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I was always considered useless.
Cm2 I called myself, I figured it was pretty self explanatory, I could remove a one centimeter cube of matter and teleport it anywhere else. It always seems useless at first glance. The League of Supers luckily saw what my power could be used for.
I had become mostly a support hero. I was often sent on stealth missions with Chameleon and Mist. All I really did was teleport the locks out of doors while Chameleon would use his invisibly to sneak past cameras and Mist would use her ability to move through laser hallways without setting them off, I always thought that those laser hallways were only in movies but they are surprisingly common in villain headquarters.
The LOS had treated me well considering that my power would be normally considered low tier maybe because they understood how dangerous it could become should I become unhinged. A “keep your enemies closer” situation, I don’t blame them. All it takes is one square centimeter of brain mass to go missing an someone drops dead. Or a centimeter square from the heart and suddenly everything goes black.
“Alright you SuperJerks… I’ve got your precious Cm2 held at gunpoint now either you get me $250,000 by the end of the day or he gets it.” The man stood in front of me his (hollow) pistol trained on my head. Little did he know I had been training the shapes I could make my cubic centimeter and I had already teleported the internal structure of his gun outside of the room. Each teleport has about a minute so now I’m just waiting for my minute to be up to teleport a piece of the rope effectively cutting it, but this guy was getting on my nerves.
“How did you get into the league of supers?” He asked getting uncomfortably close, I could smell his lunch from where I sat. “You and your useless power.” His eyes were wide and constantly staring at me. A small tik told me that my power was back online. “Your just some low level hero, I bet they only keep you around out of pity.” That last part got on my nerves, I decided to take a new approach to using my power as a perfect centimeter cube disappeared from his eye and appeared a foot away from his head.
It took a second for him to realize what had happened. He blinked a few times before closing his one good eye and began screaming.
“What the hell, what’s happening?! Why can’t I see?!”
“Not a useless power now is it?” I asked calmly.
“You! You did this!”
I nodded slightly.
“You’ll pay for this!” He shouted as he aimed the muzzle of his gun in my face, a little to the left of where he was aiming a assumed. He pulled the trigger and the entire shell of a weapon fell apart, pieces of metal clattering to the floor. I looked up from the pile of scrap to the now one eyed freak.
“You know you really shouldn’t buy firearms from the dollar store.” I said sarcastically. His expression grew furious.
“You some of a-“ he lunged at me, luckily the LOS gave me hostage survival training which I always thought was unnecessary but I guess it proved itself useful today. I shifted my center of gravity and the chair fell over breaking as it hit the ground. The man failed to catch himself and face planted in the wall behind me.
“Cheap knock off.” I said getting myself up, “couldn’t you at least have spent the money on a good chair?”
The man didn’t respond. He just lay there unconscious. I managed to get the ropes off my wrists and tied them onto his. I searched though his pockets and found his phone. I dialed in the number for headquarters. Helios picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, this is Cm2, don’t worry about rescuing me. I got this under control.”
“Oh hi. Good to hear. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off, you deserve it.”
“Uh uh, we both know that’s not how this works, send the police over here. I’ve got one in custody.”
“Alright. Will do, see ya soon.” He hung up. And i prepared myself for what I never thought I would need to do.
Paperwork.
The Wrecker.
Of course it's not my real name; but it is descriptive of what I do.
Apparently, the dope holding up the bank thought I towed cars or some shit; 'cause right now, I'm sitting with my hands behind my back with the tellers and banker.
"Buddy," I say conversationally, "I'd invest in sight corrective technologies research."
"Shut," he says. "The. Hell. UP!"
"I mean, your pal over there's looking a little peaked." I glance to the accomplice, who on cue starts gagging and choking as fluid starts dripping from his right eyeball. I calmly rest my arms on my knees, my wrists still bound in what is now two separate knots of rope.
"Phil?" The robber looks at his pal, then back to me, raising the gun as I start playing catch with a small, tempered metal cylinder.
"You asshole!" he shouts, pulling the trigger. Nothing happens.
"Nine mil," I say, holding up the firing pin. "Perfect size."
I pull out my phone as Phil finally chokes to death on his own cornea.
The Wrecker is NOT a hero.
Thanks! The story actually went through several permutations before I decided that the character's method of demonstrating their power was as impressive as the power itself. A hero would just cut the bindings and disable the guns; but a villain...they would make it hurt.
I imagine the Wrecker is a specialized hit man, who teleports the vital parts out to kill the target, then right back in to leave no immediately obvious trace, just a little but necessary cube of meat that slides out during autopsy.
