#100+ notes for the 100th snippet - nice!

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Echoes from the past

Hero barged in the little hostel room, brandishing a newspaper and grinning from one ear to another:

“Did you see?” they excitedly asked. “Have you heard? It worked!”

The old Superhero, quietly sit in an armchair that had seen better days, smiled in return and said nothing back.

“The plan worked,” insisted Hero.

In a few steps, they went in front of them, putting the newspaper under their nose:

“You’ve been redeemed!”

The other looked at the papers and took a little sip from their cup:

“That’s good. Do you want some cocoa? I make very good cocoa.”

Hero waved away the invitation:

“Later. Don't you want to hear what the citizens say?”

“Oh, if I must.”

“Of course,” huffed Hero, a little annoyed by the lack of enthusiasm.

They threw the newspaper on the table, pacing the room instead of sitting down, waving their hands as they were talking:

“It was hard work, you know. Everyone thought you murdered not only Supervillain, but half the town with it.”

“I know. I was there.”

“However” - Hero puffed out their chest – “thanks to your indications, a very clever person that I shall not name – it's me, myself, I did it - investigated and realized that the machine that blew the city up could only have been triggered by Supervillain. Mad Scientist confirmed it.”

“Oh, they’re still alive?” asked Superhero, this time mildly intrigued.

“Yes, and they're doing fine, let me tell you. They still like to inflict pain, so they work on easy-open packaging these days. Quite a lucrative business, I’ve heard.”

“I see.”

“If you think really hard about it, it beats exploding people to bits. ”

Superhero reported their interest on their cup:

“What about Supervillain?”

Hero opened their big, innocent eyes wide. It suited them fine.

“What about them? Well, they're still liquid, as far as I know. They're not going to come back from that explosion. I guess they wanted to go while destroying their rival for good. They couldn't kill you, but they could kill your reputation, something like that.”

“I'm out of cocoa. Are you sure you don't want some?”

“Oh, all right.”

Superhero stood up and poured the promised drink. Hero took a little sip, thought for a while, then took one more. It was so peaceful in this little impersonal room, with the curtains half-drawn. It looked nice, but for them, it also looked, well – kind of boring.

“Don't you miss it?” they asked.

“The work?”

“What is there to miss?”

Hero waved:

“The action! The fights! The adrenaline! People looking at you with shining eyes!”

Superhero turned the faucet and washed the saucepan. That was important. It had to be done right away so they wouldn't spend hours scrubbing away the melted cocoa. Turning their back to Hero who was practically vibrating with impatience, they answered:

“All of that gets old, and so do you. My joints are not what they were anymore. At the end of the fight, there's another one as a reward. About the people, well – you saw how easily they turned against me. Not that they matter much. The ones you meet the most are your foes, and either you keep hating them, either things get... complicated.”

“Not with that Supervillain,” said Hero with disgust. “They were really the worst of them.”

“Yes,” agreed the older one, “they were.”

“It must have been horrible to fight a shapeshifter. Never being able to trust anyone, always being scared of them being around...”

Hero shivered.

“I'm glad no villains that I know have that power. When we fight, we fight, and then it's done. You don't have to be on the watch all the time. Thank you for getting rid of them. I mean it. You deserve all the gratefulness in the world.”

Superhero had a small smile.

“Thank you,” they said. “I guess I did that. All I want now is peace, a roof on my own, and enough for a cocoa cup from time to time.”

Hero's phone rang. They checked it and frowned.

“Oh, I gotta go. You know-”

“Yes, I know how it is. Good luck.”

The door closed. All of what was left of their guest was the newspaper they'd forgotten. On the first page, there was a photo of a younger Superhero. They were smiling shyly at the world, just under the word “redeemed”.

The room owner sighed, frowning, and stretched with a yawn. Their features melted. Their silhouette became much thinner. With age, it was getting harder to keep in shape – any shape that wasn’t theirs. Supervillain glared one last time at their dead nemesis:

“What?” they asked sourly. “That I could do for you.”

*

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