I've always hated heroes.

My name is Apollo Davis and I've always hated heroes.

Ever since I was ten years old, I wished that every single person calling themselves a hero would die a slow and painful death. When I'd tell people this, they'd often look at me like I'm crazy. They'd say I'm a weirdo. They try to tell me how cool Iron Man was with his new suit that he just gentrified a whole city to pay for. I'm supposed to think that's cool?

You know, my family died because of the heroes. In fact, I still remember that day as if it were yesterday.

A few years ago, there was this hero named Speedball. Being a hero wasn't good enough for him. He wanted to be a big reality TV star and make a show where he stops villains on live television or whatever. You wanna know what happened?

He showed up at a house with a bunch of villains that he couldn't handle. Get this, one of his partners tried to warn him that those villains were too much for him. They said he might be biting off more than he can chew. Guess what he said to his partner, mind you, this was all recorded on camera.

"Think of the ratings."

"This could be the best episode of the entire second season."

The ratings. Think about the ratings.

He cared more about the ratings on his show than the lives of my family. It wasn't just my family either, it was dozens of families. All broken because the heroes think that their powers are toys. They think that we, the little guys, don't matter.

After talking about their ratings amongst each other, the heroes busted into the villain's hideout and fought them for a bit until Namorita pinned the villain Nitro up against a school bus.

"Don't try one of those explosions." She told him. Like telling him that was gonna stop him. Of course, she had to look all cool, confident, and heroic on camera right? You can't let the fans down. Right?

Well, Nitro exploded. Blowing up the entire nearby neighborhood and killing nine hundred people. Nine hundred lives were lost that day. All because a hero wanted to shoot a reality tv show.

I came home that day, or at least, I came back to what was left of it. I saw nothing more than the charred remains of my parents inside the house with my baby brother. He was just a week old before he was reduced to ash by those so-called heroes. My little sister was home too, in fact, her body was the first thing I saw when I got home. Her lifeless charred body was still gripping the swing set I used to push her on.

She wasn't old enough to go to school, so she would wait for me to get back every single day so I can push her on the swing. She died waiting for me. She was only five years old.

Ever since that day, I despised every single one of those bastards. From that day forward, I pledged to myself that if I were to ever get bitten by a radioactive spider, exposed to gamma radiation, or given a suit of iron armor, I would kill every single one of them. Years passed and I never got my wish, however, I got something better than superpowers.

On the first day of the second semester of my senior year of high school, I was staring outside of the classroom window, waiting for my boring class to finally end. As I stared lazily at the grass beneath me, I noticed something rather peculiar.

As if it were weightless, A black notebook fell from the sky, taunting me on its way down as if it were calling to me. It intrigued me, but I just assumed that some kid must've been getting bullied on the school rooftop and one of the bullies must've thrown the notebook from up there. I've been there. It sucks. I figured the kid would come down eventually, but he never did.

Just as I was lost in thought, the school bell rang, prompting us all to get up out of our seats like cattle and head to lunch.

I usually didn't eat. I'd just wander around the school, with my hands in my pockets until the bell rang, signaling us to head back to class.

I could've made friends or a girlfriend, but none of the crowds interested me. I wasn't ugly, in fact, people would always tell me that I was good looking. Though I looked like one of the "cool" kids, they were all idiots. The smart kids, although nowhere near me in terms of intellect, were all weirdos or weebs so I wanted nothing to do with them. I mean, I'd watch an anime or two but why would an eighteen-year-old start shooting Kamehameha beams in class? No thanks.

Because of those reasons, I chose to be a loner and wander. This time, as I wandered, I couldn't stop thinking about that book. I knew it was just a notebook of some dork getting pushed around, but I was still drawn to it.

With my hands still in my pockets, I continued walking toward the field of grass where I saw the notebook land from my classroom window. Once I arrived, I looked around for a bit and noticed that the notebook was gone.

'Hmph. Figured. He must've come back down and picked it up.' I thought to myself as I turned back around and continued my stroll around campus. After taking a few steps, I heard the sound of something hitting the floor behind me.

Without turning my body, I turned my neck to see what it was that made the sound. My eyebrows raised slightly as my interest in the notebook was once again piqued.

Right behind me was the same black notebook that I saw from my classroom window.

In one motion, I turned my body around and faced the notebook. I glanced at it for a few seconds before looking up at the school building to see if some nerd was up there getting his shit thrown down from the roof once again.

Using my hand as a shield from the sun, I investigated the rooftop from below. I scanned from left to right, seeing nothing, before scanning it once again from right to left. For a second, I thought I saw a figure of a person, but once I focused my eyes on that location, it seemingly disappeared.

