He started out trying to be a good guy. Used his powers to steal from some wealthy Wall Street crooks and gave the money to homeless people. But some of the people he helped ratted him out, and after being shot in the stomach and told to never show his face in New York again, I guess he decided helping others was overrated.

It’s not that he wants to hurt anyone; he’s a gentle guy, really.

But if you don’t hand over the money, I’ll have to call him over. He’ll be angry… and he’s not pleasant when he’s angry.

Author’s Note: He robs from the rich and gives to himself.

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It begins innocently enough. He is reading to his daughter, a story about a bunny, and suddenly there it is, the bunny, looking around his daughter’s room in bewilderment. The bunny is easy enough to explain away, and now they have a pet.

But soon he is reading aloud again, this time a story about a troll living under a bridge, and when the troll appears before him, wrecks his house, and proceeds to wreak havoc on the rest of his cul de sac, an idea solidifies in his head.

He visits his local library on his way to work…

Author’s Note: Dull cubicle jobs can make even the kindest of people turn villain.

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You begin as an empty canvas:
blank, bland, boring.
I paint in vivid colors,
the red of love,
the white of terror,
browns and yellows seeping out of you
like accents
filling up the empty spaces.
I paint in vivid sounds,
the whimper of fear,
the screams of anguish,
grunts and sighs escaping
like whispered prayers
as you succumb.
I paint in vivid touch,
the bite of passion,
the burn of necessity,
each mark a reminder
like string on a finger
of how special you are.
You have transformed into a masterpiece:
grand, glittering, grim.
Only now do I feed.

Author’s Note: She’s not a monster, just an Artist.

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Look Frankie, we’ve gotta talk. I’ve been seeing stories all over the internet about some guy they call The Ripper, and I know it’s you. They say he’s been using super-strength to rip open people’s rib cages and tear out their hearts. Except the only people he’s done it to are women. Women like Diana, for instance, and Kelsey. Sarah. Lauren.

Tell me it’s a coincidence that this guy has only targeted your exes, Frankie.

I won’t rat you out, you know that. But how could you do it? I thought I knew you, man. I thought we were friends.

Author’s Note: Congratulations, narrator; you’ve now become Frank’s next target.

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Troubling news today, as the Times reports yet another burial ground desecrated by the man known as The Necromancer.

The Necromancer, legal name Boris Dresky, has previously been jailed twice for unlawful trafficking of human organs, but officers were unsure where Dresky was procuring his goods. Now the Times reports that Dresky is allegedly using dark powers to wake the recently dead, who climb out and donate their organs to him willingly before wandering off to frighten local citizens.

Officers refused to comment on what Dresky might be doing with these organs and whether he is truly waking the dead.

Author’s Note: For such an exorbitant price, those Black Market organs better be fresh.

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Breaking news: Queen Quell and Fred “Muscle” Jones announce birth of healthy baby girl, Raye Glenda Jones. Anonymous hospital employee reports that baby has presented with powers similar to mother’s; sources close to the family speculate that baby may end up being more powerful than Queen Quell herself. Will Baby Raye be the next Super?

Update (9 pm): Queen Quell has confirmed baby’s powers. “We are overwhelmed by the love and well wishes that have come our way,” Quell says. “We ask that you respect Raye’s privacy until she comes of age and we learn the extent of her powers.”

Author’s Note: Even the Queen might not be able to quell such strong powers.

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Honestly, I was just trying to impress my friends. The other boys at the neighborhood pool were seeing who could hold their breath the longest, so I joined in. At first it was nothing too unusual. A minute here, three minutes there. By high school, I was up to fifteen minutes.

A month after I won the gold in the 2012 Summer Olympics, I rescued a girl from drowning in the Pacific. Sure, I was banned from future swim competitions on the basis of an “unfair advantage,” but on the plus side, now I get to make a real difference.

Author’s Note: He always wanted to make a big splash.

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She was six months old when we adopted her from the shelter, and right away we knew she was special. We saw her potential and wanted to make sure her powers were put to good use; plus, Shepherds get bored if you don’t challenge them.

She’s a fixture at the county hospital nowadays. Performs the triaging herself, heals minor wounds, and can tell from one sniff what ails a person. Scientists at Johns Hopkins keep trying to bribe us to let them do tests on her, but she’s not a science experiment. And anyway, she’s got important work to do.

Author’s Note: Mrs. Dalloway asks that the paparazzi respect her dog’s privacy and stop photographing her without her consent at the dog park.

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No, of course his real name isn’t Midas. That’s the name the reporters came up with to make a catchy headline, and it just sort of stuck.

He’s not a bad guy, my Mikey. He always had the ability to change other metals into gold, and mostly he just used it as a party trick, to impress the other children, you know? But he went to business school, and I guess one thing led to another… money being the root of all evil, you know, and gold the worst of it.

It’s the gold committing these crimes, not my Mikey.

Author’s Note: If your kid started getting called a supervillain, you probably wouldn’t be too happy, either.

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I am solid and liquid and everything in between. I am the air and the flame, I slip in through the cracks and evaporate before anyone can see me. I am everything at once, weightless as a feather but solid as an anvil. I can be inside of you and all over you, I can whisper or I can roar. I have saved you from drowning, I have deflected a bullet for you; I can even save you from yourself, when you’ve lost your way.

But I can’t get you to notice me. You remain impenetrable to me, unmoving, unaware.

Author’s Note: Even superheroes have to deal with the heartache of unrequited love.

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