The Adventures of Rainbow Man

It was a mid-summer afternoon in Spectral City. The children were outside playing or finding someplace to cool off. Many adults had taken their vacation days while the weather was nice enough to enjoy. Almost everyone was having fun in the sun, except the scientists operating out of Spectral Labs; they never take time off.

“This will be the greatest invention of the modern era!” Mark Radley, the twenty-seven-year-old six foot tall dark haired scientist working at Spectral Labs exclaimed.

“What is it Dr. Radley?” Asked another scientist.

“I have almost found a way to control the visible light spectrum!” Dr. Radley was jumping with excitement.

“That’s impossible,” A different scientist scoffed. “And besides what good would that do? You going to paint your house twice as fast?”

“You don’t get it do you? If you can control the light spectrum the possibilities are limitless! Say someone is suffering from severe burns, its face is blood red, if you could control the light, you could remove the burn from the subject’s face. Or maybe you want to revive dead plants to increase food production? You could add the green into the dead plants and revitalize them!”

“That’s not how nature works Radley! The heat must be getting to your head!” The second scientist remarked. “Just changing the colors of something won’t do anything. Colors and the visible spectrum of light is all just perspective.”

“Mark, you crazy,” A third scientist barked.

“You just don’t see the potential of my invention! Every revolutionary genius is called crazy before they are proven to be ahead of their time!” Dr. Radley retorted.

“Radley! I overheard what you and your colleagues were arguing about and I’ve had enough!” From down the steps of his office marched Clifford Hagen, a retired army general who was put in charge of Spectral Lab because of his authority, seniority, and familiarity with science. He often wore a staunch business suit. “This invention of yours sounds ridiculous! You are too damn smart to be working on some worthless piece of shit machine! From now on I order you to stop working on that hunk of junk and start doing your job! We don’t need no renegades working on crap when there are still plenty of problems that need solving! You got that!”

“Yes sir,” Mark Radley mumbled somberly. “Can I still keep my machine?”

“I’m not a complete and heartless jackass, so why not. Just don’t let is distract you,” General Hagen replied in a much softer tone than before while he was ranting. Mark hesitantly rolled his partially finished machine into the corner of his research area and covered it with a spare blanket. The machine that Dr. Mark Radley had built was that of a ray. In theory the ray would aim at anything with color and then allow the user to change the color at will. It did this through a process of color swapping, in which the ray absorbed the color of the object, stored it, and then replaced the color with one of the colors stored in the machine that the user wants to use. Dr. Radley had worked on that machine since he was twenty-two and became a scientist for Spectral Labs. Mark had forever dreamed of being remembered for something, and because of his natural intellect, he focused his desire of remembrance on the scientific field. This invention would be his legacy. It would make him as memorable as the presidents of old and of the founders of science. He would be in history books. He might even have a statue built in Spectral City to commemorate him. All this and more would be Mark’s if his invention worked like he wanted it to.

But General Hagen wouldn’t let Mark work on his machine. Mark couldn’t believe that General Hagan would be the one to stop his legacy. Mark went back to work in a melancholy mood, thinking of his great legacy being shattered since he couldn’t work on his machine, and it was his own fault that he would forever have his machine to look at in despair. Hours passed, until the day was coming to an end. Mark was still depressed.

“Hey Radley!” Yelled Perry Snyder, the leading the scientist at Spectral Labs, second only to General Hagen. Mark turned. “I have to go home early. The big game is on tonight and I promised my son I wouldn’t miss the next big one. Can you do me a huge favor and lock-up and activate the security when you leave? I’d owe you big time.”

A spark lit in Mark’s brain. “Sure, I’ll lock up Dr. Snyder. And what do you want me to do with the keys and security codes after I leave?” Mark asked coyly.

“I’ll pick them up in the morning from your place if that’s okay with you.” Dr. Snyder remarked halfway out the door.

“No problem! Have fun with your son!” Mark yelled out to Dr. Snyder as he waved goodbye. “Excellent! My legacy will still come to fruition!” Dr. Radley danced his happy dance and almost cried tears of joy since now he knew how he’d finish his machine. He quickly wrote down the security codes into his personal pocket notepad, and used the key making machine in the security office to make a spare set of keys for himself. Mark became so giddy as he thought of his schedule to finish his project. “I’ll come in every few days and work on my machine. In no more than a month, maybe a month and a half, barring unforeseen complications, my machine will be complete and I will prove to them all that I was right and leave behind a legacy for the ages!” Mark screamed into the ceiling as he knew no one could hear him.

So, Mark did as he planned and worked on his machine at night when no one would notice. He didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing he wasn’t home either, since he was a recluse. Mark focused on his work so much that his girlfriend had left him before he started working at Spectral Labs. He pushed away all his close friends years before, when he attended Spectral University. Mark thought about that day often, the day he stopped being Mark Radley, awesome dude, and became, Mark Radley, backstabber.

Five years ago, Mark Radley was a student at Spectral University. He was working hard to earn his degree and be able to work his dream job at Spectral Labs. He and his best friend Hector King were at the top of their class. Hector had been Mark’s friend since they were just children; together they were going to become two of the greatest scientists in the world and leave their marks on history. Mark and Hector were roommates and one day, like any other, they were walking to class.

“Mark,” Hector said softly as he pulled Mark aside on their walk to class. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know bro, and you’re mine,” Mark replied a little weirded out that Hector had stopped him to say that.

“I know you know, but sometimes, I feel like I need to just say that. You’re like a brother to me Mark and we are going to be the greatest science tandem ever.”

“We sure are bro. Now come on let’s get moving before we’re late.” Mark said as he quickened his pace to make sure that he was not late to class. The pair walked to class and their day proceeded as normal. Later that evening, a life altering conversation happened.

“Hey, Mark,” Hector called to his buddy across the room, who had already almost passed out from a semi-tiring day.

“Wha ma, I super tired,” The groggy Mark choked out.

“I have something really big I need to talk to you about,” The quieter half-Hispanic kid pleaded.

“I’m up!” Mark fell and repositioned himself in his chair to listen to his pal. “What’s up man? Fire away.”

“Okay. Um, so there’s this girl, and um like I…” Hector stammered.

“Stop right there buddy, I know what you want. You have the jitters and you want me to talk to her for you. Well don’t worry there buddy Hector, your ol’ pal Mark is alright with the ladies, and the ladies are alright with him.” Mark boasted. “All I need to know is her name. So, what is it?”

“It’s Cynthia Lowe.” Hector mumbled. “She has long brown hair, and the most beautiful brown eyes you’ve ever seen. She’s in our bio class. I think she is finishing up to be a zoologist or something because she always talks about stoats. I think they’re some kind of weasel, but I don’t know, I can never go more than thirty seconds without choking on my tongue.”

“Hey, don’t worry bro, you’ve got Mark Radley in your corner. I’ll talk you up to her and then you can impress her by telling her you’ll be a part of the greatest science duo in history!” Mark shouted even though it was probably past midnight.

“Dude we get it shut the fuck up already!” Another student yelled from his own dorm.

“People were sleeping!” A different student yelled.

“Shout in the afternoon when I’m awake enough to kick your ass!” A third student yelled from even further away than the previous two.

“We should probably go to bed now Hector. But hey, don’t worry about Cynthia, I’ll take care of it,” Mark said in a much more time appropriate voice.

