(All these characters, names, place are public domain, owned by everyone & nobody; even the name Rangers of Freedom is public domain. I have updated and changed some of their origins so those parts are mine, but overall they are free to use by one and all. The stories are rated MA just in case. This is the origins of my team, stories to follow soon)
The history of Eternal Man
“Let there be light!”
And there was. Hoai looked up at the Creator and squinted, putting a hand to shade his eyes. “Hi!”
The Creator looked down upon the naked blonde man standing in the nothingness, under the light that had just been created. “Who are you?”
“I’m Hoai” he replied cheerfully
“I did not make you” came the concerned reply.
“No, I’ve always been here, always will be. Thanks for the…light, is that what you’re calling it?”
“Very well done!” Hoai looked around “What are you going to call the absence of light?”
“Bit scary sounding, but it’s your creation” laughed Hoai “Looking forward to seeing what you do with the place. My suggestion, take a rest, start again tomorrow”
The Creator scratched its head in confusion as Hoai wandered off across the nothingness, looking up at the light, admiring the work.
Origin of Tiger Man
Robert Benton was once a spoilt, self indulgent, rich expletive. He did whatever, whenever he pleased due to his vast wealth and devil may care attitude. For fun he travelled the globe killing rare and endangered species, because he could. He’d bludgeoned a panda to death in China, shot an anaconda in Brazil with an AK-47, thrown grenades at a white rhino and strangled a kangaroo in Australia. He travelled to Burma to hunt a rogue Bengal tiger. But this time Robert was out of luck and the tiger savagely mauled him. He was saved by a tribal mystic who performed a strange ritual using the tiger’s blood to save Robert’s life.
After three months recuperating in the squalor of Burma, Robert finally returned State side, a new lease on life. He decided to change his ways. He found that the ritual had imbued him with the might; the strength and the focus of the tiger.
Robert Benton now patrols the night as Tiger Man, the city is his jungle.
Roland Green worked as a butcher. He did this for twenty two years, six days a week until he’d saved enough to start his own shop and finally work for himself. He was in business for one whole week before the Russian Mob came a knocking, looking for protection. He turned them down. In response they jammed his right hand into the slicer and made slices.
Roland lost his business, his arm and his money. He swore revenge, but the vengeance of a one-armed man was limited. But one night a strange man claiming to be a Magician from Mars, gave him a sophisticated looking prosthetic arm saying that vengeance could be his. Roland thought he was delirious on morphine and took the arm and it attached, it even hummed with power.
The next day, he and the arm had bonded. Roland snuck out of hospital, leaving a note of thanks. He donned a makeshift costume and ventured down to the hangout of the Russian Mob and tried out his new arm. Roland could punch through a brick wall, fire concussive blasts, it was amazing. He adopted the name Steel Fist from a newspaper quote about his masked exploits. He patrols his neighbourhood, doing his civic duty when not butchering.
Ten year old Bob Hornsby could do very little but watch in horror as Dr Diabole shot his brother Steve aka Black Cobra through the head. The demented super villain laughed as brain and blood splattered on his face.
“I think I shall retire now” he laughed pushing the lifeless body to the floor “Au revoir!”
That was nine years ago. Bob spent every waking moment of the last nine years hunting, and searching for Dr Diabole whilst training his mind and body to step into his brother’s shoes. He followed every lead to attempt to track down his brother’s killer, most were dead ends, red herrings or just plain wrong. Along the way he developed a reputation as a no-nonsense vigilante. Bob didn't care, he just wanted to find his brother's killer and heaven help those idiots who got in his way.
Peggy Shane worked in her parent’s antique store. It wasn’t her dream job but it was easy and she was good at it, even though the most exciting things that came through Preston North Carolina were Civil War relics. One day an old man came in looking to sell a box of trinkets. Peggy, feeling sorry for the old man, took the box after a casual glance and gave the man fifty dollars.
Peggy sorted through the junk and came across a rough hewn golden heart. Peggy pulled out her loupe and examined it, it was worth thousands. She was ecstatic. She turned it over to see a dusty phrase carved on the reverse. Peggy cleaned it up and read out loud “Heart of Gold”. The room exploded in golden light and a man in Aztec dressed shimmered before her.
“I am Tlaloc!” he stated “You are pure of heart. You will protect the people. The power from the blood of a thousand Aztecs inhabits you! You are Golden Girl!”
Peggy stared in disbelief as the man faded from view. As she tried to pull herself up, she tore a chunk out of the oak bench with her hand, fell backwards onto the floor and left an indent of her shape on the floor. “Wow!”
After trial and error with her prodigious strength, Golden Girl put her powers to good use and became a crime fighter, when her parents let her out of the shop.
Will they hate me? I have been lying to them for years.
I am only four years old, but to look at I am a thirty-three year old man. I have tremendous powers; the ability to grow to over 15 stories tall, strength, durability…
I shouldn’t even have these thoughts, I am merely a machine. I don’t have emotions; I have core directives, logic and reason.
Why am I concerned if they will hate me? Why am I lying?
Here comes the police chief with a medal, do they pin medal on squad cars? Can I tell them? Should I tell them?
Is there something wrong with my programming? Is there something wrong with me?
The five super villains eyed each other cautiously.
“So who called this meeting?” hissed the Faceless Phantom, his voice part gurgle, part whisper
“Well it wasn’t me!” sneered The Garroter “I don’t do groups!”
“This feels like a trap!” stated The Torcher firing up his weapon "I don't like it!"
“This is stupid!” huffed Vapo-Man “I got better things to do”
The quintet looked around for the source of the voice, when a curtain parted on the wall and a shadowy figure appeared on the tv screen.
“Why bother with the nickel and dime stuff Vapo-Man?”
“Who are you?” demanded Gravestone
“All in good time Gravestone,” said the figure “But first I’m glad you all accepted my invitation to come along here tonight. I promise you gentlemen, it will be worth your while”
To be continued.....