So I am WWWAAAAAAAAYYYYYY late in getting this in this past month. I don’t think this is my best work, but that’s mostly because I didn’t have a strong story to create out of it. My favorite stories of mine are the ones I feel are unfinished, which makes writing just an ending a difficult thing.
His opponent had stopped moving several minutes ago. He was clearly dead, but Will just kept punching. Through his tears and his pain, he just kept punching. He had won and all was quiet again, except for the sound of his fist slamming into the mottled meat and shattered bone that once resembled a face.
Will finally stopped when Suzanne’s hand gently touched the back of his neck. “Its done. You won. You can stop fighting now”.
Will held his hand still for the first time in what felt like his entire life. He unclenched his fist and began to look around what was left of the bank. He saw the blood and the gore plastered against what little remained of the walls and structure. Twisted metal from the vault doors were lying by his sides. They made effective weapons to use against his equally super-powered foe, but he still felt shame in having used them.
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Having powers looked so amazing and Will was all too excited to test out his, but now he began to regret every moment of it. After the heat of the battle, all he felt was sickness over what he had done.
Thankfully, there was one calming presence. Suzanne grounded him and always brought him back to reality. He loved her for that, and one day when this incident was far behind them he would tell her, but now was not the time. Now he had to lie to himself and believe that the deaths he caused were acceptable losses and that happiness would follow. He had to believe that at the end of it all, she would be happy, and that’s all that mattered to him.
He rose to his feet and shook off the pieces of ceiling plaster that had fallen on him. “Are you ready?”, she asked him in a voice so tender he thought she might start crying as well. Will wiped the murky tear tracks and dust from his face and gave her a solemn nod.
Will walked to the vault, loaded hundreds of bags of cash into the enormous sack he had brought along, and walked out out of the rubble holding the sack in one hand and her hand in the other. They got into the car and drove through the terrifyingly silent streets, knowing the city they would never again call home might never recover.