“Thanks buddy. Goodnight,” Hector said as he turned off his bunk light. Mark passed out on the chair, and within a couple of days, Hector King would be happy to say that he was going on a date with a beautiful zoologist.

A couple of days later Mark had left Hector to go talk up Cynthia Lowe, the girl that Hector had been crushing on for some time. Mark, using his general friendliness, found where Cynthia’s dorm room was and went over for Hector. He reached the door and did a casual knock as to let Cynthia know it was a friend knocking, not a total weirdo. Mark waited for a couple of seconds before she opened the door. Mark froze. Hector did not exaggerate about the beautiful zoologist. On a one out of ten scale, with one being a chair, and ten being god in the form of a woman, she was about a nine point five. Mark stood there in awe. Brain turned off. His jaw dropped. Her brown hair dropped to below her ribs. She appeared as though she wasn’t expecting company since she was dressed in a creamy orange nightgown. She looked into Mark’s eyes and he felt like he was looking into the Ark of the Covenant. Just like Major Toht, the Nazi commander in Raiders, Mark felt as though his face was melting down to the bone. He staggered. His words felt fumbled. He had to pull himself together. “Are you Ms. Lowe?” He shyly asked as he could not think of any other words to say.

“Yes, but most people call me Cynthia,” She replied in a voice that sounded as if Mary Poppins’ voice had been bathed in the ingredients that made the Powerpuff Girls. “Would you like to come in, you seem woozy?” Mark could only nod, but when he did he nodded as though he were a drunkard. Cynthia opened the door all the way and led Mark to her couch. He stumbled but made it to the couch where he still couldn’t take his eyes off her intoxicating eyes. He knew not if this were love at first sight, or if he really just wanted to sleep with her a couple of times then brag to his friends. What was he here to do again? His mind went blank. He couldn’t remember why he went to Cynthia’s room in the first place. Something about another person that wanted him to do something with one or more of those things involving Cynthia. Hm. In all honesty, he was stumped. “You’re in biology right? Mark Radley?” Cynthia asked making idle conversation with the mostly brain dead Mark. Mark nodded. “You and your friend Hector seem nice. It’s a shame we haven’t talked sooner. Not that you are really talking now; or that I’ve been dying to talk to you or anything. That came out wrong. I’m sorry, I’m not very good at talking to people, it’s probably why I’m going to be a zoologist. The animals don’t talk back. At least not to me. I’m babbling. I should really stop talking.” Cynthia seemed nervous, at least Mark took it that way. When she mentioned Hector’s name he remembered why he was here.

“So, Cynthia,” Mark began. “I’m going to be blunt here and just straight up ask it: do you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? I don’t judge.”

“What?” Cynthia seemed startled, caught off guard from the question. “Um, no I’m not in any kind of relationship. If you couldn’t already tell, I’m not very good at making small talk.” She looked away from Mark to her stoat plushy.

“Oh nice, because my friend Hector has a crush on you and…” Mark started saying until Cynthia impulsively turned back towards Mark, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. Mark couldn’t waste the golden moment placed in his lap and embraced Cynthia’s love with all his heart. Mark stopped thinking about Hector, and started thinking about how Cynthia Lowe, the smoking hot zoologist kissed him first! He felt like a schoolgirl. They embraced and for a little while threw away everything other than their momentary passion.

Mark expired heavily and rested his eyes snuggling the beautiful zoologist.

Cynthia Lowe focused solely on her dream of becoming a zoologist throughout all of her college years. She often stayed away from the big parties her roommate Candy went to. And when she did go, she’d get an ice water, look around awkwardly for a minute or too, then leave and get to studying. Nothing would stand in her way of becoming a zoologist; she loved the animals too much, especially her favorite animal: the stoat. She had always found it amazing how the tiny weasel could defeat prey that was nearly two and a half times it’s width (be it, the prey is non-vicious). And it was considerably cute for a rodent. Despite her amazing beauty, she never dated. She was never out enough to know any guy enough to date. She did make some time for her girl friends, but she had only been in two relationships her whole life. Both were in her high school years, and they ended like high school relationships do.

Knock, knock. There was someone at her door. She wasn’t expecting Candy to be home yet, so she figured it must be someone at the wrong room. She thought it would be nice to tell the person he was at the wrong room. She got up from her relaxed position on the couch, straightened up, and answered the door. At the door was a slightly disheveled man who looked like another student. He had that same weird amount of facial hair that Bradley Cooper constantly has. He was casually enough dressed, khaki slacks and a light button up. She didn’t see his eyes right away since he was leaning against the door, waiting for a response. When their eyes met, she could see that he was done. He stumbled and looked stupefied. She giggled a bit, but not aloud. He looked frozen. She couldn’t remember why his face looked familiar. She couldn’t think where she knew him from.

“Are you Ms. Lowe?” The strange man asked. He came to see her. This was a surprise.

“Yes, but most people call me Cynthia,” Cynthia said to the disoriented man. “Would you like to come in, you seem woozy?” The man nodded and Cynthia opened the door fully to allow the strange yet familiar man into her dorm. She led him to the couch where he fell like a log. Cynthia pulled up a chair so that she was across from the man who was now starting at her from her couch. She had definitely seen his face before. She didn’t know Bradley Cooper in real life, but she definitely had seen his beard somewhere. She got it. “You’re in biology right? Mark Radley?” The man nodded. She knew she had seen him before. Mark Radley and his friend Hector something sat a couple rows below her and her bio friend every class. He’s cute, she thought quietly, but what is he doing here. She didn’t know but realized the two of them had been sitting silently for a couple of minutes. “You and your friend Hector seem nice. It’s a shame we haven’t talked sooner. Not that you are really talking now; or that I’ve been dying to talk to you or anything. That came out wrong. I’m sorry, I’m not very good at talking to people, it’s probably why I’m going to be a zoologist. The animals don’t talk back. At least not to me. I’m babbling. I should really stop talking.” She had made a complete fool out of herself in front of the kind of cute guy sitting on her couch. She blew this conversation already. She knew she should’ve gone to more of those stupid college parties and talked to more people.

The man suddenly seemed okay. No longer was he woozy looking. “So, Cynthia,” Mark began. “I’m going to be blunt here and just straight up ask it: do you have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? I don’t judge.”

She couldn’t believe what just came out of the cute guy’s mouth. “What? Um, no I’m not in any kind of relationship. If you couldn’t already tell, I’m not very good at making small talk.” She looked away from Mark to her stoat plushy. The stoat always made her feel better. The cute guy just asked about her marital status. Why would he do that? Does he like her? Why does she keep mentally bringing up the fact that he’s cute? She didn’t know what was going on. She hadn’t been in any situations like the one she was in now. She had to make a decision. Since she didn’t know from experience, impulse would have to do.

“Oh nice, because my friend Hector has a crush on you and…” Mark started saying until Cynthia shut him up with a kiss. He gave minor resistance at first before embracing Cynthia as she did it. A million emotions were running through Cynthia’s head, so she ignored them all and just enjoyed the moment. That moment became many as they embarked on a journey of passion.

When they were finished, Mark expired heavily and Cynthia fell asleep in his embrace, not knowing where this would lead.

Mark awoke in the night and found that he was in bed with none other than Cynthia Lowe, the woman Hector was in love with. He gasped. Cynthia didn’t stir. He didn’t want to believe what transpired, but he knew it. And he was proud. A flood of mixed emotions swarmed his head. He betrayed his friend, but had a romantic evening with a wonderful gal. He ruined his friendship, only if Hector found out. He went to sleep deciding to sort it out in the morning.

