Stephen woke up early one morning going outside to milk the cows. He lived in a humble farmhouse with his father. His mother had past away of the flu because she was against vaccinations and they weren’t around many people to get immune to it through them. Stephen worked extra hard to help support his Dad, becoming mostly mature at age eight. He was a hard-working teen, not really fitting in with most 18 year-olds.
He was outside in the barn milking the cows when it happened. It was a cloudy day, the mist of the morning thick in the fields. While Stephen was milking their last cow, his favorite one named Betty, he heard a rumble in the distance. He stepped outside the barn, jugs of milk in hand. He was only about five paces away from his house when an explosion hit the ground nearby, knocking him off of his feet. It took him a few minutes, but he was able to get up onto his feet. His Dad came running outside just as he got up. Stephen was glad to see his Dad. He fell into his arms feeling dizzy and a bit nauseous. His Dad laid him on the ground, leaving him to go get some medicine. He knew this day would come eventually, he even had a survival kit bag he had packed for this day. Stephen tried to sit up, he needed to get his bag. Just as he got onto his feet again, feeling even more nauseous, his house exploded… with his father still inside.
Stephen couldn’t remember much after that. Everything he was able to remember was the extreme pain he felt from being thrown again from the explosion, but especially from his father’s death. He couldn’t imagine what he was going to do with the rest of his life, but he wasn’t thinking about it then. He found himself in a hospital bed. For the first time in hours, he took his mind off of his father, listening to the nurses in the room. They were saying that search and rescue parties had found him in the middle of nowhere and that he was severely injured. He looked at all of the equipment around his bed, eventually looking at himself. He noticed only a few scratches while he heard the nurses continue to say that his wounds were healing at an ever increasing rate.
The events that followed continued to follow at a similar pace. Stephen was suddenly hit with countless emotions. He was sad about his father and his home, he was angry at the rescue team for making no effort to find his dad, he was disgusted the nurses for judging him about healing quickly; anxious for the future, confused at the reality of the traumatic occurrence, and suddenly angry at everything. Not feeling weak at all he hopped out of bed. The nurses started to restrain him, so he retaliated. He let out a burst of energy. He was surprised at the yellow light that lit up the silent room. The nurses were on the floor. Stephen wasn’t scared at the discovery of this new power. He was glad that he was finally able to do something to other people. He left the room going into the main hallway. He stumbled a bit, not used to how much energy he had to use for the burst of energy. He leaned against the wall. It was hard and cold. He looked over and noticed that it had turned to steel where he touched it.
He resumed his destruction of the people in the hospital and the building itself, his lost energy coming back quickly. He left the hospital in a disorganized pile of steel, feeling like he had started to avenge his father. He knew from that day on that he wanted everyone to suffer as badly as the physical pain his father went through as well as the emotional trauma he went through himself.