Story Of Wonder

Prologue Pt 1


Martin Percy, also known as Wonderboy.
A rookie hero, only adorning the costume two months ago. An immature genius, with an I.Q of 187. He didn’t really care about his gift, and only used it to win science fair prizes, in attempt to take his father and himself out of their low class status.
After his father’s death, that’s when he truly accepted one crucial thing that his dad always told him.

He CAN make a difference in this god-forsaken world.

A young man stood in the center of a school gymnasium, standing next to a contraption of the sort. Several spectators surrounded him, standing in awe, staring the machine, which seemed to be a small box, with three yellow prongs protruding from the top of it, electric sparks occasionally falling from the tips. The young man’s piercing blue eyes moved from each person standing in front of him, studying them, his arms folded behind his back. Finally, he took in a deep breath, and the spectators leaned in, awaiting young Martin’s explanation on the contraption.

“This is, in my opinion, the most superb electric battery there is,” Martin stated, his voice flat and bold. Adjusting his tie rather quickly, he reached into his left pocket and pulled what seemed to be an iPod. He tipped the box over onto its back and placed the iPod onto it, the yellow prongs glowing in response. The iPod soon glowed in response and there was a thunderous applause from the crowd of spectators.

A man walked over to Martin, and grasped his wrist before swinging the boy’s arm violently into the air. “For the seventh time in a row, Martin Percy wins this years Country-Wide Science Fair, and the prize of $10,000!” The man exclaimed and handed Martin a check and trophy. Martin flashed the crowd a white grin, and gave everyone a thumbs up.

Not wasting any time, a policeman emerged from the crowd, and walked over to Martin, smiling on him. He placed his hand on his son’s shoulders and nodded. “Nice job, son.” George, Martin’s father, commented. Together the two walked out of the building, and toward a squad car.

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The door to the Percy home flew open and both George and Martin walked in, the latter carrying a large bag with, most likely, his prize money. “Whew, thank god that’s over.” Martin exclaimed, taking an exaggerated breath. He loosened his tie and easily went from a stoic, emotionless demeanor to a rather happy, excited one. He walked through the house, and took a seat at the kitchen table, emptying the entire bag onto the wooden surface. Soon enough, his father joined him at the table and the two sorted the money.

“You did it again, Wonderboy.” George muttered, grinning at his son.

“Psh, stop calling me that.” Martin replied, grinning at his father while sorting the money. After a good five minutes, he pushed the larger pile over to his dad, and kept the smaller pile, consisting of two sets of a thousand dollars. His father grinned at him once more and tears began to well up in his eyes.

“You truly are a Wonder.” George muttered. “Just wait until I get that promotion, we won’t have to live like this anymore.” the man muttered, picking up the bills.

“It’s no problem, dad. Just remember, you owe me.” Martin joked, leaning back in his chair. The two sat in silence, George steadily putting each stack in a safe bag, which would be used to be pay the bills due later this month. Finally, Martin spoke up. “Dad, you said you’d tell me today.”

“Tell you what?” George replied, rather apprehensively.

“Why-” Martin stopped himself. He gulped and took a deep breath. “Why Mom left.”

George sighed. He looked his son in the eyes, brown orbs meeting concerned, piercing blue ones. “You know, you have your mother’s eyes. You’re the only African american boy I’ve seen with beautiful orbs, in fact.” The man said, and Martin felt a bit uneasy. “Your mother wasn’t comfortable with the life-style we were living, so she simply left.”

“That’s what you always sa-” Martin couldn’t even finish his sentence before he was glared at by his father. Martin stood up from the table and after giving his father just one look, he made his way toward his room.

His fist clenched at his side in obvious anger, he made it down the hallway when his father yelled his name. The fourteen year old, turned his head and shifted his body slightly, leaning in the shadow of the hallway, his blue eyes seeming pierce through the darkness. “What?” He answered, frustration lacing his voice.

“Don’t be like me, make something of yourself. Make a difference in this world, Martin.” George said, giving his son a weak grin.


“Right, you always tell me that, I think I get it by now.” Martin replied and continued down the hallway, turned the corner and into his room.


George just stood there, staring at the spot Martin was just standing, looking miserable. He turned his head to the side, looking down at the table. More specifically, his son’s money. He sighed and moved toward the living room, taking a seat on the sullen, broken down couch before bursting into tears.