Mark awoke in the morning to a much less friendly sight, as Cynthia’s roommate opened the door and right beside her stood Hector King.

“You bastard!” Hector screamed. “You backstabbing, no good, asshole!”

“Hector I can explain everything!” Mark said trying to calm down Hector while covering his privates with one of Cynthia’s pillows. Cynthia covered herself up, not wanting to get involved.

“To every Caesar, his Brutus!” Hector began again. “When all seems right in the world there will always be a Brutus to ruin it all! Always the best friend! My greatest ally and future partner turned enemy!”

“It’s not that bad,” Mark said trying to underplay the colossal break in trust.

“Shakespeare said it best ‘Et tu, Brute?’ The only man he didn’t see coming ruins the great empire! The irony! The tragic irony! I send you out as my loyal friend to talk me up, and this is what happens!? My fragile heart cannot bear the pain of your betrayal!”

“Hector, it doesn’t have to end like this,” Mark pleaded.

“Oh, but it does. I should have known our plans would fall! They were too great to stand. Don’t follow me back home! I’m going to pack up and leave. It’ll be a bit so wander around so I don’t have to look at you! Mark Radley, I hate you!” Hector screamed as he stormed off back to their shared house to pack his things out of Mark’s life. Mark stood in Cynthia’s room in silence. Her roommate had long since left. He looked back at Cynthia, sat on the bed, and cried. Cynthia lovingly embraced him to console his tears away. The great science duo of Mark Radley and Hector King would not come to be a reality.

Mark shrugged off the memories of five years ago and worked on the machine that would make him famous. He would show everyone that he was the greatest. Even Cynthia, who had left within the last year because he was ‘too focused on work’ would know that it was not all for nothing.

After about a month or so Mark had finished his machine. “Now to test it,” He said to himself. He knew exactly what to test it on. From his coat he brought out two apples: a Granny Smith green, and a Red Delicious red. He put the apples on two desks and readied his machine. He took aim at the green, turned the knob to negative, and fired. A beam shot out of the light machine and hit the Granny Smith apple dead on. Instantly, the previously green apple had now become colorless. He did the same to the red apple and prepared to fire back at the Red Delicious, and turn it green, hopefully changing the properties of the apple in the process. Mark steadied the machine, took aim, and fired back at the colorless Red Delicious, this time with the knob turned to rainbow. A beautiful beam fired from the light machine. More slowly this time, the colorless Red Delicious started to turn green. After a couple of seconds, it was done. The Red Delicious apple was now green. Mark decided to taste it. He took a bite. After chewing the apple chunk, Mark spat the apple chunk into the garbage can. It tasted like a green apple. He had successfully changed the properties of an object by changing its color. Still desiring a Red Delicious red apple, Mark readied the machine to transfer the red coloring into the previously Granny Smith green apple. He took aim and fired. The beautiful beam once again shot out and hit the apple. Slowly the apple started to change colors. Mark gasped in terror. The bottom of the apple was blue. Something had gone horribly wrong. He tried to turn off the machine before something dangerous happened, but it was too late. The beam from the machine fired in reverse off the apple back at Mark and the machine. On impact, the device exploded hurling Mark before destroying all of Spectral Labs. Mark laid unconscious while the rubble of Spectral Labs fell on top of him.

Mark opened his eyes to bright light. He had to be dead. His machine was a success before it imploded and blew him up too. “It’s alright Mark, it’s going to be okay. I love you,” A voice said from far away. He passed out again. When he woke up for the second time the voice sounded closer. “It’s alright Mark, it’s going to be okay. I love you.” Who was it talking to him? The light was less bright this time. A shadow stood above him. He wasn’t dead. Somehow he survived the explosion and was in the hospital. Standing above him was Cynthia Lowe. “I think he’s awake! Doctor, Mark’s awake!” Cynthia screamed down the hall in joy.

“Wha? Cynthia? You left. Hospital?” Mark pieced together before Cynthia reassured him that it was okay. “I’m alive? Do I have to pay for Spectral Labs?”

“It’s okay Mark. Spectral Labs has insurance for these kinds of things. Poor Mark caught in a faulty wiring explosion while working late. I should have never left you alone. Don’t worry hon, I won’t leave until you get better; after that we can talk about our relationship,” Cynthia said in the relaxing tone she always could muster up to calm him down.

“Mark it’s a miracle you are alive, but you are. Be thankful. You have a couple of broken ribs, your broken fingers have already healed, and you’ve been out for about two weeks,” The doctor said as he walked into the room looking like a professional but talking like a baseball skipper from the sixties. “If this young lady goes home with you, then you can go home tomorrow. Sound good?” Mark nodded. “Good. Now rest up, I have to go take care of more urgent need patients. Also, here’s a couple weeks medical leave from your job. Your ribs should be slightly better by then. Good day.”

“I’ll move back in with you until you go back to work, if that’s okay with you Mark,” Cynthia proposed. Mark nodded again. Cynthia smiled gently and kissed Mark on the forehead before leaving. Mark slowly drifted back into sleep remembering the days of old with Cynthia.

The next morning his bags were packed and loaded into the trunk of Cynthia’s car. Bags, that doesn’t sound right thought the weakened Mark Radley. When did I get bags? “If you’re wondering about the bags, I picked up some stuff from your apartment.” Cynthia shouted backwards while adjusting the bags, almost as if reading Mark’s mind. My apartment, but the door’s locked. “You also haven’t changed your locks since before we broke up.” There she goes again. I mean, I guess she does know me. Whatever. Mark finished up his thoughts and started hobbling to the car. Cynthia rushed over to him. “DON’T WALK BY YOURSELF! YOU’RE HURT!” Just like he remembered, Cynthia was a kind loving person who could somehow still show compassion to a man who put her second to work. Work that almost got him killed. Together they drove across the city to Cynthia’s studio apartment. “It’s kinda small, you can have the bed.”

Mark had never seen such a small place. His own apartment was a two bedroom two bath which was plenty of space for him and all of his equipment. But Cynthia’s place was at most half the size of his apartment. The bedroom was non-existent, only a bed up a small staircase. The kitchen was in plain view from the entrance, and the living room seemed to be the whole place. “Why don’t we stay in my apartment instead? It’s much larger. No sense in you sleeping on the couch if you don’t have to,” Mark suggested not wanting to be rude towards Cynthia’s hospitality.

“Uh, sure. I didn’t even think about the size difference. Let me go pack up some of my stuff and get ready,” Cynthia stammered. She left Mark to the bed where he sat pondering his machine. Faulty wiring could not have been the source of the explosion. He had wired the machine himself and he would never make a novice mistake. He was a scientist. Something had to have gone wrong specifically with the color switching matrix. The first beam was everything he had hoped, but the second was where the error lay. Something must have happened between the two shots. There were several points of error which Mark identified to be possible but not likely. The most likely answer was that the device needed to cool down between shots, but since he had fired the second beam so quickly after the first, the color matrix had not yet fully transferred over the light refractions. Cynthia came back with multiple bags of her own. Mark smiled when he saw the stuffed stoat. It reminded him of better days. Not necessarily better since the next day he did lose his best friend, but better in the sense that he was happier. “Ready?” Cynthia asked. Mark nodded. Once again they headed out, this time the trunk and backseat were fully loaded with bags.

