[ WP ] Retell the origin of a superhero , but reveal the hero at the end of the story .

The prisoner was semi-conscious and covered in deep gashes. His skin was grotesquely scarred with cancerous scars- And his face looked like something run through gravel for an hour. He rolled onto his back, his ears picking up the faint conversation of the guards outside- Something about a bet to see which subject survived the longest. A'dead pool', like the game with celebrities. The prisoner looked over the room- It was filthy, with no overhanging light. He ran a hand across the wounds on his belly and seethed with pain. 
 
 The door to the dark and dirty cell was thrown open- And a trio of guards filed in, dragging the prisoner out by his feet. Dragged on the floor through the cell block, the prisoner was brought to another room- A large laboratory filled with scientists. Strapped to a chair, the man was roused back to consciousness and gagged. `` Subject is nameless and possesses late-stage skin cancer that has spread to various regions of the body and brain.'' One of the scientists read off from a clipboard. 
 
 `` With the tissue sample of Weapon X, the goal of this procedure is to induce the rapid cellular regeneration ability of that subject in this one, and heal the infected wounds on the chest and stomach along with the cancer.'' The scientist looked up from the clipboard at the prisoner. `` Provided he survives, we may find applications of Weapon X's regeneration in the common foot soldier.'' He looked to the observation room and the board of the project's directors. 
 
 The patient was injected with anesthesia and the world went dark. When he re-awoke- The wounds on his chest were gone, replaced with patches of skin with new cancerous tissue. The man's eyes darted around the laboratory. Empty? His wrists were still strapped down, as were his ankles. Maybe- If he wiggled the right way- And there we go. One wrist is free, followed by the other. 
 
 The door opened, and the scientist from earlier wandered in with his attention focused on his clipboard once more. The patient feigned being unconscious still- slipping his hands back into the loose straps. The scientist approached- then was met by a hand around the throat. The patient's eyes had fire in them- The fire to survive. 
 
 `` You people butchered me, and now-'' He sighed. `` Hold on. Can I just get a moment?'' He raised hairless brows. The scientist shook his head. The patient sighed, punching the man out. `` Okay.'You people butchered me, and now I butcher you. What kind of crap is that?'' He asked no one in particular. `` I'm not saying that. I mean, this is my origin story, I'm going to say something more iconic.'' 
 
 The bastard son-of-a-bitch wannabe critic stood there mocking my heavy-handed writing for a bit before donning the scientist's shirt and labcoat. I'd write what he said, but I've already got like, zero self confidence and this is getting way too meta for me right now. Pulling an alarm by the rear entrance, the facility began to blare a klaxxon- And soon, the patient heard the march of boots. 
 
 The door opened- And a trio of guards entered the room- Missing the patient who was hiding by the right side of the door. A pen to the trachea- And a stolen gun. Two gunshots equals three dead men. Picking up another gun, the patient stormed down the hallway, shooting anyone he came across that looked at him funny. `` FREEEEEEEDOOM!'' He screamed at the top of his lungs. 
 
 LATER THAT YEAR 
 
 The patient pulled a red and black mask over his scarred face and cleared his throat. `` Okay. I like the design you gave me but honestly, why so many pouches? I have like, four belts of pouches'' He looked over the design and then over to one Rob Liefield, who shrugged. `` Look, it's popular, Deadpool.'' Deadpool sighed, pinching at what was left of his cancer-stricken nose. 
 
 `` Okay. I mean, I'm getting paid for this, right? I've already had to be involved in another piece of crappy fanfiction. I mean, we're in one right now.'' He gestured off at nothing. 
 
 Liefield looked around. `` Um. What?'' 
 
 `` Oh. Nothing. Medium awareness. It's gon na be very popular and surely wo n't derail my character from the hard-core mercenary I am right now. Surely not!'' He gave two thumbs up. 

