The After-Hero
Page 3
It's another dimension this time. Pitch-fork trees, fissures, orange skies -- the works. The smoke from my portable molecular disintegration cannon obscures my vision. The hero, having rescued his beautiful, blue-skinned alien princess (obviously sexually compatible) has left the planet, his ship wobbling. The villain, an inter-dimensional demon from a galaxy that my human tongue can't even pronounce, obviously survived. He's clawing his way towards me on an arm, a leg, two tentacles and three testicles (I think), trailing the charred remains of the other half of his body behind (and the hero thought the laser-sword offed him).
So while the hero and his alien beauty are racing to stop the Evil Alliance (that I will eventually have to destroy) I blast what's left of the demon until he stumbles into a chasm. With an inter-dimensional howl, he disappears into the gloom. I stand above the abyss. I look down but it's pure, impenetrable darkness. I toe a pebble in and I don't hear it hit the bottom. I'm not stupid. I know he isn't dead--he's hanging off that ledge right there, just out of sight. But in my mind, my girlfriend keeps nagging why I'm never around. In my mind, there are twenty dumbass heroes doing their jobs half-assedly, each one of whom I'm going to have to follow around like a cute puppy's owner, shoveling their shit in to sanitary plastic bags for the rest of my life. In my mind, I'm tired of all this.
I look to the heavens, to crystal castles with hovering waterfalls, to stars with real names. I want to be the one to wobble away for a change. I look to the stars, and I see my face plastered to hulls of interstellar advertising ships, flashing on holographic screens. Riches, fame, glory. All I have to do is wobble away, just assume that the abyss killed the demon, come back for a sequel. Do I truly have a hero worship complex?
I hear a sound behind me. I turn around. The demon's there. I hesitated too long, like a good hero. His tentacle swipes me and pushes me into the abyss where he was himself but a moment ago. I hang on the ledge. I don't breathe, I don't even blink. Are all the fame and parties and hot alien babes worth this? Definitely.
The villain presumes me dead, and I hear him shuffling away, off to find the hero and the alien princess. I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm about to climb out when I hear footsteps. The fellow leaning over the lip of the abyss kinda looks like me - like an evil twin brother, or something.
With a cigarette between his lips, he asks more himself than me, "What did the villain forget to do?" He lines his phase-recalibrating bazooka with my head. "Check the ledge to see if the hero's hanging on."
An Excerpt from
ASHES OF HEROES
Book One of the War of Regret Series
By Gabriel Archer & Jack Canaan