It was a cool November Wednesday, and San Leandro High was excused at an early 1:55 PM, meaning that Steven Michaels just got home. He officially turned 16 just yesterday, but the party was on last Saturday. He got a lot of the usual: new clothes, gift cards, money; but Steven also got the newest installment of his favorite video game line: Pro Slam-Down. And since he had about a half hour or so until his younger brothers got home, he decided to test it out.
He opened the tray to his game player, the Play-Location 2, placed the disc inside, and switched the television on and to video. The player retracted the tray, booted up, and uploaded the information from the disc.
“It’s time to get intense! Pro Slam-down: Increased Intensity!” said the voice that came over the television speakers.
“Alright! Let’s begin with… ‘Create-A-Character’!” Steven proclaimed with excitement. After adjusting his glasses, he got to work by creating multiple characters, each with his own unique style and area of expertise. The characters’ back story was that these characters, five in all, were one in the same; they were the exact same person who could switch between the styles when needed (just not in the video game).
The first wore camouflage jeans, but not the traditional green and brown, but a powerful blue and golden-yellow. His shirt was a contrast, a silver-white, and his hair was the same. His eyes were deep blue, much like the blue in the jeans. His expertise would be physical strength and fighting style would be knock-down, drag-out, street brawling.
The second wore almost all red: his jeans were red, his shirt was red, his hair and shoes were red. However, his eyes were an emerald green. He would be very different from the first, fast on his feet and acrobatic in a fight.
The third, dressed in yellow, would be a bit more technically sound, being that this was a wrestling game. Therefore, he’d be agile and intelligent, and would know almost all the moves there were to be used. That’d be both his expertise and his style: technique.
The fourth, wearing blue, would be much like the first, in that the style of fighting would be intense and brutal. However, he’d use his physical strength to throw and slam rather than punch and kick. His best attribute would then be endurance, both durability and stamina.
The fifth wore clothing that was nothing like the other four. Clad in pure black, he had jeans, gloves, elbow pads, and a no-sleeve shirt. No camouflage, no flashy designs, just darkness. He would be the most aggressive, with expertise in submission holds.
As Steven selected the “Save Game” option, the television screen frequently went between static, the video game’s save window, and more static. Simultaneously, the game console was making several sounds. It whirred, croaked, squawked, it was like it was tweaking or something. Additionally, the stereo system turned on, and the volume went up and down so that the music coming from the speakers went from barely audible to near-deafening. This strange sequence of technical difficulties lasted only a few seconds.
The TV and game console calmed down and the stereo became quiet.
“Weird…” he muttered. Then, ZAP! He was hit with a rush of electricity!
The power surge passed from console to remote, then from remote to Steven‘s body. He felt the energy flowing through his hands, legs, torso and even his teeth. The shock was over as suddenly as it had hit, and Steven slumped to the ground.
An unknown amount of time later, Steven woke up and made his way to his feet. He noticed that his vision was blurred, which didn’t make sense since he was wearing his glasses. He took them off to see if there were any smudges or smears, and miraculously, he could see everything perfectly! He had his vision back to 20/20! Steven knew he would have to tell his parents how this came about, but would they believe him? And if they did, would they panic?
If they did believe him and panic, he would obviously assure them that he wasn’t mortally wounded, didn’t need hospital care, and didn’t feel any after affects. Not that he’d know what the after affects of electrocution were.
The only thing different was a slight, tingling, itchy feeling. It was like that same kind of feeling someone gets when their foot falls asleep. It came and went, so Steven didn’t think much of it.
When his father came home, Steven’s brothers in tow, he was asked why he wasn’t wearing his glasses, as he normally should be.
Steven thought for a moment how he should start.
“Now, Dad, don’t panic or anything, but I believe I was electrocuted.”
A long pause, only disturbed by his brothers rummaging in their room down the hall.
“Uh… how? When?”
“Around 2 o’ clock, while I was playing on the Play-Location.”
Another pause.
