Beginnings: Powerless

Confession time: I normally say this was inspired by Paprika, but I actually owe a lot of it to this video. Anyways, this is one of my more popular stories, and I'm proud of how it turned out.


Sandra watches herself in the mirror as she pulls the mask from her face. Her reflection is beautiful, stunningly so, and she blows a kiss at it before she hides it again. But this is a lie.

She takes the mask away again, and her reflection shows empty blackness, no face to be found. In this manner, she's intimidated more than a few criminals. This, too, is a lie.

Once more she unmasks, as she does every night, forcing herself to confront the truth. She runs her hand across the scarred ruin . . .


BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP! The alarm radio jolted Sandra awake.

"The Crimson Five have gone missing after a confrontation with an unknown foe. As yet, it is uncertain whether they are still alive . . ."

As if by habit, Sandra reached out and felt for a mask on her bedtime table. It was only after she failed to find one that she realized she'd been dreaming. I need to stop listening to the news, she thought, punctuating her resolution by hitting "snooze" harder than was strictly necessary.

It hadn't taken long after the dreams began for her to move a mirror to the wall beside the bed. She checked it now, proving to herself that her face was the same as ever.

Pretty as a mask, she caught herself thinking, and it's all mine. Not a blemish to be found. It's no wonder I'm so scared of burns . . .

She shut herself up and lay back in bed, resting until the alarm went off again.