The Blaze Beneath the Cape

I was the first superhero the world had ever seen. When I first got my powers, I thought I’d change the world for the better, but I was wrong. Not that my powers are useless; most people would kill to have what I have. I’m not exaggerating either; several people have attempted to kill me for my phoenix wings, idiots. That’s not how the wings work. Besides, if they knew what it was actually like having burning wings, they’d feel pity, not jealousy.

I can’t blame them, though. I always wanted phoenix wings, and who wouldn’t? Flying through the air, taking out bad guys, unharmed by bullets, and healing from wounds. It’s the stuff of dreams! Instead, I spend most days rubbing fireproof gel over my body. You see, fire wings are great, but not when they constantly burn you, and I don’t just mean little burns. The wings put out a temperature that can burn human skin up to ten feet away.

I may be the first superhero the world has ever seen, but I don’t want this anymore. It took three weeks in a lab for the scientists to find a gel strong enough to protect me. To make it worse, I was conscious the whole time. The wings burned me to a crisp, healed me, and then repeated that cycle about once every ten minutes. No person should ever have to experience the agony that brings even once, let alone for three weeks straight. I’ve had people tell me that my situation sounded like a living hell, but they were wrong. Hell would have been a nice vacation compared to that.

Still, It’s not all bad now. If I apply my heat gel every morning, I don’t end up like a forgotten marshmallow in a campfire. Because of that, I’ve been able to help out here and there. Just in the last month, I’ve taken out three terrorist groups, stopped seven robberies, and almost saved a cat. Of course, the news only covered the cat story. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. The cat survived; it just had a few first-degree burns and no hair left. Better than dead, though, right?