“I’m okay. Actually, better, if you consider that I can see without glasses again.”
“Uh… Okay…” Steven’s dad took his son’s word that he was okay, and went about his own work.
Later that afternoon, Steven’s father informed his mother, Mrs. Michaels, about what had happened to their son.
“What?!” she yelled from the kitchen. “And he’s okay?!”
“Look for yourself”, Mr. Michaels told her.
She peeked her head into the dining room and found Steven and his brothers watching television in the living room. As far as she could tell, there was nothing wrong, unless you call having his perfect vision back “wrong”. As her husband did, Mrs. Michaels decided to let things be, and worry about it more if something else happens. While eating dinner, there was a special news report. According to the anchor man, there were several reports of mishaps involving electrical devices coming in from all over the state. “No one was severely harmed, let alone killed, and as far as anyone knows, no electrocutions.”
Steven almost choked on his food at that last statement as his brothers laughed, saying that their brother was “pretty special.”
Before going to bed, the tingling came back, but only stayed for a few moments. Steven was fine all morning until about 10 o’ clock, in Mr. Wever’s 10th Grade English Class. The tingling had returned.
But what was different about it’s return was that it wasn’t going away! Steven waited a good 20 minutes, but it was still hanging around. He wasn’t going to be able to focus with the itchy feeling bugging him, so Steven excused himself to the restroom.
Steven tried everything he could think of to get rid of the itch: scratching it away, shaking it off, even hitting the worst areas. He even tried doing all three at once. Had anyone else been in the same room, that last choice would have made them think Steven was crazy. And for a moment, he thought he was.
While kicking and scratching, Steven caught his reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. He turned to get a better look. Steven could of sworn his hair was no longer its usual dark brown, but a bright silvery-white. And his eyes were a deep sapphire blue. And his clothes had changed from a pair of blue denim jeans and a white-and-black long-sleeve-tee into a pair of blue-and-golden-yellow camouflage pants and a silver short sleeve t-shirt. He was so distracted by this sudden change that Steven almost forgot that the tingling finally went away. Of course, that’s because he was more worried about how he was going to change his appearance back, and how it changed in the first place. He thought that maybe this was somehow because of the power surge. Before he could come up for ways how, something exploded outside in the schoolyard. Steven rushed to the window to see what it was.
There was a cloud of smoke and dust in the center of the grass field that was bordered by the three halls of the school’s main building. The restroom Steven was in was on the second floor of the third hall, which was to the left of the dust cloud. As the cloud cleared, shadows of figures could be seen; there were six figures standing together, and each one was different from the others. As the cloud completely vanished, their actual appearances proved just that.
The six unknown figures stood in a circle, with two in the center and four on the outside. One of the four on the outside was incredibly big, both tall and wide. He wore black-and-white hunting gear, complete with giant hunting boots that not even a sasquatch could fill. What was really eye-catching about this guy was that his skin was yellow; not yellowish, but actually yellow; a rich, school bus, French’s Mustard, Crayola Crayon yellow.
Two of the figures were hunched over and looking from side to side, like they were looking for something in particular. The way they were standing suggested that perhaps they were poised, ready to pounce on whatever came into their field of sight and rip it apart. One had a thick mane of hair and dark tan skin, like that of a lion’s. The other was bald, with pointy ears, and his skin was literally black like a panther’s. They both wore what looked like wrestling gear: lace-up boots, knee pads, and those wrestling shorts made out of spandex.
The fourth person on the outside was the only one that looked remotely normal. He wore black long shorts, sneakers, gloves, a tank top, and his hair style was one of those faux hawks (crew cut on the sides, spiked hair down the middle). Well, compared to the three circus stars he was next to, that one was normal. The one thing that made him seem abnormal was how bright his hair color was. It was a neon orange, almost like one of those signs, and Steven could swear his hair looked transparent.
