Callum was acutely aware that there were plenty of secrets on the Isles. With a magical place housing the demigods, jamming their phones to the island, the location of the island being unknown, mysteries to be solved. There were some abandoned cabins deeper into the island, be it either for minor demigods that had yet to discover their children, or extra housing, but given the history of this place, it's entirely possible that demigods had lived here once before.
He didn't know why he found himself in this abandon cabin in the middle of the night, it was Oakley who invited the demigod along, and knowing he would be up late anyway, he decided to tag along. Callum hoped that if there were ghosts that they were ghosts of demigods, demigods of gods not on this island, so Callum could catalog their powers as well for his research.
He had lost Oakley at some point, walking out of one of the dark bedrooms and peering down the hall, " Oakley?" He called out, voice echoing off the stone walls.
heroes come in all sizes. some are small, some are big, some are fast, and some are slow. some have powers like flight or super strength, whilst others had none. reading them in comic books and watching them on the news could make a kid dream and a small boy wanted to be a hero too.
kayleb finley was seven when he decided he wanted to be a hero. before he'd pretend like any other kid, but those delusions started to become a reality to him. he would do crazy stupid stunts like climb on top of playground equipment in attempts to fly or go zooming down the steepest hill of the neighborhood (ones that no kids would dare to go down) only to crash and burn or chase after bullies, only to have the favor handed back to him.
however, he still dreamed and his dream would to become a hero.
--
the streets were crowded. there was chatting and laughter, people biking and people walking. there was a business man yelling obscenities loudly on his phone and there was a mother coaxing her crying baby. however, there was something suspicious in the air.
a pair of two men hid in an alleyway, snickering as they watched the people walk by. they searched for the perfect target; someone they knew they could take down easily and get away with what they desired. soon, their ideal victim was in sight. an old lady with a bag that hung heavily in her frail, bony arm and a cane in the other, slowly crept her way past them.
"a'ight, ya grab her bag at the count of three 'n make a run for it. 'll meet ya back at the car. y'know where 's at."
"got it, boss!"
"one... two... three..."
the rounder of the two ran out onto the street and snagged the bag easily from the woman's arm and made his mad dash down the pavement, shoving people who blocked him.
what they never expected was for a mere kid, the age of fifteen to see.
"i'll help you, mam!" kayleb, whom had been walking in the same direction posed, music filled his head (or maybe the people could hear it too), grabbing the attention of the many onlookers who happened to see the entire scene unfold. while it started with hope and admiration in the eyes of people, it soon grew to annoyance and confusion.
"well, ain't ya gonna do something, kid?"
"y-yeah! i was getting to that, stu--... sir!" he stuttered, correcting himself from using such language around a stranger and he kicked off his heel and started running after the thief. lucky for him, the man was slow. unlucky for him, he was never exceptional when it came to these hero acts either. he wasn't going to give up, though!
the man turned a corner, so he followed pursuit, only to crash into someone who happened to be coming the same way.
"whoa, kadyn. you shouldn't run. you might hurt that face of yours and then you can't model for me."
that voice... god, why now of all times does he have to be cursed with such an unfavorable presence? couldn't have waited an hour, a day, never? probably not. this guy never seemed to show up where kayleb wanted him to, which was nowhere. he was always dragged around from here to there, forced to get in front of a lens some how and have the bright lights flashing in his eyes, he was even sexually harassed with butt grabs from the male.
oakley was the bane of his existence.
"it's kayleb, dumbass." the younger boy corrected, looking down the street. the man was nowhere in sight. "damnit! you let him get away! i was supposed to stop him!" he clenched his fists. it was more-so to stop himself from hitting oakley.
"sorry, kris. hey, i need you for a bit." kayleb didn't even have the chance to protest because the moment he opened his mouth he was getting dragged in the direction of oakley's disgusting apartment. (he still shouted his protests, but he never managed to get away from him as much as he wanted to.)
he'd just have to dwell on his failure later.
--
when kayleb wasn't trying to save the day, he'd spend his days going to school like any other kid. he'd be tormented by some kid, billy was his name. hated him. he was followed outside of school by being called a "princess who needed to be saved," by some guy whose name he never caught. hated him? he was stalked by oakley, hated him, whom was sometimes accompanied by a nicer kid named arthur. liked him.
it was a mess and he longed for his days to be a hero.
however, he wasn't always happy. he felt useless. he would haul up in his room, depressed. he'd never cry, though. he'd just draw shitty cartoons of himself as an actual hero. he didn't know what to call himself, but one kid teased him about his powers once (which were so moronically obvious it was sad) and said he was more like a "mascot." surprisingly enough, he went with that alias.
those days in depression often made him wonder if he could ever be a hero or if he was just some useless kid. he wanted to try. he wanted to do better, but every time was an unbelievably remarkable failure and he never managed to save anyone at all. maybe he was really useless.
--
there was a moment his dreams came crashing down.
winter always led to icy apartment stairwells, often unpredictable. kayleb remembers walking out that morning, bundled up and breathing warm air onto his bare hands when he saw a kid from a floor above theirs slipping. it would be a six floor drop.
kayleb didn't hesitate as he ran the winding stairs and grabbed onto the kid before he would fall off. however, safety never came for either of them. the fifteen year old was too hasty in his run and the moment he latched his arms around the kid his foot slipped underneath him from underneath him and they went falling down the stairs that were left and the railing gave out as they crashed into it.
this is it. he was going to die here.
the child's life was more important than his own, kayleb knew that before the mother appeared at the top of the stairs with screams of terror and fear-stricken eyes. he used his body to hold onto the kid so he'd at least break the child's fall. after that, he forgot everything else.
--
he was never born with any special powers. he couldn't fly. he didn't have spiderwebs to shoot from his hands to swing from building to building. he didn't have super strength. he couldn't heal. all he was was a kid who could just pose "epically."
kayleb was no hero.
--
steady beeping filled kayleb's ears when his eyes opened. the hospital room was white. everything was white. he was hooked up to machines and flowers surrounded his bed, cards leaning against them. he recognized one with a picture on it. it was they boy. he lived, though in the picture he could see bandages and a cast, but he was smiling.
this wasn't how it was supposed to be. he was supposed to not be hurt at all! frustration overcame him. heroes were supposed to get the people out of harm and kayleb never did anything like that. he couldn't stop the tears that came to his eyes and he sat up to wipe them away, ignoring the pain that spread across his broken body.
"it's okay, kael. you can still model with casts," oakley's voice. he never anticipated on someone being here.
"s-stupid... this isn't about modeling," kayleb answered between tears, sending an unconviceable glare to the person now standing next to his bed. he didn't know why, but his hands grabbed onto oakley's shirt and he buried his face into it, unable to stop the tears from coming.
"you're getting my shirt wet."
"........................" the younger bit back his usually vicious retort. "i'll get you another shirt. now shut up."