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Later that night, Martin sat at his computer desk, his laptop practically broken open as his fingers moved a screwdriver like a wild fire across the advanced circuitry only skilled mechanics and a person with his intelligence would get. “Freaking, don’t break on me now.” Martin moaned. After an hour of tinkering with the laptop’s advanced circuitry, he still couldn’t figure out what exactly was wrong with it. And seeing as his father was at work and he was in the house alone, he officially had nothing to do.

He turned his head and looked up at his wall, a rack holding several different colored martial arts belts, from yellow to black, then bounced to the trophies on the rack of his room. Doing all this stuff wasn’t really entertaining. Messing with people with a lot more fun than sitting in here all day. A deviant grin stretched across the boy’s face and he jumped from his chair onto the ground next to this bed and then proceeded to look under it.

He reached under the bed and pulled out what seemed to look like a large metallic silver spider with green eyes. He put the spider onto his desk and pulled out a draw, and pulled out what was his remote control was his television, although a bit modified and more parts added on it. “Let’s go play around with this bad boy, but first, let’s see if it works.” The boy muttered, and pressed the spider’s right eye, causing both of the green orbs to glow to life. With a press of a couple buttons, the spider crawled around the room, onto the wall, everything. Martin grinned at his invention, something he hadn’t touched in years.

He had been so busy with science fair competitions and other things, he had nearly forgotten his passion; Pranking.

But, a phone ring interrupted the boy’s place. With a lengthy groan, he rose from his chair, and moved to his bed and picked up his dinosaur of a cell phone before placing it to his ear. “Hello?” He muttered, and his ears were met with undecipherable screaming. Almost dropping the phone in the response. “Whoa, calm down, Aunty Leslie. What’s wrong?” Martin asked, perking up. But, the lady on the phone continued to scream.

“Deep breath.” Martin suggested, and his aunt did just that.

Finally, after five minutes of trying to compose herself, she say words that would officially change Martin’s life forever. Words that would spark the vigilante in him, and cause him to be a caped crusaders to wander the streets of New York. He dropped his phone in shock and he charged over to his window, pushed it open and leaped onto his front lawn, dashing down the street.

His father had just been killed.

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Martin leaned over his father’s body, tears soaking his father’s so-called bullet proof vest. Blood pooled around the body, and the ambulance sirens rung out through the night. Martin sat up, his face wet from all the crying, his eyes searching his father’s lifeless body. “D-Dad. . . Why?” He muttered, and began to cry even harder.

Footsteps were heard as two policeman, Martin’s father’s colleagues, came from behind Martin and placed their hands on his shoulders. “It’s okay, son.”

Martin shrugged their hands off and stared up at them, his eyes red from the tears. “NO, ITS NOT OKAY, MY FATHER’S DEAD!” He shouted, not even caring if he just gave them a spit-shower. “He was in the only one that cared. . .” Martin muttered, wiping his tears. The Policeman looked at each other, before the shorter one cleared his throat, stepping up to say something to the distraught young man. Martin looked up at the man, awaiting what the man had to say.

“He tried to stop one of those gangs, you know those ‘Green Buzzars’ or something from having a gang war, you know? He was brave, no one else wanted to do it. But. . . Yeah.” The man muttered, and Martin stood up, taking a deep breath before standing up and simply, walking away,

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He stood over the bed and saw his suit sprawled out on the bed sheets. A blue armored vest, made out of the same material (but strengthened) of the bullet proof vest that failed his father. Gray elastic pants made of the same material but on a smaller scale, and a black cape, made with the same material as the vest. He slipped this costume on, and reached for a mask before placing it securely on his face. He slipped on two gloves and then proceeded to look into the mirror, admiring his new look..

Martin was stepping up to the plate. He was going to do this, he was going to do what his father always told him to.

He was giving his father’s suggestion a chance.

He was going to make a difference.
A difference as a rookie hero.
A rookie hero named Wonderboy.

Prologue pt 2
Martin walked through the door of his aunt’s house, dropping his backpack and suitcase onto the wooden floor. He stood there, admiring the place. This house wasn’t spectacular, but Martin was so used to his run-down apartment, that when he entered his new home, he thought he was in a hotel.

His father died about two weeks ago, and over these past two weeks, Martin’s aunt, Leslie has been trying to get his paperwork together so that he could take him in. Martin would essentially start a new life. His aunt lived on the opposite end of Forest Hills, in the relatively rich, Caucasian neighborhood, and now, he was going to a private high school. He seemed to be in good hands now, but it bothered him. He was now living the life he wanted to live with his father. The ironic thing was, it was only because his father’s passing that he is able to live with his Aunt, anyway.

