Back in my hometown of Ho Chi Minh City, I was the most courageous hero in the city. It’s such a freaking shame that people didn’t appreciate my heroism. It must be my scarred face and being only 5’4″. I saw some gangsters harassing some innocent people. It was as good a time as any to use some of my powers.
“Hey, give us your money!”
One of them commanded while his cronies held them at knife point. There was no way I was going to let them have their way. I ran as fast as I could to fight them. My fists became rock solid and whacked them in their heads. I saw their blood flying and I began to grin uncontrollably. They tried fighting back, and I blocked their shots before transforming into my liquid form. Part of my arm entered into the criminal’s ear which flooded his head until it exploded in front of me. The gore got on my face and it was like a mask of fear for my enemies. The rest immediately ran away. Before I could address the people I saved, they screamed and ran away.
Just another day in being a vigilante. Maybe I would be better in a team.
C. M. B. Bell's Writing Universe 