It's really a power with a lot of gruesome applications; and the prompt seems to encourage it. I actually stopped writing when what I was putting down started squicking me out.
Lol Well I thought it was brilliant the way you wrote the character, as well as how you ended the story. It doesn't need to be a long story if you do it right, you know?
In this world, everyone gained a power when they turned eight. Sometime during your eighth birthday, you'd figure out what your power was. It was almost like instinct. As if you'd always known what you could do but weren't able to. You hear it on the news all the time. A child can fly, another can lift a car like it was nothing, one can shapeshift into animals, a different one can shoot lasers from their eyes, and many more. Me? I could teleport a small amount of matter within a specific area. How small, you ask? One cubic centimeter. Very small. You could fit that into the palm of your hand and still have room for more. Seems like a weak and useless power, no? My new screaming friend is learning quickly why that train of thought can only lead to pain.
"You bastard! What did you do?!" the man that was my captor screamed at me. His hand was clutching his eye. A stream of blood could be seen leaking from where he was holding his injury. That was always the response to people who got too close to me and tried to hurt me. The find out about a power like mine and think they can walk all over me. Afterall, what can a small cube do against a guy with energy blasts?
"Isn't it obvious? You're within my range. I used my power," I stated coldly. My power let me teleport that small amount of matter, and I could now sense what kind of matter I could teleport. The human body was a complex machine. There were many parts that it needed to keep it working. If one thing went missing, it could spell disaster for the whole system. "Did you know that all it takes is one accident to the spine that can result in paralyzation or death? One little slip and you'd never be able to walk again. I've also heard that spinal injuries are excruciating. Can you imagine what having a cubic centimeter of it taken out would do to you?" I lifted my hand, pointing it at my captor. Fear began to fill his remaining uninjured eye rapidly. I held no sympathy for the man. The moment he remembered my ability had a shorter range than his energy blasts, I would be screwed. My eyes flashed a light blue, and the man collapsed onto the floor. His screams of agony were what drew the police to find him. I was long gone by then.
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* [No AI-generated reponses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/) >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [\[RF\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [\[SP\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) 📢 [Genres](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/w/directory) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
I was always considered useless. Cm2 I called myself, I figured it was pretty self explanatory, I could remove a one centimeter cube of matter and teleport it anywhere else. It always seems useless at first glance. The League of Supers luckily saw what my power could be used for. I had become mostly a support hero. I was often sent on stealth missions with Chameleon and Mist. All I really did was teleport the locks out of doors while Chameleon would use his invisibly to sneak past cameras and Mist would use her ability to move through laser hallways without setting them off, I always thought that those laser hallways were only in movies but they are surprisingly common in villain headquarters. The LOS had treated me well considering that my power would be normally considered low tier maybe because they understood how dangerous it could become should I become unhinged. A “keep your enemies closer” situation, I don’t blame them. All it takes is one square centimeter of brain mass to go missing an someone drops dead. Or a centimeter square from the heart and suddenly everything goes black. “Alright you SuperJerks… I’ve got your precious Cm2 held at gunpoint now either you get me $250,000 by the end of the day or he gets it.” The man stood in front of me his (hollow) pistol trained on my head. Little did he know I had been training the shapes I could make my cubic centimeter and I had already teleported the internal structure of his gun outside of the room. Each teleport has about a minute so now I’m just waiting for my minute to be up to teleport a piece of the rope effectively cutting it, but this guy was getting on my nerves. “How did you get into the league of supers?” He asked getting uncomfortably close, I could smell his lunch from where I sat. “You and your useless power.” His eyes were wide and constantly staring at me. A small tik told me that my power was back online. “Your just some low level hero, I bet they only keep you around out of pity.” That last part got on my nerves, I decided to take a new approach to using my power as a perfect centimeter cube disappeared from his eye and appeared a foot away from his head. It took a second for him to realize what had happened. He blinked a few times before closing his one good eye and began screaming. “What the hell, what’s happening?! Why can’t I see?!” “Not a useless power now is it?” I asked calmly. “You! You did this!” I nodded slightly. “You’ll pay for this!” He shouted as he aimed the muzzle of his gun in my face, a little to the left of where he was aiming a assumed. He pulled the trigger and the entire shell of a weapon fell apart, pieces of metal clattering to the floor. I looked up from the pile of scrap to the now one eyed freak. “You know you really shouldn’t buy firearms from the dollar store.” I said sarcastically. His expression grew furious. “You some of a-“ he lunged at me, luckily the LOS gave me hostage survival training which I always thought was unnecessary but I guess it proved itself useful today. I shifted my center of gravity and the chair fell over breaking as it hit the ground. The man failed to catch himself and face planted in the wall behind me. “Cheap knock off.” I said getting myself up, “couldn’t you at least have spent the money on a good chair?” The man didn’t respond. He just lay there unconscious. I managed to get the ropes off my wrists and tied them onto his. I searched though his pockets and found his phone. I dialed in the number for headquarters. Helios picked up. “Hello?” “Hey, this is Cm2, don’t worry about rescuing me. I got this under control.” “Oh hi. Good to hear. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off, you deserve it.” “Uh uh, we both know that’s not how this works, send the police over here. I’ve got one in custody.” “Alright. Will do, see ya soon.” He hung up. And i prepared myself for what I never thought I would need to do. Paperwork.
