Micro Story, a prelude to the battle, written for class.
Today would make it four years. Four years since she had parted ways with... him, four years since she had stopped being the sidekick, and started being the hero.
Tightschic surveyed the surrounding city from her perch on top of an office building, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. This, this is what she lived for, to protect and defend the innocent. A scream in the night, a distant sound really, but heard well enough that TC could determine the direction from whence it came. A twinge of fear reached her, thrown out from a victim crying for help, lucky for them their pleas were heard. The young hero clutched her comic book tighter in her red gloved hand (an original Amazing Spiderman, issue #157), and she could feel the strength surge through her body.
She leaped from rooftop to rooftop in the direction of the cries, only hoping that she got there in time. (She could feel her muscles bulk up with power in the way that only the best comics could supplement her strength.) Finally she halted at the edge of a lower building, spotting the crime in the streets below, an old woman was held at gunpoint by a masked man. She descended onto the street below, allowing the adrenaline to surge through her body. She would not allow evil to be the victor. The criminal would not get away with his tirade, not tonight, not on her watch.
Tightschic surveyed the surrounding city from her perch on top of an office building, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. This, this is what she lived for, to protect and defend the innocent. A scream in the night, a distant sound really, but heard well enough that TC could determine the direction from whence it came. A twinge of fear reached her, thrown out from a victim crying for help, lucky for them their pleas were heard. The young hero clutched her comic book tighter in her red gloved hand (an original Amazing Spiderman, issue #157), and she could feel the strength surge through her body.
She leaped from rooftop to rooftop in the direction of the cries, only hoping that she got there in time. (She could feel her muscles bulk up with power in the way that only the best comics could supplement her strength.) Finally she halted at the edge of a lower building, spotting the crime in the streets below, an old woman was held at gunpoint by a masked man. She descended onto the street below, allowing the adrenaline to surge through her body. She would not allow evil to be the victor. The criminal would not get away with his tirade, not tonight, not on her watch.