They arrived at Mark’s apartment which looked like the apartment of a mad scientist. The floor was messy, both bedrooms were filled with junk, scrapped pieces of paper lay everywhere, takeout boxes were stacked around the kitchen. If Cynthia didn’t know better, it would be easy for her to assume a large humanoid rat lived in the apartment. “Um, the place is definitely…different than I remember,” Cynthia said while walking through all of Mark’s clutter.

“Most of my time I spent at the lab working on my machine,” Mark replied. Cynthia knew the machine of Mark’s destruction too well. It was the reason she left him. “But that’s behind me now. It was a failure, it’s time to move on. Maybe I can use my scientific genius for something better,” Mark remarked trying to get Cynthia’s mind off the machine. She was nice enough to keep him company while he’s injured, it would be best not to upset her. After all, he still loved her very much. “Most of this stuff is junk, so it will be easy cleaning it up.” The two of them started gathering up most of Mark’s research that he left lying around. Cynthia was afraid to throw away anything important, but Mark assured her that the real important stuff couldn’t be trashed. She hugged him softly just like he remembered. It was as if a marshmallow and a puppy were combined in softness in one person’s arms. The embrace was warm too. So warm. In fact, it was too warm to naturally be coming from a human being.

“MARK!” Cynthia screamed. “YOUR SHIRT IS ON FIRE!” Mark looked down to see that his shirt was indeed on fire. He panicked but then quickly remembered he kept an extinguisher underneath the sink. Cynthia ran to the sink, pulled out the extinguisher, and fired full force at Mark. Mark became engulfed in fluffy white foam. The fire was out. Mark was relieved to no longer be on fire but was immediately saddened when his red Flash shirt was mostly scorched. “Thank god you’re alright!” Cynthia rushed Mark. “What could have caused that fire?”

“I don’t know. Maybe stress? I’ve heard that can cause spontaneous human combustion?” Mark was baffled. And he didn’t like being baffled. Everything needed an explanation because everything had an explanation.

“Well the only thing that matters is that you’re okay,” Cynthia said in a much calmer tone than in the previous minute. “Let’s go get you a clean shirt and bandages.” Mark followed Cynthia into the bathroom where she rewrapped his ribs. Mark still needed to do laundry, so all he had left was a plain blue Nike shirt. After the long and hectic day Mark and Cynthia both decided it would be a good idea to go to sleep. They each slept in a different room, Mark in his and Cynthia in the guest room down the hall. “Call me immediately if you need something okay?” Cynthia kissed Mark goodnight and walked the fifteen or so feet to her room. Mark laid in his bed still not fully understanding his moment of spontaneous combustion. I guess that’s why it’s spontaneous combustion, it can just happen whenever. Mark thought that was a good enough explanation for now and drifted off into sleep.

“It’s all over Mark,” Hector said. “I have won. I am a better scientist, better friend, better colleague, and a better partner than you ever will be.” Cynthia and all of Mark’s work colleagues were behind Hector. Mark didn’t understand. Why were they all around Hector? Why did his face itch? He touched his face. His beard was scraggly. He didn’t have a beard; what was going on? Hector stood above Mark in every way. He could never equate to Hector’s level of person. Mark’s fingers curled. Hector couldn’t defeat him. He wouldn’t let Hector win. He swung at Hector’s jaw. Hector collapsed onto the floor.

He couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t Mark breathe? He was sleeping then all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. Mark opened his eyes. He couldn’t see much in the dark wavy waters. Wait, waters. Where did the water come from? Mark began to drown as he realized that his room was underwater. The door was sealed shut. All he needed to do was open it to let the water out. Cynthia, he tried screaming, more water seeped into his lungs. That wouldn’t do him any good until he could get the door open. He swam to the door. It wouldn’t budge. All the pressure made the door impossible to open. Mark was going to drown in his own room. Where did the water come from? He didn’t care too much about that as he felt the heaviness on his lungs. He pushed but the door wouldn’t budge. Mark started to get angry. He punched at the door. Futile. He did it again. Pathetic. He tried again. Why does he keep trying? He punched it for a fourth time, but this time his orange Spectral University wristband lite up in the dark water as Mark punched through the door. The water flooded out the room. Mark opened the door and flopped onto the floor. His lungs hurt badly. He almost drowned. Where did that water come from? He didn’t care right now. He shouted barely audible, “Cynthia. Help. Me.” She couldn’t hear him. He need to shout a bit louder, “Cynthia. Help me.” Mark faded. Cynthia stirred and as if a maternal reaction ran to check on Mark. She found him half-conscious on the floor.

“MARK!” Cynthia was freaking out. She stopped to collect herself. She quickly performed CPR on the soaking Mark Radley. She turned his head sideways. After a couple of pumps Mark spat out water and gasped. Cynthia was elated. “STOP TRYING TO DIE ON ME YOU PRICK!” Cynthia yelled at Mark with tears in her eyes. He slowly got up and hugged her. Two catastrophes in one twenty-four-hour period? Not a coincidence anymore. And the wristband. He thought he saw it glow. Did it glow? He might have been hallucinating from all the water shutting down his brain. He was alive. He couldn’t believe he was alive. Cynthia couldn’t believe it either. For the rest of the night the two slept together in the guest room.

In the morning the two awoke catastrophe free. Mark’s room was still drenched from the water that nearly drowned him the night before. That really did happen, Mark thought to himself. Maybe the wristband did glow? Mark shuddered and threw the orange wristband on the ground. He wanted to forget the craziness that had ensued the night before. He felt the need to know why the unexplained catastrophes had happened, but not yet. He decided that he would wait until he felt better to explore more. Chills went up Mark’s spine as he thought about it. “Wear a sweatshirt then,” Cynthia said. Mark looked confused. He realized he shivered. She was right, he should put on a sweatshirt. He grabbed the closest sweater, an indigo Spectral Bearcats hoodie that he got when Hector forced him to go to a football game back in college. He kept it to remind himself of the friend he had lost. Mark never wore the sweater, but he really didn’t want to look for another one, plus he was chilly. “I made you some hot chocolate to make you feel better and to help forget about last night,” Cynthia called to Mark as he approached from the hall. Mark grasped the cup with both hands. Nothing was better than freshly made hot chocolate, Cynthia even put whip cream in it. He took a sip, nothing came to his mouth. Curious. He tried again, this time tipping the cup further back. Still nothing. Now Mark was slightly upset. Not angling the cup towards his face at all, Mark placed the cup upside-down. “MARK ARE YOU CRAZY! YOU ARE GOING TO DIRTY UP THE COUNTER! AND YOU MIGHT BURN YOURSELF!” Cynthia was mid-freak out when Mark held up one finger. He slowly tipped the cup back until it was right-side-up. Cynthia expected a giant mess, but to her surprise there was nothing. “Where did all the liquid go?” Mark pointed to the cup. “But how could it still be in there? Is this a magic trick?” Mark shook his head. He tipped the mug slightly to show Cynthia the contents. The ‘hot’ chocolate that once was in the cup was frozen solid. “But, how? I used boiling hot water.” Cynthia was dumbfounded. Mark sat there silently with his hoodie up. He brought his hands up to his mouth.

“I can’t understand any of this,” Mark said to his hands with his closed gaze staring down. “I think you should go home Cynthia. Three strange incidents in the last day is too many. Something must be wrong with me. It’s too dangerous for you here while I don’t know what causes these incidents.” Mark’s voice showed signs of fear and general worry for Cynthia’s well-being.