The two in the center were hard to see, since that big, yellow bus with arms was standing between them and Steven‘s sight. From what Steven could see, one was male, and the other female. The male wore slacks and a long sleeve business shirt, while the female had on a pair of purple high heels, pink stockings, and a pale pink dress. Both had grayish-silver hair, yet Steven could tell they were both young and attractive. The young man looked athletic, his muscular, lean physique was still noticeable under his expensive and cleanly pressed duds. The young woman appeared to be the shortest in the group, but even from as far away as Steven was, he could tell she was slender and shapely; in other words, incredibly hot. The young man took a step forward and began to speak, surprisingly enough, in perfect English.
“People of Earth: I am ‘The Heir to the Throne,’ and your worst nightmare; I AM Zorb!” Clearly, “Zorb” was the leader of this small group, making the four surrounding him his lackeys or henchmen, and the girl was most likely his second-in-command. He turned to look at the thug on his left, the one with the neon hair. “Go inside, take anything that’s valuable.” All four of cronies moved towards the nearest entrance, a double door in the corner of the second hall, which was to my right.
“Obviously these guys are up to no good. But what can I do?” Steven looked himself over from head to toe. “Does this… ‘transformation’ have anything to do with that power surge?” He looked out the window again to see that the intruders had been intercepted by the school’s campus security.
“Hold it,” ordered the lead security guard. “You guys aren’t going--” SMACK! I could barely see the big yellow one back hand the guard, knocking him into his two backups. The group of thugs then casually stepped over the small pile of guards and continued towards the double doors, laughing the whole time at the pathetic attempt to apprehend them.
“Figures. A whole swat team would have trouble stopping the big yellow one; only three school security guards against all four is just stupid,” Steven commented to himself. He looked himself over again, remembering how bad he was at sports. “And it’d be completely idiotic for me to go out there and face them alone. But it’d also be cowardly to just hide inside this bathroom and let these guys have their way with my classmates and teachers without even trying to protect them.”
Steven rushed out of the restroom and down the stairs. He made a hard right turn and ran down Hall Three to catch up to Zorb’s men. As Steven entered the lobby that connected Halls Two and Three, they were just entering the door. Without thinking or hesitating, he rushed at the big yellow one, knocking him into the three smaller ones. The man-lion was the first to get up. Once again, without thinking Steven lunged at his opponent, hitting him in the waist and driving him back out the double doors. They fell to the ground just outside as the doors shut close. Steven got in a few good punches before one of the other three came back out and blindsided me from behind, knocking me onto the grass field. Steven sprang to his feet and faced the attacker; it was the other half-man, half-animal person. He helped his fellow hybrid to his feet, and the two shifted into some sort of attack formation, with the half-lion in front of the half-panther.
The lead man then charged at full force, but Steven’s body moved out of the way. His hands took hold of the enemy’s pants waist and mane, swung him around and sent him into his teammate. The lead one hit the second in his stomach like a battering ram, and while he was doubled over, Steven hit the second in the face with a dropkick, knocking him to the floor dazed. Steven followed up by grabbing the lead under the right knee and left armpit. He then lifted and rotated the man-lion, then slammed him onto the concrete with a thud.
Steven amazed himself with this show of athleticism and strength.
Did I just do all that?
Before his mind could even begin to understand what he had just done, Steven was blindsided from behind again. He struggled to my feet, holding the back of my head while I did. Last I knew, the only members of Zorb’s crew that were behind me were the girl and Zorb himself. Steven turned to see who hit him, and sure enough, it was Zorb.
“Stay back,” he instructed his henchmen. “I’ll take care of this personally.”
Zorb grabbed hold of Steven’s shirt collar and hurled him onto the grassy field behind him. Steven rolled over and made it to his knees by the time Zorb started talking again.