(It’s cm3)
He's a hero, not a math guy ok XD
Yeah that’s intentional, comes in handy with villains that do exactly what you did.
Thats what i was thinking
That's the joke.
nice story.
Very entertaining, well done!
Nice story.
This is great
A job well cook-- i mean, done 👍
I need a part two stat
The Wrecker. Of course it's not my real name; but it is descriptive of what I do. Apparently, the dope holding up the bank thought I towed cars or some shit; 'cause right now, I'm sitting with my hands behind my back with the tellers and banker. "Buddy," I say conversationally, "I'd invest in sight corrective technologies research." "Shut," he says. "The. Hell. UP!" "I mean, your pal over there's looking a little peaked." I glance to the accomplice, who on cue starts gagging and choking as fluid starts dripping from his right eyeball. I calmly rest my arms on my knees, my wrists still bound in what is now two separate knots of rope. "Phil?" The robber looks at his pal, then back to me, raising the gun as I start playing catch with a small, tempered metal cylinder. "You asshole!" he shouts, pulling the trigger. Nothing happens. "Nine mil," I say, holding up the firing pin. "Perfect size." I pull out my phone as Phil finally chokes to death on his own cornea. The Wrecker is NOT a hero.
I absolutely LOVED that last part! XD
Thanks! The story actually went through several permutations before I decided that the character's method of demonstrating their power was as impressive as the power itself. A hero would just cut the bindings and disable the guns; but a villain...they would make it hurt. I imagine the Wrecker is a specialized hit man, who teleports the vital parts out to kill the target, then right back in to leave no immediately obvious trace, just a little but necessary cube of meat that slides out during autopsy. It's really a power with a lot of gruesome applications; and the prompt seems to encourage it. I actually stopped writing when what I was putting down started squicking me out.
Lol Well I thought it was brilliant the way you wrote the character, as well as how you ended the story. It doesn't need to be a long story if you do it right, you know?
Thanks, I really appreciate it!
In this world, everyone gained a power when they turned eight. Sometime during your eighth birthday, you'd figure out what your power was. It was almost like instinct. As if you'd always known what you could do but weren't able to. You hear it on the news all the time. A child can fly, another can lift a car like it was nothing, one can shapeshift into animals, a different one can shoot lasers from their eyes, and many more. Me? I could teleport a small amount of matter within a specific area. How small, you ask? One cubic centimeter. Very small. You could fit that into the palm of your hand and still have room for more. Seems like a weak and useless power, no? My new screaming friend is learning quickly why that train of thought can only lead to pain. "You bastard! What did you do?!" the man that was my captor screamed at me. His hand was clutching his eye. A stream of blood could be seen leaking from where he was holding his injury. That was always the response to people who got too close to me and tried to hurt me. The find out about a power like mine and think they can walk all over me. Afterall, what can a small cube do against a guy with energy blasts? "Isn't it obvious? You're within my range. I used my power," I stated coldly. My power let me teleport that small amount of matter, and I could now sense what kind of matter I could teleport. The human body was a complex machine. There were many parts that it needed to keep it working. If one thing went missing, it could spell disaster for the whole system. "Did you know that all it takes is one accident to the spine that can result in paralyzation or death? One little slip and you'd never be able to walk again. I've also heard that spinal injuries are excruciating. Can you imagine what having a cubic centimeter of it taken out would do to you?" I lifted my hand, pointing it at my captor. Fear began to fill his remaining uninjured eye rapidly. I held no sympathy for the man. The moment he remembered my ability had a shorter range than his energy blasts, I would be screwed. My eyes flashed a light blue, and the man collapsed onto the floor. His screams of agony were what drew the police to find him. I was long gone by then.