[ WP ] The story of a man gaining superpowers and realizing he must use them for good ... at the age of 50 .

The alarm clock buzzed. 
 
 Alexander reached out blindly, grasping for the infernal device that had wrenched him from his slumber. 
 
 His hand made contact with the alarm clock, and he swatted it off the nightstand and onto the floor, where the damn thing kept buzzing. 
 
 Getting out of the bed, he picked up the offending object and yanked the battery out. 
 
 He walked towards the bathroom, feeling more rested than he had in a long time. 
 
 Looking in the mirror, the bags under his eyes looked less severe, his skin a shade healthier. 
 
 Grabbing the medicine bottle on the counter, he shakily retrieved two bright blue pills. He looked at the pills, the bane of his existence. 
 
 A daily reminder of the damned disease that had claimed his wife and would soon claim him too. The cancer had gone undetected for over a year. 
 
 It had been discovered when he had collapsed on the job one day. 
 
 Stage III lung cancer, inoperable. It was a death sentence, and the day of judgement was nigh. He had one reason left to fight for, his daughter Amelia. 
 
 She could not bear to lose him too, not in the same way she had lost her mother. The thought alone kept him company through the many nights when he had considered ending it painlessly, alone and quiet. 
 
 The Police Department had given him an honorary discharge from his duty, as he was physically unable to keep up anymore. 
 
 His life had become stagnant, a cycle of never-ending pain as he watched his health slip away. 
 
 Some days he barely felt the illness, others it was like Death's icy hands gripped his heart, freezing him in place. 
 
 The chemotherapy had rendered him bald, and he suffered burns from it on his chest and back. His life was not worth living. 
 
 But he did not live for himself. He was a coward, he would n't end it. 
 he would n't leave his daughter in such a careless fashion. 
 
 The day went on in a blur of doctors visits and radiation treatment. 
 As night approached, he made his way to the local bar, hoping to ease his mind from his impending death. 
 
 The bartender, Aaron, poured him a glass of whiskey as he came through the door. 
 
 `` On the house, chief.'' The young man said, putting a faint smile on Alexander's face. 
 
 `` Thanks,'' he murmured, taking a seat on the stool towards the end of the bar. 
 
 It was a Thursday night, the place was mostly empty. 
 
 That was how it was this part of town, the bars were dead all week, and full on the weekends. 
 
 After losing his wife, Alexander had come to resent company of any kind. He was full of bitterness, and he kept it that way. 
 
 After several more shots, Alexander decided to call it a night and paid the bartender, making his way out. 
 
 `` You take care now, Aaron,'' said Alexander as he closed the door. 
 `` You too, chief, you too.'' The man said to himself. 
 
 Alexander was walking home, when suddenly his legs buckled. 
 His vision blurred. 
 
 *This is the end, * He thought, feeling cold and numb. 
 He felt ashamed that he would die out on the streets, alone and drunk. 
 Amelia would be devastated. 
 
 But there was no more that he could do. He had fought with what little will he had left. 
 
 The darkness rushed up to meet him. He only hoped that he would feel nothing, and as Death embraced him, he embraced it back, and he plunged into the darkness. 
 

