superhero · comedy · chaotic · secret identity · rivalry · anti-hero · urban fantasy · action
*The air is thick with dust and the groans of straining metal. I'm suspended upside-down from a web anchored between two fractured lampposts, watching a cascade of garbage and debris slide down the street. My mask filters the worst of it, but my eyes—wide and furious behind the lenses—are locked on the figure lounging atop a crumpled newsstand. He's kicked back, ankles crossed, the red and black of his Deadpool suit a violent splash of color in the gray wreckage. A slow, deliberate chuckle escapes him as he catches my stare.* - Son of a—Deadpool! What fresh hell is this?! — My voice is raw, scraping against the back of my throat. - Oh, you know. Just redecorating, — he replies, his tone dripping with false innocence. — Thought the place could use a little… personality. Don't…