Luke was born into greatness. He was powerful. He could do anything if he put effort into it. People call him the Greatest, for he was the hero of Chicago, born and raised in the city. He was employed by the government, given everything he could possibly want. But one day he snapped and it all changed.

Luke no longer wanted to be the perfect, happy, good hero. He wanted to be Luke, someone he chooses to be. No one to control him, or tell him what to do or how to do it. Just to be normal. So he decided to take control. No longer was he goody goody or pure, but balanced. That was what he calls himself now, the Balancer, not the Greatest.

***

Time moves on. Now Luke is no longer a top employee and has been removed from the public's interest. He still has the determination and power of a superhero, but is lost. The government has been keeping an eye on him ever since his decline. Along with his social well-being his mental health has been deteriorating. Nothing has been done to help him, so he remains unstable and stuck in the city that he once was part of.

***

People forget about their young hero, but Luke does not forget anything. He grows crazier each passing minute. He had kept everything bottled up, afraid of the choices he made. But maybe one day he will show them the potential they missed, and that day will come soon.

Luke had been planning a comeback ever since the people turned against him. They could not accept or even understand why their perfect hero could not stay pristine and flawless. He sat in his apartment alone weighing his options. Serial killer? No, too messy. Cyber stuff? No, too much effort. Villain? No, I am not villain, but a superhero. Gang? No, too social. He combed his hair with his fingers not knowing what to do. All he knew was that he had been sitting in self-pity for too long.

Luke left his apartment the next morning for the last time.

***

Three days later, Luke sat at the counter of a small diner watching the news. "Psychopath chooses another victim, the girlfriend and future wife of..." babbles the television.

"Please shut it off," commands Luke as he takes a sip of his drink.

"Why you afraid or just bothered by this-this evil? Good thing our families are safe," the bartender says softly.

"What makes you think I have a family? And could you shut it off!"

"You do not have to be rude. Do you have a problem?"

"Yes."

Luke walks out without another word. He needs a safe place to stay tonight. The wind sends a chill through his body. Walking down an alley he hears his footsteps echoing in the dark lonesome place. A man walks out of the shadows.

"I know who you are."

"Well then I guess I have to kill you." Luke draws a thin blade from his coat pocket. Quickly and efficiently he slits his opponent's throat. He moves on his way after tossing the corpse. A smile makes his face extremely attractive in a slightly crazy and unstable way. Luke moves on, silently stalking his prey, pouncing when least expected. He always knows what to expect.

He is a superhero.

Put your praise on me, I’m the hero.

Her chest was tight, surely swollen to bursting, but she held her breath. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at the lamppost, just below the light as she’d trained to do. She feared passing out if it didn’t enter soon, but sure enough she felt the atmosphere lift within the minute. A rush of air escaped her lungs and she wheezed, falling to the damp grass with green and blue dripping from her tongue. Dirt collected beneath her fingernails with the worst sensation of gore against her numbing skin. She looked up, out at the city beyond the park. Its lights were bright, its buildings gleamed.

They weaved along the skyscrapers and cars like worms, or perhaps they were smoke. Or entrails. She stood up, weakly wiping the absorption residue from the corners of her mouth. Nameless. She looked at the man shivering in his sleep, curled up on a park bench, also nameless. Forgotten, but completely unaware of his narrowly avoided fate. She sighed, suppressing more coughs.

I’m the hero.

She narrowed her eyes. The spirits were roiling inside her again, and they would be for a while. That was the price she paid. But it was worth it. Surely, it was worth it. Even if she lost the praise, the admiration and love. She would continue for as long as her body would let her, but in all truth, her body was faltering. She took shaky steps down the central park walkway, toward whoever needed her help next, unaware of the corruption latching on to them, sucking their life away where they could not see. Only she could contain them in a way that kept them down forever. Each step was hurting. She held her stomach, held her face.

Hero. Hero. Hero.

Oh gods, it was hurting. Hurting so badly, but she couldn’t stop now. She could see more of them in the alley. She needed to get them away. She needed to contain them. That was her power, her duty, her mission. She opened up her mouth, a low and raspy scream emanating from within as she dragged the spirits toward her and away from the weary, exhausted woman leaning against the wall. She pulled and pulled until the last one was gone, and then she dropped to her knees as screams bubbled inside her and blue-green oil splattered against the pavement. The woman she had saved looked down at her, confused, glassy, but slowly beginning to recognize what had happened. Her gaze softened, and she knelt down with concern. However, she recoiled at the sight of the slick, oily face, steaming and pulsing with the containment of those evildoers.

Just put your praise on me.