My knuckles tore upon as I banged the bricks for the umpteenth time. Sparks flew from the blood that is shed. I shouldn't have been there. It still makes me mad today as I look back. Why was I there? "LET ME OUT!!" I cried to the gaurds outside my thick cell walls. "I don't belong here!"

"Better safe than sorry." Came a very quiet, muffled voice from the other side. "You're a danger to us all, kid. Even if you didn't mean to kill that cop, you're still guilty of doing it."

My chest ached from the deep bruises they'd give me as I pounded harder. I have to admit, they were smart enough to use bricks instead of steel for my cell, or they'd be killed. It wasn't my fault! I couldn't control it, I swear! Another pound against the walls and I fell, breathless. I began to bleed more. I'd end up in the asylum soon. "I'm not..." I gasped, "I'm not...a villain..." I stretched out to try to grab more air. "I didn't...I didn't...mean to..." Why couldn't they understand?

"Son, quit acting up or else!" Came the same quiet, muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

I ran a hand through my thick, long dark bangs. Thoughts of suicide clouded in. That would be my only escape. Only one problem though. I couldn't electricute myself. Why? I'm immune to electricity and anything like it. Damn. I then decided to rest for awhile.

This is how I spent my days in Gothom City Prison, the part where they kept the villains. I don't know all the classifications and numbers of its name, but I know how awful it is. It's a living hell. They fed us breakfast at Noon sharp. Our only meal of the day. It normally was porrige. As soon as I touched the plastic dishes, they'd melt. See why I constantly thought of suicide? I couldn't even eat without destroying something. I'M CURSED!!!

I was there for a month already when that day came. As I lay on the ground, trying to breathe, knuckles bleeding uncontrollably, something hit me. Hard. It scratched my side, which began to pour out blood as well. The crimson liquid began to surround my body. I didn't care if I bled to death. Then, the thing hit my wrist and twisted around it. At first, I thought it was a new kind of restraining device. Then, as my body yanked away from the wall, I realized it wasn't a device at all, but a whip.

I was dragged to the feet of a slender lady in leather boots. "Do you know who I am?" She asked, bending down. "I'm your savior, Abrecan." Her golden eyes scared me. They looked too much like those that belonged to cats! "Quit staring and listen," she hissed, "we don't have much time. I got in here using the window up there. I'm going to carry you up and out. When we drop, we'll be home-free. But, there is a catch..." She paused, waiting for me to reply. I couldn't. She continued, shrugging. "You'll have to work for me, got it? You want revenge for what they did to you? I want revenge as well...for the same matter of business." She licked her lips, tying the whip around my bruised chest. "Hold tight!" She called, and then pulled me to the wall.

She isn't going to be able to pull us both up, I thought. My bad. She dug her claws into the wall and scaled it perfectly. I gasped for air again. The whip stung in my side as I felt my body get lifted off the ground. Was I really being rescued? When we reached the windowsill about a half-hour later, she laughed. "I told you, we're home-free!" She curled her hands around my waist and jumped.

Gravity pulled down on us as we fell into the water below. It hurt so hard, I blacked out...

***

"Light the Bat-signal!" the police captain called to his men. "Catwoman's just stolen Thunder-boy!" Sirens blared. A mad scramble for buttons and computers began.

"Is that really his name?" One of the technitions asked. "'Thunder-boy'? That doesn't seem accurate."

"I don't care &%$@ about it!" The captain pulled the technition up by his collar. "If you must know, his name is Abrecan, no last name! But when I say something, you don't talk back! Understand? That's retorical!" Cigarette smoke flew from his mouth.

Then the Bat-signal lit outside in the sky. The chase was on.

***

I awoke on a motorbike. I recognized the low hum of the engine. Not only that, but I was leaning on the leather suit of the woman driving. I panicked for a second, only to remember what had happened. "What do you mean, 'work for you'?" I asked as she sped across the countryside.

"You CAN talk!" She exclaimed. "I'm impressed. I thought you were mute or something."

"I just have asthma." I said, trying to breathe again. "Where are we going?"

"To my home away from home. Your home as well. You'll be known from hereonout as Strike, Electric Warrior. You'll rule at my side if you listen to me."

"Right..." I replied, finding an inhaler in her suit-pocket. I breathed it in. The sweet air filled my lungs. But, something told me I would be getting more than what I asked for...