When I was a kid, I was friends with a guy named Carl. Carl and I lived in the same neighborhood, went to the same school and were both huge geeks. Now, this was before the MCU was a cultural juggernaut, so being a geek tended to mean you got your ass kicked, which our local bully, Fred, made sure to do. Carl and I stayed friends for years, from elementary to high school. It’s in high school where everything starts.
I found that I had a pretty strong knack for science, especially chemistry. I wasn’t a Walter White or anything, but I knew my stuff. Carl, meanwhile, wasn’t a great student, and didn’t have too many friends outside of me. He was angry and bitter, causing him to retreat more and more into fantasy. The constant bullying by Fred and his crew didn’t help either. He was constantly berated, shoved into lockers, and humiliated by Fred and his cronies.
One day, while we were hanging out at my house, Carl asked, “What if we had superpowers?”
I laughed. “Then we’d probably be able to get laid.”
“I’d punch Fred into next week.”
I nodded. Honestly, I’d do the same. Fred didn’t exactly leave me alone either. Carl then eyed my chemistry set.
“What if you gave us superpowers?” Carl said.
I looked at him in confusion. “What?”
“Well, you’re good at chemistry. You can make a super soldier serum or something!”
I laughed.
“I’m serious,” Carl said.
“You think a high school kid can make you Captain America?” I asked.
“When you think about it, all Captain America got were super steroids from the 1940s. All you’ve got to do is just juice up some steroids. Then we can get back at Fred.”
“Ah,” I said. “You don’t want to be Captain America. You want to be Captain Columbine.”
Carl refused to be talked down. “Think about it. We’d be stronger, get all the girls, and wouldn’t have to worry about creeps like Fred pushing us around anymore.”
“Dude, even if I could do that, that’s a terrible idea. Like, there are dozens of comics in which some dorks try remaking the super soldier serum and instead become monsters. I think that’s basically Ultimate Hulk’s origin!”
Carl wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Ah, but you’re not Ultimate Bruce Banner. He’s a comic book character, and you’re real.”
“Unlike the super soldier serum, which is famously not from a comic book.”
Carl backed off. “Ok, fine, whatever. I was just joking anyway.”
We both know he was full of it, but I didn’t push back on it. After he left, I stared at my chemistry set, lost in thought.
The next day, Carl, Fred, and I were in chemistry class together. Carl and I were working with a Bunsen burner when Fred walked by and shoved Carl into it. The flames set his shirt on fire, and he fell to the floor, trying to stop, drop, and roll. I got some water and dumped it on him, extinguishing the flames.
Despite Fred very obviously doing this, he didn’t get in any trouble. Fred claimed it was an accident. No one really challenged him. Carl and I went to a football school, and Fred just so happened to be our team’s quarterback. This was in the middle of the season, and no one wanted him off the team. So, him immolating my friend was just swept under the rug. What sticks with me is Fred’s smile while Carl was burning. He not only knew that he’d get away with it but he also enjoyed it.
Carl went to the hospital, where he stayed for a couple of days. I went home, and thought things over. On my wall was a Spider-Man poster. I felt those white jack-o-lantern eyes on his mask bore into me. “With great power comes great responsibility.” That’s the motto Spider-Man lives by. He uses his powers to help those who need it. The thing about that phrase is that when his Uncle Ben told him that, he had no idea Peter had powers. As far as Ben knew, Peter was just a smart kid. He was telling Peter to use his intelligence to help others.
I thought about Carl, set on fire. I thought about Fred, smiling smugly. I thought about how Fred got out scot-free, with no consequences, and would go on hurting people because he was strong and rich and popular. I looked at my chemistry set.
With great power comes great responsibility. I don’t know if I could make a super soldier serum. But I could try.
It would be a few days before I saw Carl again. In that time, I started working on my little serum. I found little blogs and sites online that listed some formulas to try. Keep in mind, this was back in the late 2000s. The Internet was a lot weirder and a lot less centralized. If you knew where to look, you could find some wild things.
By the time I saw Carl at school again, his arm was all bandaged up. Fred gave a limp, probably forced, apology, but still went out of his way to bully Carl. After a hellish day of school, we went to my house.
