Marvel wants you to come up with a new character, what is this new hero/anti hero like? (write a short story win a prize vol. 2)?

(Two Anti-Heroes coming right up. They were created for my Superhero RPG setting. ) "Please I beg you sir, let me out of this cell.

The cell will not hold the beast. " "I tested this cell. This cell once held me, it will hold you."

The man with the glowing eyes spoke firmly, but his eyes did not seem confident. "It is not me you must hold, it is her, when this body dies she will find another. If her hunger goes unchecked, she will gladly kill me to be free, she is fond of me, but her hunger knows no kindness.

I can keep her in check, to an extent, but her next host may lack the strength to hold her at all. " Fall Tracker paused and made note of the man's voice, body language, and the soft beating of his heart, "You are being honest with me . .. Tell me, what is she?" "You have seen her, trust your eyes.

She is a dragon. She tries to be just, but you must understand , she must feed, she will feed or she will frenzy. I have been here many years, she grows very hungry.

We . ..we haven't much time." "You have a hundred years to rot in this place without my help. Tell me everything you know about her.

" Fall could not believe the betrayal he was considering, "Tell me what you know, and I may consider letting you out." "First you must understand, I am far older then I appear, I am a British veteran of the First Opium War. When the United Kingdom of Great Britain first occupied Hong Kong. During the colinization I discovered a cult in Hong Kong that worshiped a great dragon.

They would take criminals and other undesirables for a sacrifice to thier god. Well, needless to say, we could not have that savagery. Little did we know this god was real."

The man paused with a sad smile. "She does not seem fond of old tales, I am out of time. " The man's eyes closed and his body began to grow cold.

Fall heard the man's last heartbeat. "No! Damn it.

Medic! " Fall keyed the entry code to the door and rushed into the cell. He jumped right into her trap.

********************************************************* Name: Fall Tracker, Scout 108 Origin: G.E.N.H. Genetically Engineered Neo-Human. Created using the genetic material from Eugine Brooks. This Geneticly engineered human was created to be a super soldier.

Powers, super sences, regeneration, super reflexes, telescopic vision, night vision, unnatrual strength, photographic memory, resistance to pain, short range telepathy. Fall was one of the first GENH soldiers created after a blood sample from Eugine Brooks was obtained by the government. Name: Eugine Brooks / Greyscale Origin: Human / Supernatural Human Powers: Peak human willpower, Resistance to pain, Inhuman durability, regeneration, immunity to disease, ageless unnatural strength, telepathy, mist form, total body control, dragon mist (a visible form of telekinetics, that usually takes the shape of a serpent like dragon) Once a normal human, Eugine became possessed by an alien entitiy that takes the form of a dragon.Name: Mist Dragon, The serpent of air, The lady Origin: Alien Powers: She can use the following abilities when attached to a living being: Resistance to pain, Inhuman durability, regeneration, immunity to disease, ageless unnatural strength, telepathy, mist form, total body control, dragon mist Weakness: She has no physical body, she must devour the essence of life or frenzy.

One human soul must be consumed per month she can go for years without food, but will in time frenzy devouring two souls for every month missed. Later a device was made that would trigger a frenzy .. . But that is a story for another time.

I think my hero would be a bit too dark for Marvel but I've always liked the character(and was actually going to use him for your other story question, goatead1 lol)) Name: Anthony Powers Age: mid thirties Sex: Male Race: Caucasian Plot: Anthony was an ordinary man, he had a loving wife, only a few years left on mortgage payments, and a 69 Plymouth roadrunner that filled any void that may have whispered 'procreate'. He had opened a boxing gym a few short years ago; which had been his dream for as long as he could remember after first watching Bret ‘The tman’ Heart and trying out the Sharp Shooter on his little brothers. On Saturday nights he spent his hours throwing back cold ones and shooting pool with his buddies at the local bar; and on Sunday mornings he did like every loyal husband would do and accompanied the wife to mass.

Not that he was very religious, but he figured that if he had been so lucky as to win over a beauty like the misses then he wasn’t going to complain. For a long time things were like this: simple, easy, if not slightly boring. That all changed in a split second.

After coming home early from the rings one day; he walked into his bedroom to find his wife in bed with another man. Overcome with rage and out of his mind, Anthony choked the man to death. They called it a ‘Crime of Passion’; voluntary manslaughter.

Ten years with a chance of early parole. They say that you see many things in the pen. That it can change a man; and that’s exactly what it did.

With blood on his hands, Anthony is a broken man. Self hatred and pity gnaw at him every day. He’s in various fights, and get a few good stitches every now and again.

Then he meets Henry. Henry isn’t like everyone else. There’s something innocent about him, something pure that Anthony desperately needs.

He becomes friends with the man, who is in his early eighties. Though this friendship Anthony learns that Henry truly is innocent; framed. Turns out that Henry didn’t murder his wife after all.

Beth was the secretary to a man of power in the city, and after stumbling across an underground sex slave ring run by her boss she is murdered in her very house, by Henry’s own gun. Henry walks into his home to find his 38 caliber lying on the floor. Naturally, he picks it up before looking through the rooms in confusion and finding his dead wife in they’re bedroom.

Almost like fate, at that very instant the cops bust inside, having been called by the neighbors the moment the gun shot rang out. Henry is arrested. Covered in his wife’s blood and his fingerprints on the gun is all the evidence they need.

