Posted by: lordkyler | June 19, 2010

Immune – Short Story

Notice: You’re going to be seeing a lot more writing for a while. I hope you don’t mind. Most of it is from a few years ago, when I was still practicing the art. (As of course I still am.)

This story was written as a one-off, in 2007, as part of a home-schooling exercise. Basically, we just had to write some fiction, and I was rather pleased with how this turned out, though perhaps the ending is a bit rushed. So without further ado, I give you…



My name is Rob Rivers, and I have a unique gift. I guess you could call it a gift. I am, in a word, invincible. Or at least, I have not seen anything that can harm me. Trains, Pit Bulls, Bullets, nothing has ever damaged me my entire life. I don’t know how I got it or where it came from, but I have had it for as long as I can remember.

When I was about six, I fell off of our roof. When I hit the ground, nothing happened to me. I didn’t tell anyone, and I don’t think anyone else knows about my secret.

I remember not realizing it was extraordinary. But eventually it sank in that I was different, not everyone else.

I knew I couldn’t reveal my secret to anyone, because I had watched enough movies to realize that my talent would not go unexploited by someone.

Lately, I have begun to develop myself, somewhat, testing myself. Secretly, when my family didn’t know, I would test my invulnerability, working up. For instance, I started with a small poke with a needle, working up to chopping my hand with a butcher knife, and eventually stabbing myself in the heart with a kitchen knife. It wouldn’t even break the flesh. I was fairly shaken up for days after that one.

Building up, I have found that I cannot be damaged from any physical damage. Yesterday I jumped off of the falls on the other side of town, with no ill effects. I do not seem to be resistant to poison however, and for that, I am glad I started small.

Eventually I came to the conclusion that I was invulnerable to external sources, but not inside. My skin must have some property to keep objects from damaging me.

At the same time, it occured to me, now what?

I studied around, focusing on different subjectst such as power, and great leaders and such. I knew I had to do something, but what? That was the problem.

I eventually came to the conclusion that, obviously, I would use my powers for good, but I couldn’t dress up like Superman or anything. I would have to be discreet about it.

So, eventually, I moved to New York City. I was attending a college nearby, and I decided to take my act to the streets. Obviously, I wasn’t worried about being in danger, but I was wondering if I could succeed in accomplishing my goal. I didn’t think I would have much problem with that, either. My body always seems to be in peak physical condition, and I have never had to work on it. I was automatically the best I could be.

Naturally, this gave me the chance to develop mentally, which was more of a challenge, but have been successful there too, which explains how I was listening to the police radios at the time.

Ha! A bank robbery, just a few blocks from where I was. Time to see what I was made of.

I walked down to the area, and put on my disguise. I obviously couldn’t let people know who I was. A ski mask was too cliché, so I used a hooded sweatshirt, and a paintball mask with tinted lenses. I wore gloves to disguise my skin color as well. I walked into the store. My getup would have caused some alarm, except for the fact that they were already being robbed.

One of the three men pointed a gun at me.

“On the floor,” he demanded. “Now.”

I casually ignored his command. I had long ago proved I was capable of withstanding a much larger bullet at point-blank range. I walked directly towards him. He let off a warning shot, right by my ear. A clerk screamed.

I kept going. He took aim and fired, with his comrades pointing their guns at me too. The slugs did nothing but leave a hole in my sweatshirt. Alarmed, he emptied the clip into my chest. Nothing.

That was not a good sign, he realized. He kicked at me. The force moved me, but there was no damage. His buddies opened fire. The bullets disappeared into my hood. Still nothing. Their guns, the symbol of power, were useless. My turn. I jumped up, and my fist lashed forward. It caught the first man in the stomach. Then I hit him in the face. I had a small innovation I had thought up.

In my gloves were sewed small prods, like brass knuckles. Attached to those was the equivalent to a homemade taser, hiding in the under my sleeves. Two of the prods made contact, and a harsh popping noise occurred when he was struck. The other two were also hit with my crude but effective blows, and I bound all their hands together with the small zip ties I had brought. I grabbed their weapons and left, just ahead of the police cars. The guns found their way to the bottom of the river, and I found myself at the beginning of a career.

The End

(for now, at least)


This story may seem a little rushed, but for what I was doing, it was a decent length. I know I’m always saying this, but I’d like to revisit this premise one day. A gritty sort of superhero, heavily grounded realistically, save for the invincibility. I have a fascination with the street clothes superhero, and taser-gloves are pretty awesome. Perhaps if this were an actual story with a plot involved, young Robert might meet seem mysterious folks, and discover he’s a little less invincible than he thought…


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