“Are you human?” Zorb asks Steven as he walks over with a bit of a swagger. “You must be if you live on this primitive planet; you see, technically, we ‘aliens’ aren’t allowed to even come near Earth. Of course, I could care less about the rules, but I’m getting off topic. You, sir, have strength and skill that far surpasses that of any normal human’s. For that matter, I bet even the best human athletes and soldiers couldn‘t do what you did.” Zorb and Steven were looking at the battered henchmen when a look of astonishment came over Zorb’s face. “That’s what they’re doing here, isn’t it? They’re making super humans.” He looks down at Steven with wonder, and Steven look up at him with confusion.
“What are you talking about?” Steven snapped at him. “Aliens? Making super humans? Well, actually, now that you mention aliens, I was wondering what was up with how you guys look and stuff, and aliens actually makes sense. But super humans? Dude, this a high school, not some secret laboratory, or military base, or whatever the heck you thought it was.”
“What?!” Zorb blurted with disbelief. “This is a school?!” He turns to his female partner-in-crime. “Zita!” Zorb barked rather angrily. “I thought you said this was some kind of Earth government facility!”
“I said I thought this was some kind of Earth government facility.” Zita explained. “Obviously, I guessed wrong. And don’t yell at me!”
“I wasn’t yelling at you, I was just clarifying something,” Zorb shouted back, which sounded a bit like yelling. Zorb looked back at Steven, then looked rather embarrassed. “What? Oh, like you’ve never argued with your girlfriend.”
“Actually, no, I haven’t,” Steven replied aloud. Then to himself, he added, “Only because I’ve yet to have a girlfriend.”
“And you four,” Zorb barked as he turned to look at his crew, who were idly standing by the doors. “Even though this is only a school, there are still people inside. Therefore, this has now become a hold-up.” He turned back to Steven and withdrew a gun made out of gold metal. “I’ll keep the super human from following while you take anything of value, just as we had planned before we knew this was only a school.” Zorb cast looked over at Zita again with a look of annoyance, which she responded to by sticking her tongue out at him.
Steven watched the four thugs as they headed back inside, then set his eyes back on Zorb.
I know the only way I can stop him without getting shot is to move when he wasn’t ready, Steven though, but I how? My best bet is to go right as he cocks the--
Chuck-chick; Zorb had pulled back on his golden gun’s slide, loading the first bullet into the chamber.
Crap!
Steven stumbled a bit as he ran full speed right at Zorb. Steven did catch him off guard, because Zorb let out a “What?!” Steven tackled him to the ground, but Zorb didn’t lose grip of his weapon. He tried to angle his arm so he could shoot Steven in the head, but Steven grabbed Zorb’s wrist and wrestled it to the ground. Steven smacked his wrist against the dirt and grass a couple times to try and knock the gun out of his hand. Zorb kept reaching over with his other hand, trying to claw Steven’s face to stop him, but Steven elbowed him in the chest to make him stop, then continued with the wrist-slamming. Zorb finally let go of his golden gun after three slams, and taking advantage of the situation, Steven took the gun and chucked it as far as he could. Without pausing, Zorb punched Steven in the side of the head, wrapped his arm around Steven’s neck in a sleeper-hold, and rolled over so that his full body weight was on top of Steven‘s.
“Zita!” Zorb barked again. “Zita, grab my gun hwha-?!”
Zorb was interrupted by the fact that Steven got to his feet, thereby lifting Zorb off his feet. Steven then grabbed him behind the head and flung him onto the ground. Zorb almost immediately got back to his feet, but was just as quickly met by Steven’s right hand, which hit him in the jaw like a swing from a baseball bat.
After catching his breath, Steven pulled Zorb up by his shirt collar to his feet. Steven later realized he probably shouldn’t have, since Zorb immediately regained his focus and punched Steven right back. It was almost as if Steven hadn’t punched him at all. Zorb tried to run past Steven towards Zita, who had just picked up the gun, but Steven grabbed him by the back of his business shirt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Steven pulled him back, turned him around, and instinctively hoisted him onto his shoulders so that Zorb’s head was by Steven’s left ear. All at once, Steven shifted his weight to his left foot, pushed off the ground with his right, and shoved Zorb off his shoulders. Zorb swung through the air in an arc, with his shoulders as the central pivot. For what felt like an hour, both Zorb and Steven hung in midair. Suddenly, both Zorb and Steven were brought down hard and fast by gravity, Steven on his knees and Zorb on his back.
