I heard the bank alarm ringing just fine, but the screams seemed to echo, coming in and out of focus. I flew down to the scene of the crime, landing in a stance ready for a fight, but it was all quiet. Great. I had just heard alarms and now I couldn’t hear a pin drop. I would have thought it wasn’t just me losing hearing if I couldn’t see Pyromiss and her henchmen yelling at bank tellers and citizens alike. Something must have been wrong with my hearing – I smacked my ear, still trying to register any sounds. I flinched as screaming and sirens filled my ears, only to disappear just as quickly. My eyes caught sight of Pyromiss laughing maniacally, hands on fire. Smacking my ear once again, I caught the tail end of her laugh, caught up in static. I couldn’t just stand there smacking myself in the face, though. I had to fight, despite my… technical difficulties.
I bust open the door (I assume with a bang, but I barely heard a creak) and stepped into the bank. The polished marble floor reflected my red hair and less-red-but-still-autumn colored costume which brightly stood out against white. Pyromiss turned to me, her hair in a blaze of blue-hot flames.
“So, Cyclone, we-” suddenly it was like someone hit mute. Her mouth was still moving, but no sound came out. No sound was anywhere. And just as quickly “-ish like a dog!?” Pyromiss screamed out. I grit my teeth at the sudden sound, my face scrunching up. This just wasn’t my day. Cyclone, queen of flight, enemy of the fiery Pyromiss and hero to all, had broken hearing aids. This was just my luck. Bad enough, I had become deaf in my teenage prime and had to build special hearing aids to keep my superhero gig, and then they just broke out of the blue against my arch nemesis. It could have at least been a mugger or something, not a crime lord. Crime lady? It didn’t matter. What did matter was the awful feedback loop I seemed to have triggered by repeatedly hitting myself in the head.
Pyromiss said something else, menacingly pointing a finger at me. I saw her two henchmen leer towards me, and I wanted to roll my eyes. The last thing I needed right now was a fight. But I was the one who busted down the door in fighting stance. I put up my fists and was about to punch when I flinched back. The alarm sound had invaded my ears again, twice as loud. I must have messed with the volume, and now it was biting me in the butt. Struggling against noises that seemed to barrage my ears at escalating volumes and fists being thrown at me, I managed to get in a few punches. But the on and off hearing made it way too hard to concentrate. Superheroes needed to hear! So they could hear footsteps and explosions and gun noises and, well, bank alarms! And here I was, stuck being able to hear everything and nothing at the same time.
I was getting pummeled. Absolutely destroyed. Like a pee-wee football kid playing in the NFL with none of the guys playing against him showing any mercy. I felt myself stumbling, and I saw in the reflection on the floor a face full of freckles. This girl had nice brown eyes. And they were getting closer. And closer. And closer – oh that’s just me about to fall onto my face, being reflected back in high definition for my enjoyment. I would love to say I heard a sickening crack on impact, but I missed that part. I only felt blood gushing from my nose. My hearing aids don’t like me very much, though, and they decided to miss the interesting crack of my nose but pick up the jeers and laughter of the henchmen and Pyromiss herself, who I’m sure was about to light the place on fire and hightail it out of there.
Am I really gonna go down like this? I thought to myself. The smell of blood was strong in my nostrils, like I was sniffing all the pennies in the bank. The pennies that were being stolen. The laughters and taunts stopped and started with all the other sounds, and felt like they were getting louder and louder every time my hearing aids decided to pick them up. I felt myself twitching.
Is Cyclone really gonna go down like this?
I shoved one hand underneath me and pushed my face off the ground. Blood dripped from my nose like a leaky faucet. I could no longer see my face in marble, and didn’t desire to see if blood was as polished and reflective. I turned my face, letting the feeling of the trails of blood rushing down my cheek stay with me. Reaching to my ear, I felt the cool metal of my hearing aid. It seemed to vibrate with sound. Bank alarms. Henchmen. Laughter. Bones breaking. Sirens screaming. I wasn’t about to take this anymore. I knew how to fight, and I sure as hell didn’t need a hearing aid to kick Pyromiss’ ass. I’ve heard all of her evil monologues. I didn’t need to hear another one.
I ripped out one hearing aid. Pushing myself to my feet, I reached up and ripped out the other. Bloodstained cheeks and deadly cold eyes, I stood up and faced Pyromiss.
I hope I look like I mean business. Because I sure as hell do now.
I didn’t even try to speak. She didn’t need to hear my valiant statements. She needed to hear the sickening crack of her nose breaking. I felt my knuckles pop under my hand, pressing them down. I think one henchman gulped. Good.
I flew full speed at Pyromiss, knocking her to the ground. She tried to throw fire, but I dodged it easily. Without the distraction of sound, my eyes were quick to spot even the tiniest glimpse of movement. She was predictable. I moved around her, ducking and dodging. She couldn’t lay a hand on me anymore. I knew what she was going to do before she did it. The only thing I regret was not being able to hear her screams of frustration.
And when I kicked her down from behind, I also regretted not hearing what I’m sure was a far more delightfully sickening crack of her nose breaking. I put a foot on her back. She wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
I looked up to see police with the henchmen in handcuffs, staring at me in awe. Sorry officers, I didn’t even hear you come in! I let them take it from there, not saying a word, merely looking at an officer and jerking my head down to Pyromiss. He got the message. I strut out of the bank, hearing aids still safe in my pocket. What? I wasn’t about to waste years of work and research in one fight! But I didn’t think I would need them as often anymore.
Below is a screenshot of the workspace I used to create the story.