Another change was him becoming a hero. Martin was inspired by his father, who was a police officer, to become a hero. After all, his father was a hero to him, and Martin promised himself that he would make a change, just like his father always told him to. The rookie hero was also inspired by The League Of Heroes, an organization of superheroes who were the best of the best. He wanted to be like them, he wanted to be held at a such a esteem, but he knows that being a hero won’t be so easy. After all, he’s only fifteen. Younger superheroes are rare and never seem to get any recognition.

The younger heroes are usually sidekick, anyway, so maybe him acting on his own might garner him some attention from the citizens of New York.

Martin grinned at his Aunt Leslie, who smiled right back him. Aunt Leslie was a thin-curvy African-American woman, having the statue and posture of the proud, independent. She was in her nursing uniform, which consisted of a floral patterned button-up top and white slacks along with white sneakers. Her hair was kept in long, flowing braids, and she had big brown eyes, which seemed to hold much knowledge. She stood about the same height as Martin, but it was obviously that meant nothing; Leslie, no matter how short she was, was still in charge. “Alright, Marty, your room is upstairs, Paula will show you where, exactly.” Leslie said, following up her statement with a bright smile.

“Where is Paula, exactly?” replied Martin, looking around in confusion. His cousin was no where to be found.

Aunt Leslie blinked, and then sighed. She walked away from the door and toward the stairs, placing a foot on the bottom stair and grasping the railing. “Paula Anabela Royce! Get yer’ ass downstairs now! Help your cousin settle in!” The woman commanded, Martin slightly cringing to his aunt’s demanding tone.

“Ugh, Fine, Mom!” a bratty voice responded from upstairs. Soon after, a young girl, no older than seventeen walked down the stairs. She looked like her mother, but at the exact same time she didn’t. She had her mother’s dark skin, but instead of the same big, brown eyes, she had bright green eyes, which seemed to shine in contrast. Swiping a brown bangs to the side of her face, she met her mother at the bottom of the stairs. She stood there, arms crossed her rather ample chest, her body inclined as she turned her gaze onto her cousin.

Martin stood there awkwardly before waving to his cousin. “Hey, Paula.” He said shyly.

“Come on.” Paula demanded, and began to walk up the stairs. Martin looked at Aunt Leslie, who simply shrugged and walked back towards the door, reaching to the table right next to it and picking up car keys.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later. I have to go to work. Uncle Ozzy will be home soon.” Aunt Leslie said, kissing her nephew on the forehead before walking out of the door. Martin locked the door behind his aunt before picking up his suitcase and backpack, and following his cousin up the stairs.

“So, Paula, what’s this area like?” Martin asked, trying to spark a conversation.
“You’ll find out.” Paula retorted angrily, shutting her cousin down completely.

“Alrighty…” Martin muttered as he was led to his room, which was two rooms down from Paula and right next to the guest room. This room was way bigger than his old room back in his old apartment, which was about the size of two walk-in closets. He smiled, and set down his stuff next to the dresser before leaping forward and onto his rather comfy, queen-sized bed. Paula looked on with disinterest and after about two minutes, she simply closed the door and walked away.

Martin looked at the door for a while, seeing if his cousin would re-enter. After realizing she wouldn’t, he jumped off of the bed and landed in front of his suit case. He knelt down, and grabbed his backpack, lifting it up and putting the sac onto the bed. He quickly unzipped the bag and pulled out a series of things. He pulled out a laptop (which his aunt recently gave him), a large metal tool-box, a small tool box and a folded up article of clothing. He then moved away from the bed, and over to his suitcase. He unzipped it and pulled out a smaller suitcase from it. He unzipped the suitcase and held it over the bigger one, emptying all of the contents into it.

Martin walked back to his bed, and placed the small suitcase on his bed. Everything he took from the backpack, he put into the suitcase and quickly zipped it back up. Turning to the door one more time, the boy stared at it to see if it would open, and when it didn’t, he turned his attention back to the task at hand. He pulled a combination lock from his pocket and attached it to the suitcase, making sure whatever was it couldn’t be seen by any other eyes but his.

After all, he couldn’t let his family know that he was the newest hero in New York City. He couldn’t let them know that he was, or rather, he was going to be, Wonderboy.

Not bad. It's off to a nice start. Look forward to reading more.

I suggest he goes on a hunt for his father's killer, and accidently pushes the killer into a pool of acid or something, giving the killer superpowers too.

Just a random, cliched suggestion.

...None of that.

Random, cliched suggestion, as I said.