Hello. This is my first one-shot. Might be kind of short-sorry.
There, I said it; I've admitted it, and I hope you're happy. After all, isn't that what you've always been dying to hear?
I wasted almost the entire evening last night, locked in the confines of my room, staring at your mask. It's what I usually do, checking over the smooth surface painted orange and black, a thousand times in a row, trying to discover who you are. But you already knew that, didn't you?
I know I'm predictable-too much for my own good, actually, regarding my anger and my fears. I used to marvel at how well you knew me; but I see it now. Figuring out who I am, what makes me tick, what my personality's like-it isn't as complex as I had used to like imagining.
I let my emotion take over too often: I get attached to people who you later exploit as weaknesses. My rage at the unfairness of my parents' deaths breaks through my calm exterior too many times when I see other examples that I can relate to.
It's no wonder you know everything about me. I practically gave you my history, my life's story, on a silver platter.
But you weren't much better concealing your true self, either. I know who you are.
Slade Wilson: Married to Adeline Kane, but she divorced you when she discovered your secret activities as a mercenary, and shot you in the eye as well. Your two sons, Grant and Joseph, are dead because of you. I also hear your daughter Rose is out to kill you. Guess I'm not the only one then, eh?
..…Does it bother you, knowing that your family life was torn apart because of your own selfish choices? Or did you never really care in the first place?
No matter how many times you taunt me on the subject and whisper in my ear that it's the truth, we are not alike. Not even close.
You are darkness, the epitome of evil in my eyes. Everyone you've ever claimed to "love," was really just an obstacle in your way, hindering you from what you really desire: Power.
I value human life, the reason why I dedicate my life and energy to protect innocence from the likes of you. I stand for truth and justice. But you are correct about one thing: I am a shade of gray, poised on the razor thin line that is claimed to separate the difference between good and evil. I've accepted this too, finally.
Perhaps I'm not a "pure" hero, if such a thing exists, if it's possible to live up to the standard definitions and expectations the public has of that word.
But I'm pretty damn close.
Darkness resides in my heart, but it lives also in others greater and more respected than I am.
The world depends on white and black, the perfect symbol of yin and yang, darkness and light within each other…and a solid gray line dividing it for eternity. I have found that I don't have to be perfect.
I never would have thought that the sight of your hated mask would create such an astounding revelation within me. But as I sat there, I felt my mind reject the lies I've used as excuses for my past actions.
You've tried so hard, devoting your energy to intimidating me and breaking my spirit that has rejected you on countless occasions.
But your missions failed.
I stand before you now, open with my heart, consumed with fear of the unknown, and yet not at all. My soul is filled with unbelievable rage and wisdom for my age, beyond anything you and your hatred could comprehend. Because of what you've done to me.
I hope you're happy.
You struggled to force me over the edge; well you have, but not to meet insanity. Rather…
You spoke many times of meeting with me face to face. Well, I'm ready.
How about you?
I wrote this because, though there are a lot of stories out there full of him suffering from severe angst (Me being one of those writers,) there aren't as many with him believing in himself and having enough confidence to transform into what he really is: A hero.