt around her waist to keep the leg in place, “Now lets see if I can actually use this thing.” she said as she flopped her legs over the side of the bed, before she tried to walk, she flexed the muscles in her leg one by one to see if the joints would work properly.

Joy overcome her as she seen the ankle joint move accordingly, next she tried the knee, a little difficult at first but it worked once she got the hang of it, next the tip of the makeshift foot, it took a second to use the right muscle to move it as if she were on tiptoes, “So far, so good, no pain, joints are working much better than planned.” she wrote in her mother's old journal, taking it as her own little story, the prologue in her mother's writing, the real story in hers.

Next she tested herself, standing on her new limb, she stood still, amazed that she had finally did it, while still standing she wrote once again, “Able to stand accordingly, next to test my ability to walk.” she laid the book down, before attempting to walk she grabbed the cane she so often had to use for assistance, “If this works, I get to throw you away.” she joked to herself as she looked at the cane.

Another authors note:

I probably won't stick to a posting schedule with this fiction as much as I try to do wih my others, granted I may try to, but I can't promise it will actually happen.
BTW I'm sorry this chapter is just back story, no Marvel or DC characters popped up, but no worries, next chapter you'll see a familiar name or two. ☺
If all goes as planned, this will tie into a later story with at least two other fanfictions I have planned, after I finish it anyway.