Still on his knees, Steven’s mind was hit with a sudden wave of realization: within the last ten minutes, he, with almost negative sports skills, had knocked over alien-thugs the size of pro-wrestlers over like bowling pins, used one thug as a weapon, and just lifted the leader onto his shoulders and over his head.
Steven got to his feet as Zorb’s cronies returned outside, their pockets filled with items they took from the students. Steven and the thieves locked eyes and prepared to fight, but he was running out of energy and wouldn’t be able to fight off all four at once. To make matters worse, Zorb got to his feet, though slowly and with some difficulty. When he made it to his feet, he looked Steven in the eye. That’s when he noticed for the first time that Zorb’s eyes were a golden yellow, like an alley cat’s.
Steven took a step back and prepared for another fight, but to everyone’s surprise, Zorb ordered his men to leave the stolen goods here.
“What?!”
“Leave it!” The team of thugs followed his orders and emptied their pockets. Money, cell phones and wallets were left on the ground in a pile.
“What? Why?” Steven was confused; Zorb’s team had a 5-to-1 advantage against him. Why would he stop now?
“Listen to me, earth punk: you’re good, good enough to catch me with my guard down.” Zorb straightened up, and Steven could hear his back crackle and pop. “I’ll let you relish this small victory, but we’ll be back to settle the score.”
Zorb’s team gathered together on the grass field, and Zorb had to use Zita as support in order to stand.
That slam I delivered him must of hurt his back more than I thought.
Zorb turned to Steven, and his eyes burned with a vengeful fire. Zita put her hand to her ear and touched an earring. Suddenly, a light surrounded the group, and the six of them vanished instantly.
“How did they…?” Steven wondered. “Duh, they’re aliens; the light was probably a teleporter ray or something.”
After the alien robbers left, it was about time for lunch, so Steven hurried back to the second floor restroom to try and change back. It was a bit of a hassle, though. Apparently, some of the students had been outside watching the fight ever since “their hero” had arrived on the scene, and Steven hadn‘t even noticed until now. He pushed his way through the crowd as people thanked him, cheered him, and even tried to get an autograph. Reluctantly, Steven signed a few. A young man like Steven couldn’t deny a request from female fans. Especially ones as cute as the two that are blocking my way upstairs. Steven signed their notebooks, “To (their name here) from your local superhero, The Spektrum.” As the girls giggled and swooned, he hurried to the restroom to hide, wondering how the name “Spektrum“ popped into his head.
It took Steven a good twenty minutes to solve the problem of how to look like Steven again. He tried keywords and phrases, like “transform” and “change back,“ but none worked. Steven assumed that the power surge had to have something to do with it. He mulled the memory of the power surge in his mind for awhile until he remembered about the video game. That’s when Steven recognized the outfit he was wearing. It was the exact same as one of the five characters he had just created the other day. But he didn’t think that information was going to solve the problem.
“Or will it?” Steven remembered that the video game came with a special “toggle appearances” ability, allowing a character to add, remove, or completely exchange accessories and clothing depending on the occasion. Seeing as how Steven needed to change back completely, he figured that was worth trying.
“Toggle appearance?” he commanded.
In a flash, Steven’s clothing changed back to the blue jeans and long-sleeve-tee he was wearing before this all happened. “How come I didn’t think of this in the first place?” Steven shrugged that thought off and headed downstairs. He picked up his things from Mr. Wever’s classroom, and met with his friends outside at their usual meeting place.
The whole school was a buzz with talk of what just happened.
“Hey, guys! Did you see what just happened?”
“I know; wait, you don’t think it’ll happen again, do you?”
As Steven heard all this and more, he smiled and thought, I guess this is going to be a pretty sweet sixteenth, if I do say so myself.”
