Stan himself

A cold sweat trickled down Stan’s spine as he woke up. Thunder can be heard outside of his complex. Trickles of rain hit the window as a cool air reaches to him. Quickly he sits up in his dark room to be somewhat dismissive of the dream he just had. But it didn’t seem to help as thoughts raced through his head of young women all of which were in his control. He felt like such a fool. How easily he had let himself bite Maria. Stan stood up and opened the door of his room leading to the living room. A cold cup of coffee now standing there as proof of his earlier mistake. A spike of sickness seems to haunt him as he stares at it. As if to think that by just looking at it, he can take his actions away. While he knows that he can’t. How could he ever pretend to be a hero, if this is what he is capable of doing. To brush of his own morals for the hint of owning someone.

No, Stan wasn’t a hero right now. He wasn’t a symbol of hope. In most cases he wasn’t even able to show his full strength or his capability, since people could recognize him. Making it quite dangerous to fully show what he was worth. If people would know he was some kind of metahuman or worse, not even human. He didn’t know what they would do. Human history wasn’t really filled out with examples of treating strangers in a nice way. When he was young he had thought they would laugh at him and consider him crazy. Now he thought they’d like to do experiments on him. Seeing if there is some gene inside of him they could recreate to prolong human life. Perhaps that was the best option, Stan would think to himself grimly. Knowing that in some bizarre way that could also be seen as quite heroic. Though he did prefer to live, since that would benefit his health.

The result of which was that in Stan’s head, he would think he was wasting everyone’s time with his good deeds. They were all small gestures that didn’t come from his ability. They were meant from a good heart and came from the right place, but in the end it didn’t have a severe influence on everyone. Something that he did see himself capable of doing. He didn’t feel like his actions had the great influence he expected there to be. It just felt like he had been passed every single means to score a goal. And still, he had missed every single shot he had made. No, it felt even worse. Since this evil megalomaniac had influenced him in one of his decions. He just had to succeed and not become this villain. Someone who wasn’t even alive to see him struggle with the option he had had. Because it would be another story if Stan had been tempted to bite into Maria by this evil twisted guy in the buss. Which never happened. The evil bastard was already dying when Stan had bitten him. And even he wasn’t sure why he had done so.

But to say that it was entirely the fault of the evil man and not Stan’s, wouldn’t fix anything. It would just relocate the problem. And yes, Stan had used his ability to help someone with a curious addiction. Instead of fueling it with the direct intent of turning Maria into an addicted ****. But that would leave out the most important thing. Stan had mostly been thinking of himself in the whole process. The thought had crossed him that perhaps Maria would return. That he could practice some of these memories on her. Just to see how it would work. Just some curious experiments to know if he was capable of them as well. To ensnare someone to his will.

This is why his stepdad probably hated him. Even though everyone told Stan that he didn’t mean it like that. His stepdads actions however spoke more than his words. Which is on itself ironic, because he never said much to Stan. The reason that seemingly made his father figure detest him now also seemed to have crept into a complete stranger. Since Maria had also just ran away from him. In spite of him trying to seem like he was doing it for her, she had caught on to his lie. It probably had been plastered all over Stan’s face. He sighed, if only people couldn’t recognize him he thought. If that would be the case he would’ve been so much more better of. And as all of these thoughts are crushing him in his mind, Stan feels empty. He can’t find a solution to it. There is no ability that can save him. So he sits himself down, gets a remote and turns on the TV. Perhaps that can get his thoughts out of his unrest.

“A male hunt seems to have opened up as dozens of females all over the city are looking for one specific man…”

ZAP

Stan quickly pressed his tv to go to the next programn, since he more or less knew who that man might be. While images in his mind opened up with names and faces of women he tried to forget.

“We as a people believe in our government. And that means that every vote should count. So let’s ask the American people about this decision senator. Perhaps then you will see what bad of a choice this will be for our city”

Stan looked at his mom for a second. Seeing the lines of stress on her face fueled by determination. While Stan’s eyes went down a bit to look at the blouse his mom was wearing. Almost immediately thinking about the times he had seen her naked breasts as she would get out of the shower. Which happened more often than it to be plausible for it to be an accident. Though Stan didn’t pick up on that. Neither had he picked up the want in his mother’s voice as she had asked him to stay in the family home.

Now that he saw his mom on tv, he remembered to reach out to her. Mostly because he had a lot of questions now about what he was. And perhaps his mother could answer them. Secondly because he really liked to see her again. Since now that he really thinks about it, it has been quite long since she had seen her. Both her and Lauren. Stan’s worries were a bit pushed to the background as he thought of the two. While he zapped to the next program.

ZAP

“And here you see the wunderpus or mimic octopus in action. With just one movement of sticking his tentacles out of the sand, it looks like a venomous sea snake”

Quite interesting for a living creature to disguise itself. But to Stan it wasn’t really interesting…or wait. It was.

Stan knew the solution to his problem almost immediately as he thought of the word over and over again. He needed a disguise. A way to be a hero. Something to show hope to people by wearing it. While also hiding his identity from the public.

And so, now Stan has a suit and some blessed anonymity.