35° and Rising

Victor surveyed his surrounding. He was standing atop Hampstead Heath looking out across London, hands on hips, chest puffed out. It was mid-day and the sun was beating down. He had never felt stronger. It had only been yesterday when two Morphora goons suited up to the max had jumped out of a van and tried to take him in. They were no match with the sun at its zenith. Crash Bang Wallop. It took only a few minutes for Victor to dispose of them.

He was unsure how they heard about him. There was that car crash where he had saved three peoples lives, including a small child, that had appeared on the local news. Why they blamed him he’ll never know, he was no where near the crash when it happened. This saving people is a thankless job it seems. It’s not all bad, Victor mused, I looked damn good on TV.