“No,” Cynthia replied heavily. “I am not going. You just recovered from a trauma and you need someone here to help you through all of (she used her arms to signal everything) this. You are stuck with me here until you are better. I care too much about you to just leave you here.” Mark realized then from the look in her eyes that she was not going anywhere. She was serious about staying even though the logical danger level was astronomical. She was very compassionate and he knew that.

“Fine then, if something happens to you, just know that I’ll be very upset with you,” Mark teased with a somewhat serious undertone. Cynthia smiled and tilted her head slightly, her hair moved in front of her face. Mark missed that look. To get to work on understanding the incidents Mark needed to isolate the commonalities. Spontaneous human combustion, water filling his room and only his room, and hot chocolate freezing. None of those three things seemed to factor in at all. Where was the common ground? The first incident was what he would examine first. He got home from the hospital, went to Cynthia’s place, drove to his place, and started cleaning. He didn’t combust any of the other times during the day, until he started cleaning. Was it possible that cleaning fluid got on his shirt? Possible but improbable. He was not that klutzy. He then participated in a warm embrace with Cynthia. Is it possible that she spilt cleaning fluid on her shirt and the hug sparked the flames? Possible but highly improbable. Cynthia was less clumsy and her shirt didn’t light on fire. The shirt. His shirt lit on fire first. Why the shirt? What was so special about his shirt that could have caused spontaneous combustion? Things to ponder.

The next incident would hopefully provide a connection. He went to sleep after his shirt burned. What caused the water to fill his room? Leaky pipes? Unlikely since no water mains were anywhere near his room. Did the water come through the window? No, the room was sealed when he tried to escape it, that’s why he was drowning. No event seemed to connect this incident to the first one. Cynthia was not involved because she was sleeping, so the problem had to lie within him somehow. Then there was that glow that he distinctly remembers seeing. Was it real? If it was what did it do? He couldn’t open the door to escape the water. The glow happened, then he escaped. Did he fade from consciousness then the door opened after many attempts? Possible but improbable since the door was not budging before he faded out of consciousness. And he was awake when he called out to Cynthia for help.

Then this morning. The hot chocolate froze. He was feeling chilly, but not quite sub-zero levels of chilly. Nothing could have possibly froze the boiling water that quickly. Something occurred between the time Cynthia prepared the drink and when he went to drink it. But what? What could have possibly happened in that short of a span of time? It was impossible. But so was his room filling to the brim with water; he was dealing with the impossible here. He couldn’t connect the first incident to the other two. He would have to wait for another incident (if there was one) to happen in order to find the missing link.

The rest of the day went smoothly no other incident happened leaving Mark to think that whatever conundrum he was facing was over. He went to bed that night in the guest room with Cynthia since his room was still water logged. He crawled into bed sleeping peacefully for the first time in months. Whatever dangers he faced were now gone. After about a week of normalcy Mark had started running. Cynthia told him it was a good way to stay in shape. His ribs felt fine. A run couldn't hurt, well except for his lack of stamina. That would hurt. Cynthia was one of those people who liked to prepare for whatever she did. She came out of the room with a headband, running shoes, a short top, and those 1970s basketball shorts. Mark was stunned. He wore a plain white t-shirt, shoes, and normal black shorts. “That won't do,” Cynthia said. Her face showed signs of disappointment. She grabbed Mark's yellow Spectral University headband (the school colors were Orange and Yellow) and snapped it on his head. “Better. Now let's get moving!” Cynthia was much too excited to do something as menial as moving at an above average pace for a set time or distance. Mark sighed. If this was rehabilitation then he would rather just re-break his ribs. They started running. Nothing too difficult just a trot around Spectral Park. It had a long path for runners and joggers. The local track team would sometimes sprint there. Cynthia was moving much faster than Mark thought was possible. Or he was just really slow, he couldn't tell which. Either way she was over 20 yards ahead of him. “Move it slow poke! If you can beat me we won't have to run tomorrow!” Cynthia shouted back at Mark. Mark perked up. The idea of not running elated him. Suddenly he felt a surge of energy his legs started pumping faster and faster. He passed Cynthia in seconds. He was nearly at the end of the park. He had left the park and was now 15 blocks out. Wait, why couldn't he see the park. Mark looked up. He could see a faint glow. He thought it was the sun, but realized it was his headband. An incident! One was happening right now! And the glow was the cause! The headband! Just like the wristband! And the shirt! What about the other two incidents? It didn't matter. Mark brought himself to a stop. He had no idea where he was.

“Excuse me sir, can you tell me where we are?” Mark asked to who he assumed was a local.

“Lightsville, the city of bright lights!” The man replied with a chipper smile. Lightsville was 20 miles away from Spectral City. He ran 20 miles in the time it took him to realize the headband caused the incident. It had given him super levels of speed. Cynthia was no doubt super pissed. He had gone from struggling behind her to blazing past her in a mere instance! This was a scientific miracle. He was marvel, but knew he had to get back to not worry Cynthia any more than she already was. Okay headband let’s do this. Mark started jogging. He was tired. Come on headband, lightspeed! He was about to pass out from the running. Are you kidding me! It must be out of power. The 20-mile run must have drained the headband’s source of energy. Damn. He stopped jogging. Mark was visibly upset. Knowing that he couldn’t make the headband go again, Mark called a cab. He then called Cynthia and told her he would explain everything when he got back. They agreed to meet back at Mark’s place.

“This headband I was wearing,” Mark started to say to Cynthia, who already thought it was BS. “Gave me super speed.” Cynthia started laughing. “Think about it, I was behind you and tired, but then I was gone. I had run 20 miles in no more than 30 seconds. That means I was running at approximately 2400 miles per hour. I was at Mach 3. That is as fast as the top 5 fastest jet planes in the world! I was top 5 level fast Cynthia!” Mark was bouncing with joy.

“How are you not dead?” Cynthia asked plainly.

Mark paused. He didn’t know. He got it, “Like the Flash!” Mark shouted. Cynthia was confused. “The Flash runs super speed all the time and he is not affected by factors such as particles flying through the air or even wind resistance. He absorbs kinetic energy while running to take the impact super speeds would normally have on a person’s body. But I don’t have the Speed Force.” Mark was once again puzzled. Cynthia was completely lost. She wasn’t as big a fan of comics or superheroes as Mark was. Mark really loved superheroes. “The headband must have created its own Speed Force-esque protective veil around me while I was running.” Mark returned to his joyous bouncing.

“That’s cool and all, but how did a headband give you super speed? Does this explain the other incidents? Why haven’t we seen an incident in a week? What caused it in the first place? And where did the power come from?” Cynthia asked trying to tackle the wooly mammoth in the room.

“Let’s see,” Mark began. “The headband had to have been powered by something. Yes. Most likely because nothing much has happened the past week. Running triggered it. And I don’t know but I intend to find out.” Cynthia sighed, Mark was taking this way too lightly. He had gotten super speed temporarily from a magic yellow headband, not died, and didn’t know where the power came from. “Here is everything I know. The first incident happened with a shirt. No fire, shirt on fire. The shirt caused the fire. That night when I was drowning I saw a glow, like the one the headband made when I was running super speed. I thought it was a hallucination but obviously it was not. I tried to break through the door, but I couldn’t the glow happened on the wristband and I broke through. The wristband must have given me super strength, again temporarily. Just as the shirt caused a fire. The other two incidents however are not yet fully connected. Wait!” Mark stopped. Ran frantically grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down what he knew. “CYNTHIA! WHAT COLOR WAS THE SHIRT I WAS WEARING! WHEN I BURST INTO FLAMES I MEAN!”

