God's Don't Like CloudBorn Ep. #1

Darren stood in the rain, left hand pressed flatly against the telephone pole. A small sign

affixed to the pole read: 1-800-CITYBUS. This gave patrons a way to find bus times or

to lodge their complaints against the service. Lodging a complaint was a thing Darren

had done an hour ago, when his bus had not only ridden right past him but had also

splashed him with the grotesque muddied water of the puddle nearby.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that sir. Aside from a free ride to compensate you for your

inconvenience, is there anything else I can do to make things better for you?” asked the

operator as Darren barked into the phone.

“No? I mean, I’m almost an hour late for the biggest interview of my life. What you’re

offering me is a free bus ride. Well what good is that going to do when I’m going to miss

my interview? Where am I gonna go when I don’t have a job? I gotta say, I’m pretty

pissed off about this service, and I imagine they must hire top-shelf idiots to coordinate

this service, and I use that term loosely,” said Darren as anger took hold of him.

The woman on the line spoke faux-calming, corporate nonsense as Darren heard the

bus’s wheels spin down the street. Sounded as though it was coming his way. He

closed his eyes, hung up his phone, and slid it into his pocket.

Anger took hold of him. Those who knew Darren had often warned him that his anger

would get him into trouble. Smart, those people. Sure they knew trouble was on the

horizon. They just didn’t know the volume of the trouble.

He had called the bus hotline four times during his wait, but now that the true target of

his wrath was before him, he was seeing red and only red. 

The bus pulled to a stop, with a screech, right before him. Water pooled up at his feet as

the bus’s weight lurched forward with the momentum of its halt. The water soaked

through his shoes and into his socks. He was still trying to breathe through his anger,

when the old man’s voice came softly toward him.

“You better get outta the rain buddy, you’ll catch a cold,” said the bus driver with his

biggest smile. Darren didn’t want to do it but being told to get out the rain by the person

who had an hour earlier drenched him from head to toe, lit him on fire. 

“Is this the 55 to East Halo 2?” asked Darren through gritted teeth.

“Why yes, it is! On the hour every hour!” said the cheery old man, who watched as

Darren’s left hand bit into the pole at his side. A visible handprint warped the metal as

Darren pushed his arm into it. The man’s face grew concerned as he watched.

“Is everything ok?” asked the bus driver, his hand searching for the mechanism to close

the sliding door. 

“No, I’m late,” said Darren, the pole at his side now plummeting toward the center of the

bus. 

“What the hell are you doing?” said the driver as he shut the door and mashed the to

the floor.

The vehicle would have gotten away.

Would have.

Darren tore the metal from the sidewalk, the base of which sent chunks of concrete

scattering around him. Darren took a running swing at the bus. The occupants ducked

as the top end of a telephone pole hooked into the bus through an open window.

Confusion and fear spread across the faces of some, while others took flight. Screaming

could be heard from outside the bus.

The citizens who had supernatural capabilities simply shook their heads, knowing they

would be unaffected. They could shield themselves from harm. Most of the residents of

Cloud Lake City were accustomed to super-powered tantrums, but that didn’t change

how overwhelming it was to witness the violence of it all.

Darren smashed his feet into the pavement, pulling the bus to a complete stop. The

driver tried to take off again. The tires cried out as their treads were immediately

stripped by the friction of the pavement. Darren strained a little as he twisted the pole,

turning the bus on to its side. Glass exploded into a 360-degree pluming cloud, shards

raining down around the bus’s frame. Darren yanked the pole out from under the bus.

He began smashing the bus over and over. The last few passengers tried to sneak free

of the crash while Darren pummeled the bus with the telephone pole. He jumped on top

of the bus and continued his assault, banging the frame until it took on a form more like

a warped potato than a metal rectangle. The final passenger exited by kicking the rear

door off, while brushing glass bits free of himself. His face showed annoyance as he

cleaned off his tuxedo and walked briskly away from the scene. 

Darren walked to the closed door and dropped the pole he held with a single hand and

ripped off the bus’s door with his other. His face changed the moment he saw the old

man shivering in his seat. Anger drained from him like an open water bottle turned on its

head. He let go of a strained breath and tried to concentrate as warm air brushed past

his lips.

“Are you okay?”

Darren opened his eyes at the bus stop and blinked as raindrops splattered his face. He

glanced to his hand. It shook against the cold metal at his side. The pole was still there

where it belonged. When he looked up to face the bus driver, he was unsurprised to see

the vehicle still in perfect condition. 

“When I came by an hour ago you seemed pretty out of it. To be honest I’m baffled as to

why you’re still here. You’re turning blue, for god’s sake.”

Darren nodded slowly, still trying to shake off the effects of the Daydream Syndrome. It

was one of the many symptoms caused by the drug Cloud. The drug may have stripped

away the abilities given to his peers for his own safety, but what it left him with was a

feeling of emptiness he couldn’t shake, almost as if he wasn’t a complete being. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m Cloudborn. Just got stuck in the dream. Probably not gonna get the

job. I’m an hour or so late.”

Darren’s anger had vanished and dwindled; now his emotions were ballooning to a

feeling much like loss. He had waited at the stop maybe five minutes before his

disability took over, leaving him to wonder if he had really been left behind or if he had

just imagined it.

Darren looked at the bus driver. Though he felt rather defeated, Darren needed

guidance. The bus driver seemed wise enough. “What do you think? Should I even try?”

“You never know unless you try!”