"Weird." My attention was then brought back to the notebook. I failed to notice before, but on the cover of the black notebook were the words 'Death Note' in what seemed like a white marker. I scoffed upon seeing it, figuring it was some nerd's journal where he writes down the names of the people he dislikes, hoping they'd die. Little did I know at the time, I wasn't too far off.

"Death Note, huh." I opened the notebook to find that there were a set of rules written on the inside of the cover, written in white ink. I read them aloud to myself upon inspection.

"The human whose name is written in this note shall die?" I scoffed once more upon seeing this.

'This is definitely some nerd's journal he uses to vent out his frustration.' I began flipping through the pages, only to see that they were completely empty, seemingly falsifying my theory. I flipped back to the first page and continued reading the rules aloud.

"This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected."

"If the cause of death is written within the next forty seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen."

"If the cause of death is not specified, the person will die of a heart attack."

"After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next six minutes and forty seconds."

I stared at the page for a few seconds after reading it, trying to determine whether or not this is some sick prank, the nerd theory, or if the things it was saying were actually true. I mean, knowing that I lived in a world full of superheroes, this book being real wasn't too far-fetched.

I scanned the area for a bit, not making it obvious in case someone was watching me in hiding. Once I was sure that I was alone, I slipped the notebook into my bag and continued on with the rest of my day.

A few hours later, there were only about ten minutes left in class. Tony Stark was giving a speech on television, and of course, our teacher was streaming it for the class. He was showing off his new suit and all the stupid features he has on it. I think he said it was called the Silver Centurian suit. I wasn't really paying attention because I didn't really care, but it was red and silver.

'I wish he would just kill himself or something.' I thought to myself. Tony Stark was one of the heroes I hated the most. All he did was fly around in his billion-dollar suits, build his bullshit in poor cities, forcing the cost of living to go up so people had to move elsewhere, and his mustache looks like shit. My hatred for him brought the notebook back into my mind.

'It would be pretty funny if that notebook actually was real.' I jokingly told myself in my head.

After a few seconds, I pulled the notebook out of my bag and opened it up out of boredom. I knew nothing would really happen, but I thought I'd mess around and make something super elaborate in order to burn time. Here's what I wrote.

"Tony Stark will put on his new suit and stand at the center of the stage. Doing a salute, he will yell the words 'Hail Hydra!' before shutting his mask and beaming the entire crowd in front of him. Once he's done with that, he turns his own hand toward himself, lowers his mask, and beams himself in the face. He once again says 'Hail Hydra!' before he beams himself. Cause of death: Face melting."

'Hmph. Imagine if Iron Man actually did something like that. That'd be hilarious, to be honest.' I obliviously thought that the things I wrote would never come to be, however, after six minutes and forty seconds, the book would prove me wrong.

Tony Stark walked over to his new suit, stepping inside of it in order to let the suit close on his body. With his mask still open, Tony Stark walked to the center of the stage and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds.

The crowd looked at him in confusion. They were dead silent.

Suddenly, his arm shot up in a salute, seeming as if it were involuntary.

Then he spoke.

"Hail Hydra!" Upon hearing this, my eyes widened and my entire body felt a shock go through it. I frantically began attempting to erase what I had written in an attempt to reverse it, but this did nothing.

Iron Man lowered his mask before pointing his hands at the crowd. His palms began to glow brightly before discharging his beams into the crowd. Their screams could be heard through the TV as they frantically tried to run for cover as the beams miraculously missed every single one of them.

The teacher fumbled for her mouse, but the mouse cursor wouldn't move on the screen. As Iron Man continued to try and slaughter the crowd, the teacher ran over to the plug on the projector and unplugged it, however, the screen was still continuing to play.

Whatever magic was used to create this notebook was likely not allowing us to look away. No, it wasn't allowing ME to look away. It wanted me to watch and see the consequences of my actions. The consequences of being the owner of this notebook.

Though I wrote that Tony Stark would kill everyone in the crowd, everyone was completely unscathed. I figured the Death Note itself must not allow me to write someone to kill other people, though I'd know the specifics of that rule soon enough. Once Iron Man was finished beaming the crowd, killing no one, he opened his mask before turning his own hand against himself.

His face.

His expression.

It was something I'd never forget.

He looked as if he were being held at gunpoint by someone else. Tears were streaming down his wide eyes as he battled to take back control of his body. Once his hand was fully facing himself, his expression shifted into that of an emotionless corpse before looking into the camera and uttering his final words.

"Hail Hydra."