“Um, I don’t know. Oh, it was your Flash shirt.” Cynthia remarked.

“RED. COULD IT REALLY BE THAT SIMPLE?” Mark wrote as if the headband re-gave him super speed. He doddered illegible scrap. “I AM A SCIENTIFIC GENIUS! I CREATED THE WORLD’S FIRST SUPERPOWERED INDIVIDUAL! HOORAH!” Mark jumped like a maniac. He grabbed Cynthia’s face and kissed her. She was stunned. She was pretty sure Mark just cracked.

“What is going on, what do you mean? Superpowered individual? What do you mean by that?” Cynthia asked Mark hoping to get a reasonable complete thought out of him.

“I HAVE DONE THE IMPOSSIBLE! I HAVE CREATED A PERSON WITH ABILITIES BEYOND HUMAN CAPACITY! A SUPERHERO!” Mark screamed.

“Explain. Not everyone here is inside your head,” Cynthia said in a slightly aggravated tone.

“To explain this, we have to go back to the lab explosion. Remember what I was building? A device to harness the essence of the visible spectrum of light. In short, I could transfer colors from one object to another. However, my machine blew up leading me to deem it a failure. BUT IT WASN’T A FAILURE! THE EXPLOSION AND MY OWN PROXIMITY TO IT MUST HAVE CAUSED SOME GENETIC MUTATION TO OCCUR INSIDE OF ME GIVING ME SUPER ABILITIES BEYOND THAT OF EVEN THE MOST WELL CONDITIONED INDIVIDUAL!” Mark screamed once again. Cynthia was skeptical. Mark calmed down a bit and began, “Now I see the skepticism in you, allow me to prove your query. After the explosion I landed in the hospital where you came in. Despite being exploded upon, and having a building collapse on me, I sustained only a few broken ribs and fingers. Now that could be just luck; however, it stops being luck when we got to my place the next day. After an entire day with no fire, the shirt spontaneously combusted. Nothing could have caused that fire. But clothes couldn’t do that either. It had to have been me. Later that night, I changed from my burnt-up shirt into a plain blue one. That same night my room mysteriously filled with water. Purely by association red is a fire color and blue is one of water. That irrational logic makes sense here. I changed shirts and water fills the room. I caused the water. I went to sleep that night with the same orange Spectral University wristband. I can’t break through the door, glow, I can break through the door. Coincidences piling. The next morning, I feel cold. I put on my indigo sweatshirt. You make boiling chocolate water. It freezes before it hits my lips. Both of my hands were on the mug. I froze the contents inside the mug before I could drink it. Earlier today while running. I trail behind you. Suddenly, I’m 20 miles ahead with a glowing yellow Spectral University headband atop my skull. I gained superpowers from the explosion and now different colors give me different powers! I created a superhero. I created a superhero! I CREATED A SUPERHERO! WORLD’S FIRST SUPERHERO!” Mark bounced with pride. Cynthia was laughing. Mostly out of disbelief. Her ex-boyfriend is the world’s first superhero. She couldn’t believe it. Mark Radley was a superhero! She couldn’t contain herself.

“So, what now Mr. Superhero?” Cynthia joked. “Are you going to make a cheesy costume and save the world?”

“That’s a great idea! Make a killer costume and save the city!” Mark replied exuberantly.

“Mark, I was joking. You don’t know how to be a superhero, you could get seriously hurt. Do you even know how to activate your powers?” Cynthia retorted.

“No, but that’s what I have you for! Every superhero needs someone who think about all the possible dangers. And I’ll figure out how to activate them right now.” Mark replied. He left for a second only to return with a red shirt on. “Watch this.” He set up candle 15 feet away. Mark started making hand gestures to activate the flames. Nothing happened. “Strange. Let me try again.” Mark walked over to the candle and touched it. It didn’t light on fire. “There must be another factor that I am missing to activate my abilities. WAIT! I GOT IT! EMOTIONS!” Cynthia was puzzled again. “Each time I used my powers the first time I was in a heavy emotional state: love, anger, fear, regret, and determination. The powers activated after my emotions changed. I just have to control my emotions.” Mark focused. He stared down the candle. Mark pointed a finger gun at it and with a straight face fired a fire bullet straight through the wall. “It, will take some practice. But I bet Superman broke more than a tractor or two while he was learning to control his abilities.

Cynthia sighed, “Well, I’ll help you with a costume design if you’d like. This will be, different.” Cynthia went to work designing the costume to incorporate Mark’s powers and to conceal his identity while also looking stylish.

After hours of sketching the pair finally agreed on one design. It was sleek and covered Mark completely. The fabric would have to be something so Mark could breathe while having a mask cover his face. The costume itself was stripped from top to bottom with the colors of the rainbow. Red all the way to violet. The stripes covered the costume front and back. This way Mark would have access to all his powers from the individual colors.

“You bastard!” Hector screamed. “You backstabbing, no good, asshole!”

“Hector I can explain everything!” Mark said trying to calm down Hector while covering his privates with one of Cynthia’s pillows. Cynthia covered herself up, not wanting to get involved.

“To every Caesar, his Brutus!” Hector began again. “When all seems right in the world there will always be a Brutus to ruin it all! Always the best friend! My greatest ally and future partner turned enemy!”

“It’s not that bad,” Mark said trying to underplay the colossal break in trust.

“Shakespeare said it best ‘Et tu, Brute?’ The only man he didn’t see coming ruins the great empire! The irony! The tragic irony! I send you out as my loyal friend to talk me up, and this is what happens!? My fragile heart cannot bear the pain of your betrayal!”

“Hector, it doesn’t have to end like this,” Mark pleaded.

“Oh, but it does. I should have known our plans would fall! They were too great to stand. Don’t follow me back home! I’m going to pack up and leave. It’ll be a bit so wander around, so I don’t have to look at you! Mark Radley, I hate you!” Hector screamed as he stormed off back to their shared house to pack his things out of Mark’s life. Hector had tears in his eyes. His best friend who had promised to help him woo the girl he fancied had slept with her instead. What did he do to deserve this? Was he not a good friend to Mark? No, he was always the best wingman. The Robin to Mark’s Batman; but no longer. No longer would Hector decide to play second fiddle to a man who would knowingly stab him in the back. He would make better friends. Cooler friends. Friends who wouldn’t hurt him. No, he didn’t need friends. All friends would eventually hurt him. No one was to be trusted. He would become a lone wolf who wouldn’t need anyone to survive. And so, Hector did. He moved out of Mark’s life and into a life of solidarity.

Hector finished college at the top of his class, right behind Mark. When he was done he applied for a job at Spectral Labs. They turned him down in favor of Mark. Hector walked to his favorite movie theater and there was Mark and Cynthia. Everywhere he went Mark was already there. Mark must be stalking him that was it. He knew everything that Hector liked. He was going to take it all away from Hector so that Hector would be unhappy. He hated Hector. He wanted to destroy his life. Hector knew this to be true. That’s why he slept with Cynthia in college, that’s why he did better than Hector on every test, that’s why he got the Spectral Labs job that rightfully belonged to Hector. Mark hated Hector. Hector ran. He ran until he ended up in front of Spectral Labs. He walked inside. “Do you have any open positions here?” Hector asked.

