DocuMental

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  Deadguy was poised on the corner of an alley. The sounds of a group of men harassing someone could be heard echoing from it. George was cowering behind him. "Alright, Georgie Boy," he whispered. "On my word, jump out and start filming."

  "What," George sputtered. "I jump out first, they'll kill me!"

  "Not if you jump out behind me," DG said.

  "You never said that you were jumping out first."

  "GO!" Our Hero spun around the corner and stood in the open alley. George stumbled out behind him. "Hey, jackasses," he exclaimed. "Knock off all that evil." The crooks turned to look at him. At first they were confused, then a few started chuckling.

  "What have we got here," one of the men said in an oddly distinct Brooklyn accent. "Someone thinks they're a hero."

  "Kids, I'm a Professional Hero," DG corrected. The gang reacted in mock surprise. A few started cracking up.

  "Oh, a 'Professional' Hero," the man repeated. "Hey, we got a pro here." The gang started laughing some more. The man took a few steps forward. He was within striking distance of Deadguy. George took a few steps back. "You might want to tell your little director friend to look away."

  "Why," Deadguy asked. "Afraid of getting your ass kicked on film?" The man took a swing, but Deadguy leaned back and avoided it. "Nice try." Our Hero flew a quick right hook that neither George nor the gang leader saw coming. The leader staggered back.

  "You just screwed up," the leader yelled. Deadguy just held his arms out, inviting the gang to try and defeat him. Two men ran up, taking a few swings at his face and stomach. He deftly avoided them, then hit one with the back of his fist and kicked the other in the abdomen. Another ran up with a rusty metal chain.

  "Seriously," DG questioned. "Where the hell did you get that?" He backed away, avoiding the swinging metal chain. Deadguy held up his arm and caught the chain around it, wincing slightly at the pain. He reached out and yanked the chain from the guy's hand. "Give me that. You could hurt somebody with it." He took a step forward, like he was about to attack the guy with the chain. The guy panicked and ran off. Our Hero threw away the chains. "Next."

  One of the thugs flipped out a switchblade and ran at him. Deadguy just looked at the thug like he was an idiot before moving to the side and kneeing him in the groin. While the thug was hunched over, Deadguy slammed his elbow into the attacker's back, causing him to collapse onto the cold ground. The sudden sharp pain of another knife stabbing into his side broke him attention.

  "Looks like someone's going to die the hero," the gang leader quipped in Deadguy's ear. The blade was quickly removed, causing another sharp pain. He fell to the ground, clutching his side. Blood started to cover his hand and shirt. The gang started laughing some more as they ran off. George walked up, still filming.

  "Are you...alright," George asked, a little worried about what was about to happen.

  "I just got shanked," he replied. "Give me a moment." He started to breathe a little heavier. He closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Moments passed, then Deadguy sucked in a large amount of air. He blinked a few times and shook his head. "Alright, back to normal." He stood and pulled his hand away. The only remaining evidence of the fatal attack was the slice in his shirt. He lifted his shirt slightly to show George and the camera the impacted area. There was a large scab that grew old and fell off, leaving a slight scar. The scar healed up and the area of skin looked as if it had never been punctured. "Good as new. Now, let's go get something to eat."

  They had returned to the same food court they had met up last time. Deadguy was eating a massive basket of fries while George just sat there. The teen was still in a state of shock from earlier. Our Hero stopped and snapped his fingers a few time. "Yo. Earth to George," he said. "Please tell me your still breathing."

  George shook his head. "You...you died," he exclaimed. "You...died. You died and...and...and you came back."

  "Yeah," DG replied. "That's kinda why I'm called 'Deadguy'. I die. I come back. It's a thing."

  "But...how? Why?"

  Deadguy stabbed a few fries into the little cup of ketchup and chomped down on them. "I have no frickin' idea," he answered. "It just...happens. Best not to think about it."

  "Why not," George questioned. "Do you know the benefits your ability would have for the world?"

  "Yeah, and when the militaries of the world get a hold of my ability, this planet will be plunged into eternal war,"he said. He scooped up a few more fries and dipped them in the ketchup. "Trust me kid, it's for the best."

  "But...but...there would be no more death. No one would have to die."

  Deadguy crossed his arms and rested them on the table. He looked at George , not with anger or rage, but a look that only a person who bears a great burden could give. "I don't want anyone to die anymore than you do. I don't. But if there's no death, then what's the point of life?" George sat back, thinking. "If no one dies, this world will get crowded. Not only crowed, but a lot more people would be jobless due to limited positions to fill. Granted, the soulless corporations that make money off of the sick and dying will go bankrupt within a week, which in and of itself is a very tempting reason to have my ability research and released to the public." He grabbed a few more fries and scooped out the last of the ketchup. "These cups are never big enough, are they?" He looked back at George. "I'm a Hero. I have to make sure the world doesn't descend into chaos. If that means I have to keep this ability to myself for the time being, then so be it."

  The skylight above the food court shattered. George nearly fell out of his seat as Deadguy casually turned to look. The Bomber Twins fell into the center and landed on a few of the tables. "This monument to decadence will burn to the ground," they said in unison.

  "Will you look at that," Deadguy said in monotone. "They decided to crash the party." He stood up from the table. "I'm done with my fries anyway." He pulled out his phone and tossed it to George. "Georgie Boy, get to safety, call Jill, and keep that camera rolling."

  "You're going to fight them by yourself," he asked.

  He ignored the teen. "Hey kids," he called out, walking towards them. "Did you two miss me?"