“We have good news and some bad news Mr. um, Dreary. Which would you like first?” the overly charismatic doctor announced as he entered the room, hand out like an overly orange panhandler. I could practically feel the spray tan flow into my hand.

Piss poor bedside manner in my opinion. Who walks in with a handshake and smile? No greeting whatsoever at first sight, this smug bastard just comes in and drops a bomb. Who does he think he is, the president? I have come to fuck your entire world over now gaze into my blue like the ocean eyes and shake my hand like a goddamned man.

“I guess the bad news first.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I have been going through a very rough patch lately. If it was possible for things to go wrong, they have in a way that would make Mother Teresa take off her habit and inject heroin directly into her eye while having group sex with angry one-eyed little people. I recently lost my job in delivery services. A package was signed for but they claimed never received. My boss didn’t want another mark on his reputation so I was let go. It was all I was qualified for. Well that or going back to hawking seal meat on street corners or selling psyche meth like a disgraced Knight of Silence.

And I fell into one of those spirals you see on the holovids. Lost my apartment, which was barely a step above squatting. Started to actually squat in a warehouse that turned out to be home to a particularly nasty group of weresquirrels who did not like strangers. Too much too soon. There will be time for all of this later.

I have had things done to me that no one should have to endure. Some I paid for, others were just life sawing at the tender bits with a salt based antiseptic. I figure I am in a bad way. A couple guys in an alley recommended this doctor they used, supposedly a real good guy who didn’t charge much at all for the downtrodden. Hard to find a decent chop shop where they weren’t trying to harvest your organs.

“Well the test results showed some very concerning things. It appears you have been in contact with some sort of gene decimator within the last week or so, possibly that you had sex with it in fact. Parts of your DNA have been overwritten and other key elements of health and stability are either outright gone or crumbling. There are two, no three, virulent types of herpes at war in your mouth, eyes and penis and your lymphatic system is on the verge of shutdown. I see, what appears to be anal tearing. I pity the poor son of a bitch that raped you, he is in for a very rude awakening within the next twenty four hours. I could go on but I think you see that the prognosis is very grim,” then he flashed a winning smile. It was all white and straight and perfect. Crystal blue eyes, perfect teeth and orange skin to go with his full head of hair. Instant hatred boiled in my veins, hopefully enough to mess with the herpes raging Armageddon on each other.

“You said there was good news?”

“I did? Oh yes I did. That is just a saying. Honestly the only good thing I can tell you is this suffering, which should be incredibly horrific and will only grow much worse, is nearly over for you. To ease your final moments I have prepared a couple prescriptions for you. And I want you to consider another, more experimental idea.”

“A suicide pill?”

“May as well be. Look I would never give anyone these pills unless it was truly a last resort. The man that made them may or may not have been a Nazi scientist. He may or may not have killed thousands with his insane experiments. He may or may not be my father in law. He says they cure all disease and can give a person superhuman abilities with a catch. He also said less than one percent survive. You can take these even with the obvious terrifying side effects but you are looking at maybe two months of intense pain before expiring. The worse these can do is kill you immediately. Think about it. Not for too long, but think about it.” He flashed another winning smile and, I kid you not flinched as he looked at my paperwork again.

So I was about to die. I felt empty. Not full of despair like a normal person would, just done. The idea of the Nazi death pills seemed like a cop out. If half of what he just rattled out was true they wouldn’t save much time. But he was right about the agony. My hands were shaking and my head was pounding like a meth addict trying to pull off an epic drum solo was behind my left eye.

“I have seen men assaulted by radioactive bear men in the former tundra of Northern Canada that had less scars than you. Frankly, the fact that you haven’t already committed suicide is the real story here. Once, when I first started my underground practice, a hermaphrodite had attempted to have sex with a piranha bird. Don’t know where he got the bird but it was a vicious little bastard. All teeth and feathers, with these strange metallic growths on each wing. I assume they were for swimming. Anyway, it was more of a mercy killing than surgery. On a scale of one to you, that was a three and a quarter.”

He just stood for a second, then reached into his white lab coat and pulled out a bottle of pulls and held them out for me.

Worst fucking doctor ever. I see he must have gotten his bedside manner from his Nazi father in law. Tall, beautiful, Aryan piece of shit. I grabbed the pills he had in his hand and hoped that when I died I managed to projectile shit on him and the entire room. I dry swallowed four of them and laid back and positioned myself for most anal coverage. I sat with my sphincter canon aimed at him for nearly fifteen minutes. Instead of sweet release I actually managed to feel slightly better. He raised his eyebrows and made some notations on my paperwork. I dry swallowed another handful of pills.

Suddenly pain wracked my entire nervous system in rolling waves of brutality. I felt like one of the poor bastards in a werewolf vid I had seen as a kid. My limbs convulsed in agony and I felt my joints pop in and out of socket. This went on for hours, or felt like it at least. He stood making notes in rapid fire succession on his clipboard. Finally it ended and I lost consciousness. As the black overcame me I heard the doctor pull out his phone and dial.

“Herr Doktor? We may have a survivor. He has lasted thirty minutes so far. At least fifteen. He didn’t wait for me to tell him a dosage and I didn’t think it would matter.” Then nothing. Sweet, sweet nothing. I didn’t know it yet, but…

My name is Gear Dreary. And this is my superhero origin story..