NinjoNick
Lord of Altera
Chapter 1: Coming Home
When I finally got back home to Pittsburgh, I figured that I'd get off the plane after my release from imprisonment as a POW and see the world looking at me, asking me what happened in Pyongyang. Thankfully, I didn't see anybody apart from my Uncle Ron that wanted to speak to me.
"Stan my boy! Welcome back to America!" Uncle Ron stepped up to me, wrapping his frail arms around me in a hug. Even though he was born here in the Steel City, he never really let go of our Polish ancestry. My grandfather and his family were among the last people to leave Poland before Germany had invaded them back in World War II, so Uncle Ron and my father always told me to be thankful for our families luck.
I replied by hugging my uncle back, words cannot describe being away from your family for so long. After enlisting the Navy and going into Special Warfare as a Navy Diver, I was stationed on a prototype ship in 2017, and was sent to East Asia for a mission, to be honest, I can't really remember all that well. And I say that because it's classified. "Thanks Uncle." I couldn't really say anything else, I admit it, I was choking up a bit.
After we got back to his bar downtown, I got to go upstairs to my room as Uncle Ron was taking orders from the usual patrons. That guy Alex was back, and I admit, something seemed odd about what he was actually doing. He seemed a bit too relaxed, I knew the story about him. Alex was kicked out of his home, never said why exactly, but I know it was for the wrong reason. He was a few years younger then me. Probably about 21 at most.
I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I was nothing like I was before I became a POW. Before I was captured I was 6'4, and actually fit, you need to be in perfect physical shape to be in Specwar. I was a Navy SEAL without the glory of killing terrorists and other bad dudes.. Now I was a skeleton. I hate myself to do the comparison, but I looked like survivors of Auschwitz. There was also something about looking at myself, like pale greenish tinge to everything, it was so faint, that it was almost impossible to notice, but I noticed it anyway. I leaned down and moved my hand to the sink faucet, but when I started to turn it, I pulled it right out of the sink, causing a crash. Uncle Ron came rushing upstairs with his cane, knocking on my door, asking me in Polish about what the Hell I just did. I replied by yelling out that I had just smashed my toe against the metal pipe and something had happened.
When I looked back at my handiwork, I couldn't believe it, I had smashed a bathroom sink just by twisting my hand on the faucet. Did I actually just do that? I fixed it the best I could with some duct tape and my Uncle Ron's favorite Polka CD placed on the side of the sink. I looked at myself again and then picked up my safety razor, I snapped it in half with barely a squeeze. I took one of the blades and pressed it against my palm, the razor bend and twisted away, unable to cut my skin.
I realized that I was stronger, somehow, and that I was more durable, now I admit, I was a comic kid before joining the Navy, so I instantly thought to go to the local costume store and try and put something together. I looked down the stairs and then at the window in my room. I sneaked across my bathroom and bedroom and slid the window open as slowly and gently as I possibly could. Stepping through the frame and entering the fire escape, I began to climb up to the roof of the bar, looking over the Steel City, I felt compelled to place my hands on my waist and stood proudly as I overlooked my city.
Then I realized that I forgot my shirt and pants inside, and was standing on the roof wearing nothing but some underwear. I swiftly went back into my room and got a black sweat suit and went down to street level using the fire escape, heading to what was hopefully, not a terrible idea.