“Actually yes,” A guy in a business suit answered. “One just opened up last week. We’ve been looking for qualified candidates. Are you interested?” Hector nodded. The man looked at Hector. His eyes looked desperate but fierce. “Hey kid, why don’t you go get a coat on and introduce yourself to the scientists on research and development. I think you’ll fight right in.” Hector shook the man’s hand ferociously the guy looked sternly at him and told him to get moving. He smiled when Hector left. He saw a bit of himself in that desperate but brave man. Someone who was down on his luck and needed a strong job to push him into a better life. The military had done that for him, but this kid looked like he needed a home amongst his own people.

Hector got along well with his peers over the next five years. The fear in his heart slowly turned into suppressed anger that would one day burst, but for now was fine. Hector was one of General Hagen’s favorite scientists, and this allowed Hector a good amount of upward mobility. In just five years he became the head of research and development at Spectral Labs.

“This will be the greatest invention of the modern era!” Oh no, not him.

“What is it Dr. Radley?” Asked another scientist. It couldn’t be him.

“I have almost found a way to control the visible light spectrum!” Dr. Radley was jumping with excitement. He knew that giddiness from before.

“That’s impossible,” A different scientist scoffed. “And besides what good would that do? You going to paint your house twice as fast?”

“You don’t get it do you? If you can control the light spectrum the possibilities are limitless! Say someone is suffering from severe burns, its face is blood red, if you could control the light, you could remove the burn from the subject’s face. Or maybe you want to revive dead plants to increase food production? You could add the green into the dead plants and revitalize them!” It couldn’t be the same Mark Radley from college. No.

“That’s not how nature works Radley! The heat must be getting to your head!” The second scientist remarked. “Just changing the colors of something won’t do anything. Colors and the visible spectrum of light is all just perspective.”

“Mark, you crazy,” A third scientist barked.

“You just don’t see the potential of my invention! Every revolutionary genius is called crazy before they are proven to be ahead of their time!” Dr. Radley retorted. The crazy scientist talked until General Hagen told him to get back to work. Hector couldn’t believe it. He knew Mark had gotten accepted into Spectral Labs before him, but why now? Why was this the first time he was seeing Mark in five years? Why? The anger inside Hector started welling. He couldn’t contain himself, he had to leave. In a rush, Hector ran out of the building claiming gastrointestinal illness. The others let him be. Hector ran to his car and drove home. He unlocked the door. He grabbed a paper bag. Slowly he began breathing into the bag. Calm down Hector, Mark has probably forgotten you. He won’t ruin your life again, he can’t. But he will. Hector knew he would find a way to ruin his life once again just like he did before. Because Mark hated Hector, and Hector knew what he had to do. Late at night, Hector snuck back into Spectral Labs and saw Mark. Mark was working on some machine. It didn’t matter, Hector had to make Mark’s death look like an accident. But how could he do it? He didn’t know. For the next month or so, Hector worked out his plan to perfection. Nothing could go wrong. He would tinker with Mark’s machine once it was finished and then it would explode, Hector would leave, and Mark would fall victim to an accident created by himself. Then and only then would Hector be free from Mark’s hatred.

Hector came into Spectral Labs late one night and found Mark working on his machine like always. Hector quietly observed Mark from a safe location. From Mark’s coat he brought out two apples: a Granny Smith green, and a Red Delicious red. He put the apples on two desks and readied the machine. He took aim at the green, turned a knob and fired. A beam shot out of the machine and hit the Granny Smith apple dead on. Instantly, the previously green apple had now become colorless. Hector gasped. How did he do that? He did the same to the red apple. The two colorful apples were now colorless. Mark steadied the machine, took aim, and fired back at the colorless Red Delicious. A beautiful rainbow beam fired from the machine. More slowly this time, the colorless Red Delicious started to turn green. After a couple of seconds, it was done. The Red Delicious apple was now green. Right where the red apple stood, a green apple was there. Mark definitely caused this, but how? What was his machine? Mark took a bite. Hector slowly ran over to the machine. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he grabbed a couple of random wires and switched them around inside the colorful knob area. Hopefully this would cause the result Hector wanted. After chewing the apple chunk, Mark spat the apple chunk into the garbage can. Mark readied the machine to transfer the red coloring into the previously Granny Smith green apple. He took aim and fired. The beautiful beam once again shot out and hit the apple. Slowly the apple started to change colors. Mark gasped in terror. Hector gasped in amazement. Wanting to make sure his plan went off, Hector stayed and watched the bottom of the apple turn blue. Mark tried to turn off the machine. The beam from the machine fired in reverse off the apple back at Mark and the machine. Hector jumped for joy, until a colorless beam fired out of the machine and shot Hector right in the chest. The device exploded hurling Mark before destroying all of Spectral Labs. Hector was stunned. The building collapsed on both Hector and Mark. His plan had failed, but at least Mark could no longer ruin his life. They would both be dead.

Hector woke up in a hospital. Why was he in a hospital? No. No this can’t be. He can’t be in a hospital, he’s dead! Why was he in a hospital? Hector shook the bed. A nurse came running in. “Don’t move sir, you might hurt yourself more.” The nurse was a nice girl with a soft blonde bun. Hector ceased his movements. Why was he in the hospital? If he should be anywhere, it should be the morgue, and he shouldn’t be awake for that. “You’re lucky to be alive. A building collapsed on you. You poor man, you’ve been unconscious for over two weeks. I can’t begin to imagine the stress this must be causing you. We couldn’t find anyone to call, if you need someone to talk to, I’m just a button press away.” The nurse was a nice lady. She was nice to Hector. Hector liked that she was so nice to someone she didn’t even know. TWO WEEKS! HE HAD BEEN OUT FOR TWO WEEKS! UNCONSCIOUS! NOT DEAD! Well, at least he survived. He lived and Mark, Mark, he lived and Mark COULD STILL BE ALIVE TOO! But a building collapsed on him, he has to be dead. BUT A BUILDING COLLAPSED ON HECTOR, AND HE WAS ALIVE! MARK WAS ALIVE! HE FAILED! AND MARK WOULD KNOW THAT HECTOR TRIED TO KILL HIM AND KILL HECTOR AS REVENGE! HIS LIFE WOULD STILL BE RUINED! Hector started crying. Mark was alive and he was going to kill Hector. Hector was going to lose his life. No, Mark wouldn’t kill him, Hector would take everything Mark cared about away first, then kill him. Hector cried. Hector cried until the medication that the nurse slipped him kicked in, and he was asleep.

After a couple of weeks Hector left the hospital. He looked grim. Life was not what he expected. Life was not to be expected. Mark would no doubt be coming for him. Waiting just long enough for Hector to get out of the hospital to make his move. “Flowers!” A young lady cried. “Fresh flowers for those who feel blue!” She held out a blue flower towards Hector. He grabbed the flower. The lady smiled. Then, slowly, her smile faded into horror. Hector was afraid. Why was she in terror? Was it Mark? No. Hector looked down at the flower. The once blue beauty was now a lifeless gray sack that held no resemblance to its former glory. Hector’s eyes grew large. He dropped the flower and fled the other direction. The florist was screaming. Hector ran. He didn’t want to get involved. How could he explain a blue flower turning gray and lifeless in his hands? Wait. Hector stopped running. What happened at the lab? What was Mark working on? Think Hector. An annoying voice shouted in the back of his head. I have almost found a way to control the visible light spectrum! MARK! THIS WAS HIS FAULT! HIS MACHINE DID THIS TO HIM! A light machine that could transfer colors! That was his project! But before it could do that, it took the color away. When the machine exploded, I was close enough! I got shot! A beam hit me in the chest! Hector remembered the events at the lab. A beam had shot him in the chest. It must have been a colorless beam, and that somehow transferred the machine’s power to him. He had superpowers! Hector smiled, then sulked. He didn’t have superpowers, he had a super destroyer ability. Mark couldn’t even give him superpowers the right way! He was going to finish Mark off the right way this time, with his bare hands. He’d drain the life out of Mark, the same way he did to that flower. But, he’d need a cool costume. If he was going to have villainy superpowers, he might as well go all the way. And he’d need a name too. Oh well, he’d think of it later.