He’s sentenced to life with no parole. Shortly after his imprisonment Beth’s sister makes him a visit, ranting about a call Beth had made to her the night before her death, something about a slave ring and her boss being the head honcho of it all. Henry realizes that he’s been framed and tells her to go to the police about it.

But just because they’re cops doesn’t make them the good guys. A few on the force are aware and members of the slave trade, and the next day Beth’s sister’s body is found floating in the river. Henry is unavenged.

It’s in this moment that Anthony realizes the true horrors in the world, that there is such a thing as monsters, though they don’t have scales or fangs, but wear suits and drive Mercedes. The next day Henry is killed by an inmate, and Anthony swears over his dieing body that when he get’s out, he will avenge Henry, and kill the man that murdered his wife as well as hunt down the cops that murdered his wife’s sister. Six years later Anthony get’s out on parole.

He’s been planning this for years, going over the details again and again and it’s almost second nature to him. He finds where the Boss lives, and breaks into his house one calm night. He’s easy to go down.

Being in his late eighties and having spent his life smoking far too many cigarettes and drinking far too much booze. Boss wakes up to find himself tied to his desk chair, Anthony sitting calmly on his desk, gazing down at the snow globe in his hand from which came from it’s surface. After a few minutes of Q and no A, Anthony slams the snow globe across Bosses head; finally getting the names of the dirty cops.

After Boss begins to patronize Anthony, to spit out obscenities driven by fear, Anthony loses his head and begins to choke Boss. Images of when he strangled his wife’s lover to death flash before his eyes, and he is able to pull back, telling himself he is no monster and won’t kill him like he is. Instead he plunges the chair, which Boss is tied to, through his three story window and down into the pool below, where Boss drowns.

He says a few words for Henry before leaving the house with the names of the cops. Now he has to complete the hardest part; remember to go to his parole meetings and look for a job. LOL.

Yea so I would have the first comic book that and then more on with each cop. I think it would fit a graphic novel more. I don’t think marvel comics are that dark.

Name: Memoria Real Name: Sugey Rosas Origin: Ciudad Juárez, Mexico Powers: vivid photographic memory, ability to relive and interact in memories, able to share memories and see memories of others. Photographic memory is present in less than 10% of humans and usually dissappears completely by adulthood. When she was 7 years old, Sugey was present for the cold-blooded killing of both her parents by the infamous Juárez drug trafficking cartel.

Unable to break free from the grotesque images of torture and mutilation, she suffered extremely deep levels of depression and eventually was committed to a psychiatric facility for schizophrenia. The unmarried Rosas had no outside contact and as a result became extremely inward oriented. Her deep self-involvement and the intense focus upon the surreal delusions of persecution and grandeur, eventually resulted in lifelike hallucinations of past events.

After 7 years of psychiatric care and countless hours of infatuated concentration, she found herself able to willfully conjure any previous memory into a lifelike reenactment, only visible to her own mind. This deep connection to the powers of the psyche eventually produced an even greater ability: the power to tap into the stored memories of others. With her new powers under control, she used the past experiences and memories of the psychiatric ward employees to gain her freedom through blackmail and deception.

Once free, she dedicates her life and the use of her new powers to fight against the bloodthirsty drug and human trafficking ring destroying Mexico. This is where her story begins...

He called himself "I.M. " Not that the initials meant anything or because he had the ego the size of the whole Internet. He was by all means an ordinary fellow who went to work from 9 to 5 just like any other Joe. He was a nobody.

S existence is not even a footnote that you could find on Wikipedia. But there he was, immersed in the stream of consciousness that everybody knew nothing about yet subscribed to. By 6 PM.

He would immerse himself in a tub of salt water to prepare himself for what was to come. It somehow soothed him and prepared him for what he was about to do in the next 9 hours. When he was done, he'd get a towel and wrap it around his waist.

He went straight to his computer. He thought long and hard about what he would do next. There were times when he'd just sit there, watching the activity that unfolds 24/7.

There was a guy "tweeting" about some magic formula to make him rich. He just smirked at the prospect. After all, if only all the people who bought this magic formula knew the person selling it personally - they'd run a hundred miles away and not even think about clicking that "link"."$100,000 a day?

" He'd have to quit his job with that kind of money. That said, what he can do, didn't affect his way of life. Other people would've used this special "skill" for more nefarious reasons and get rich instantaneously.

He was beyond that. He knew that that there was evil in this world and that his purpose was to track them down and hunt them like wild animals. One by one.

He came out of his introspection when a message caught his attention. This disgusted him to the deepest recesses of his soul. He began to sing, "This old man, he played one, he played knick.... knack...." he grabbed a power cord with an exposed ending and a UTP cable, there was an acrid hissing and his body began to smoke.

He tried not to shiver too much. The pain was overwhelming. Within a second, he was no longer in the room.

Some people would say that he became a part of the Internet. They were wrong. He is the Internet.

I cant really gove you an answer,but what I can give you is a way to a solution, that is you have to find the anglde that you relate to or peaks your interest. A good paper is one that people get drawn into because it reaches them ln some way.As for me WW11 to me, I think of the holocaust and the effect it had on the survivors, their families and those who stood by and did nothing until it was too late.