DC Genesis, Captain Marvel: Pigeons, Part Three
“Take a seat, Will.” He doesn’t look up from his work.
I walk the length of the floor and sit down across from Ebenezer.
“You wanted to see me?”
He puts down his pen and looks me in the eye. I feel intimidated but I don’t break eye contact, he wouldn’t like it if I did.
“We need to talk about your current living situation.” I feel a brief flight of hope before he speaks again.
“I think you should move in with me.”
I feel slightly stunned. I sit there in silence.
“I know, you’ve been clamouring for an opportunity to leave Fawcett city but, frankly, it would be irresponsible of me to allow you to do that. In fact, even living this close to me doesn’t permit adequate watchfulness on my part. Your sleepwalking is becoming more frequent, it happens on an almost daily—“
“—it’s not sleepwalking.”
“What is it then?” He stands up from his desk and arches himself in my direction
“I am trying to be a good guardian but it is infinitely more difficult when you insist on making it so. Do you realize what a challenge it is to watch you and this company?”
“Then don’t.” I look up at him and try to re establish eye contact.
“I’m an adult, I can look after myself. Let me leave.”
For a moment, his face contorts into what looks like fury. Something happens to his eyes, they go pitch black for a split second. I must be imagining things. I must be crazy.
“You most certainly cannot look after yourself. How can a person who walks for miles and not remember a second of it look after them self?”
His face changes again, to a look of fear. He opens his mouth and it seems like he’s about to say something but stops. He regains his composure and begins speaking again.
“Will, try to look at it from my perspective. My house is very large. It’s possible to live there without even seeing me. It’s important I keep track of your... episodes, especially in a world such as this.”
He removes a device from his jacket pocket and aims it at the monitor behind him. The screen immediately comes to life with what appears to be hellish imagery. Closer examination reveals it to be a series of burning buildings. On the bottom of the screen I see a tagline: “Breaking News: Super powered arsonist sets fire to a large section of Fawcett City’s financial district.” A glowing orange figure flies about, left to right; right to left. Flames cascade from him and lay infernal waste to the earth below. I feel my uncle’s grip tighten.
“We live in a world where mortal men don’t belong. Humans are subject to the whim of beings with more power than could ever be imagined. It is a dangerous world and I can’t have you wander through it blind.”
His voice is strange: quieter, deeper. His grip is a modicum away from causing pain when it suddenly loosens and his hand falls. I don’t look up at him but I hear what sounds like a whimper.
I feel it then: a small crack in my psyche, viable to give way at any time. I’m going to lose myself any minute. I get to my feet and push Ebenezer aside. Something is driving me to leave; no one can see this happen. I run for the office door. My uncle shouts after me. I hear his footsteps. He’s chasing me. So what? I don’t care if he sees this, he’ll understand. No. He can’t see this. No one can see this, especially not him. I push the doors open and sprint into the hallway. There is a custodian there, I run past him and turn the corner. I hear a yelp and a thud. My uncle must have collided with the cleaner. Good, that’ll give me more time. Time for what? I should just go back and tell him what’s going on. No. Move forward. He cannot be around for this, I am not prepared. I try a few of the doors around me, locked. They all must be. The building closed hours ago, no time to check others. There is a window at the end of the hallway. I start running. Something is filling me up, pushing me out. I’m losing control of myself. I feel something else inside of me. I see my reflection in the window; I think my eyes are glowing. I pick up speed. What am I doing? Through the looking glass. This is thirty eight stories up. My reflection stares back at me. My eyes are definitely glowing. Through the looking glass. You’ll be fine.
I feel shards of glass slash my skin and the night breeze pass through my hair. There is something inside me that wants to get out. I feel it pushing underneath my skin. There is water right below me, the lake; its mist dampens my clothes. Let me enjoy this, just for a few seconds. I hear wings; two pigeons are flying right next to me. Are they looking at me? I can’t see. All I see is white. It’s coming, I open my mouth and a thunderclap comes out.
“SHAZAM.”
Is that what I yell? That wasn’t my voice. What does that mean? I won’t remember anyway. All I see is white. I’m leaving.
I am free. Free as the air in which I linger. I fly upwards, towards the stars and attempt to remember why I was summoned. Something about fire. Fire and gold. I fly towards the landing of the city which heads the coin trade. My speed shakes the skies around me. I cut through the wind like a sword, muscles which know no fatigue ripple and flex in anticipation under iron skin. I see structures ablaze; tongues of flame lick the sky. I hear the screams of innocents, those lowly mortals that do not have the means to defend themselves. I volunteer to be their champion and I will be a good and valiant one. They have deemed me Captain Marvel.
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