An alarm went off. Spectral City First National Bank was being robbed by armed gunmen. The teller has his hands up. “Just give me the money please, and I won’t have to put a bullet in between your eyeballs. That would be unpleasant,” The British-Canadian gunman said. The teller understood what was going on. He slowly walked back and told the other tellers to put their money in a sack. They all did so. When they were done, the teller handed the money to the crook leader. “Thank you. Her majesty would have appreciated your service.” The gunman signaled to the others. They all started to head out with the money. Suddenly, the doors were frozen over. “What the bloody hell is this racket?” A figure appeared behind the ice wall. Bullets flew. They all stopped when they hit the ice. A man size hole burst through the ice. Out of the hole came a man in a rainbow morph suit.

“Freeze evildoers! I am the symbol of justice in this city: Rainbow Man!” Shouted the rainbow morph suit guy. The crooks laughed. The violet on the man’s suit glowed, outshot purple rope tying up the five crooks. “Don’t laugh in the face of justice or justice will laugh back at you!” The British-Canadian spat at Rainbow Man. He glowed orange and punched the British-Canadian gunman in the face. He was out cold. Rainbow Man glowed green before jumping off out of view. The cops went in through the ice hole and arrested the criminals. Rainbow Man landed on top of a building. He took of his mask. Mark sighed. That was fun. He enjoyed being able to help out the authorities and take down criminals. The less casualties the better. He put his mask back on and leapt home. Home was a couple leaps away. He decided he would leap through the park. He had to stop in-between leaps to let his power recharge. He was about to leap again when he heard something.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” A mysterious voice shouted. Mark was confused.

“What do you need citizen?” Mark said in his Rainbow Man generic hero voice.

“I KNOW IT’S YOU MARK! I THOUGHT ABOUT IT DEEPLY! THERE WAS NO WAY THAT I COULD SURVIVE AND GET SUPERPOWERS WITHOUT YOU ALSO GETTING SUPERPOWERS. AND WHEN I SAW RAINBOW PERSON SAVES BANK ON THE NEWS, I KNEW IT HAD TO BE YOU!” Out of the shadows stepped a man in a dark grey morph suit with a Rorschach mask, except the mask didn’t move, it stayed on this one demented looking face. “Everything you are, I’m not. I am your opposite. I am your Negative.”

“Who are you? And how do you know my name?” Mark stopped doing his hero voice. This was too serious.

“Isn’t it obvious Mark? Who in this world have you shamed into non-existence? Who in this world have you wronged? Who could possibly be your Negative other than me.” The man removed his mask. Mark gasped. Hector King stood a mere ten feet from Mark. Mark couldn’t believe it. Hector put his mask back on. “Yes Mark, it is I, Hector King. The same Hector King whose life you ruined back in college. You betrayed me. You ruined my trust in people. IT DESTROYED MY LIFE! I was lost. But then I got a job at Spectral Labs. I was happy. But OF COURSE YOU HAD TO BE THERE TOO! WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH DESTROYING MY LIFE ONCE! YOU HAD TO FINISH THE JOB! WELL I’M NOT GOING TO LET YOU! THIS TIME, YOU’LL DIE!” Hector charged at Mark. Mark froze. Hector King. And he wanted to kill me. Mark shook his head. He wouldn’t let Hector kill him. He just became a superhero, and he liked it. Plus, he and Cynthia were patching up their broken relationship. No, he had too much to live for too die. Mark glowed orange. He readied his fist and punched at the charging Hector. Hector caught the punch. Mark fell to the ground. That’s weird. “Didn’t know my powers? I thought you’d be smart enough to guess since I am your Negative. My powers don’t do anything for me, they only take from others. Your color manipulation won’t do anything.” Hector grabbed Mark by the throat with his right hand. “I hate you.” Hector squeezed. Mark felt his life draining. He stopped resisting Hector’s grasp and punched. He connected right on Hector’s left temple. Hector dropped him. Mark glowed green and jumped backwards. He didn’t need to touch Hector to beat him. He glowed red. Mark readied his finger guns and fired. Hector dodged frantically trying to evade all the fire bullets. Mark rapidly fired more shots. A few connected. Hector took cover behind the park fountain. Mark glowed blue. The water from the fountain started rising. Hector took off. The water chased after him like a raging rapid. Hector dove towards Mark. Mark tried to jump away but Hector caught his foot. Hector stomped on Mark’s ankle. Mark shouted in agony. Hector was filled with rage. He kicked Mark multiple times in the side. Mark glowed yellow and sped off since Hector did not hold him down.

Mark hid a block away from Hector. He tested his ankle. It hurt tremendously. He quickly iced it and fastened it with some rope. He wouldn’t be able to run too much more. Mark took a deep breath in, glowed yellow and ran back towards Hector, full speed. Mark screamed loudly. Hector turned, but not fast enough to see Mark super speed into him. Mark’s tackle sent the two ex-friends flying nearly thirty feet just above the ground. They both hit hard. The dirt had seen the worst impact. Mark was starting to fade. Hector pushed himself upwards out of sheer anger. He hobbled over to Mark. “You. Have. Ruined. My. Life. For the last. Time. Prick.” Mark rolled over. Hector leaned down to Mark. He reached his arms out. Mark glowed violet and surprised Hector. Hector flew back fifteen feet until he hit a tree. Hector tried to resist. The rope had tied to the tree, constraining Hector. “NO! I WON’T LET YOU WIN! YOU CAN’T WIN! I’M SUPPOSED TO WIN!” Hector fell unconscious with his last words. Mark did too.

“Hey, Rainbow Man, wake up,” A police officer was tapping Mark on the shoulder. “Wake up.” Mark gave a muffled yes in return. “We got the guy you tied up to the tree. Seems he did a number on you. I need you to get up, so we can get you to the hospital.” Rainbow Man nodded.

“Just don’t let them take off the mask. Secret identity and all,” Mark managed to get out. The officer nodded. Mark pushed himself upwards. A couple of officers helped carry him into the back of an ambulance. At the hospital, the medical staff took off Rainbow Man’s costume. All except the mask. They left on the mask.

Mark woke up the next morning, got his costume, and left a nice note thanking the people of the hospital and the police officers and paramedics who brought him in. He hopped out the window, flashed green, and jumped home.

At home he collapsed on the couch moaning about the pain. “You are such a big baby. If the pain hurt that bad, you would have stayed at the hospital,” Cynthia said. She helped Mark out of his suit and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I’m glad you’re alright. I like you too much for you to go die on me out there.” Mark hugged Cynthia. They were both glad that Mark was home and so was Spectral City, knowing that somewhere among the populous, lied a hero. A hero clad in rainbow colors, saving the city from all danger, from now until the foreseeable future.