“So,” I said. “You know how we were talking about that super soldier serum thing?”
Carl raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“Well…” I said, then opened the door into my room to show him what I’d been up to. Flasks and cylinders filled with liquids lined the tops of my drawers. Various papers covered with formulas littered the floor. And, most notably, lying on my desk was a tube of a green liquid.
Carl looked at the tube. “Is that…?” he asked.
“It’s a prototype,” I said. “It’s not quite done yet. I’ve still got to tweak some things.”
Carl pushed me out of the way and grabbed the tube.
“Carl, what are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m getting some superpowers,” Carl said.
“It’s not done yet! It could kill you!”
Carl glared at me. “And you think Fred won’t? Fred literally set me on fire and got away with it. Imagine what he’ll do next time. No, I’m doing this now. I won’t be weak anymore.”
And with that, Carl drank the entire serum. He dropped the tube, shattering it on the floor. He fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Before my eyes, I watched him change. His normally skinny frame filled out, muscles expanding and growing. He screamed as tendons stretched and bones expanded. I could do nothing but watch as my friend’s body reshaped itself.
And then, just like that, it was over. Carl was still. I walked over to him.
“Carl? You ok there?” I asked.
Carl opened his eyes and got up. He looked at his new body and flexed his muscles.
“Oh, I’m excellent.” Carl punched my dresser, his fist going clean through its wooden frame. Carl pulled his fist back, looked at it, and smiled. He walked out of my room. I followed behind.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I’m getting revenge,” he said.
He walked through the halls of my house as I followed behind. My parents were out, so only he and I were there.
“Stop!” I said. “We don’t know what could happen! I need to make sure you aren’t going to die or explode or – ” I put my hand on Carl’s back, then pulled it back as his skin burned me.
What the hell? I thought.
Carl pushed me away, knocking the wind out of my chest and sending me flying a good ten feet back. He stared at me, shocked at what he just did, but then looked away.
“Sorry, man,” he said. “But I’ve got to do this.”
I tried to get up and follow after him as he left my house, but I was too hurt to do so immediately. It wasn’t until around ten minutes later when I was able to get up.
I knew where he was going, and I knew what he was going to do. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.
The quickest way to Fred’s house from mine would be to cut through the woods. I walked through them, cursing myself for not bringing a flashlight as I kept tripping over branches.
As I was wondering how I’d even catch Carl, I heard a scream. I rushed towards it, branches slicing my clothes and skin. Suddenly, I saw a fire not too far from me. I ran over, and saw that the blaze looked… human.
Oh my god. That was Carl. The serum, it…it set him on fire.
Carl turned towards me.
“Help…me…” he gasped. “It…hurts…”
He stumbled around, his body setting every bit of foliage near him aflame. I stepped back, unsure of what to do.
“Please…” he said, before he clutched his chest and fell over. His flames went out, and I could see that every inch of his body was completely burnt. There was no way he was alive. I went back home and called 911. I got rid of my notes, chemistry stuff, and Spider-Man poster. When the cops asked what happened, I made up some story about him being on drugs. Coroners ruled Carl’s cause of death a heart attack, most likely from an unknown substance they found in his system. Cops assumed the fire came from him trying to light up whatever he was on and messing up. Carl was buried a few weeks later.
The rest of high school was a blur for me. I just tried keeping my head down and moving on. I graduated, went to college, got a job, and tried putting what happened behind me.
Then, today, Carl’s mom called me. She said that Carl’s grave had been vandalized the night before.
“Someone stole his body,” she said. “His coffin was opened and his body was gone. The police said that it looked like the inside of his coffin has been burnt too. Who could even do something like that? And why would they do that to Carl?”
I didn’t answer, as the only thing occupying my mind was a growing feeling of dread.
After I got off the phone with her, I tried finding a way to contact Fred. I Googled him, hoping I could find a Facebook, Instagram, phone number or, hell, even a mySpace account. Instead, I found a news article with the headline, “THREE DEAD IN HOUSE FIRE.”
Last night, Fred’s home burned down with him, his wife, and infant daughter inside. A neighbor caught a picture of the house while it burned.
In the background, just out of focus, I could see a human shaped figure engulfed in flame.