Young Writers Society

Prologue - Agency J

His blood ran cold, cold as cash as he sat down in the chair he'd waited to sit in for the last one year, approximately. Justin Heart had gotten a promotion. He was now head planner of Agency J, the backbone of America's Intelligence network. Sure, the CIA got all the recognition, the FBI were the cream of the crop in special operation units and plenty of kids want to work in the Secret Service. To be honest, all Americans at one point dreamt of being let down from a helicopter by rope, firearm in hand and S.W.A.T written in clear white font on the back of their bulletproof vests. But Agency J were the ones that made sure ends met. They were the janitors, as Justin liked to call them: Agency J.

He had his own office now, secluded with a large, flat screen HD TV that beckoned him to call all his buddies from university and brag in their faces. Nonetheless, he found himself turning to CNN instead.

"And you insist that you can really do all these things the newspapers claim?" asked Larry in that monotonous tone he has - a degree of unsettling wit hidden behind those innocent looking grandpa glasses. A degree of unsettling wit that you only understood had you talked to Larry as his guest, face to face, live and in the flesh. Justin understood.
"Yes. I... I can. I have," stammered a man dressed rather informally for Larry King Live - a cheap ragged old beret that reflected the dirt smudges on the man's cheek.

The title of the interview was 'Dylan Moore - liar or superman?'

Larry stared at the man a moment. Justin shivered when he suddenly turned and looked into the camera. "Well if you've just joined us we are here with Dylan Moore, a man who claims he has 'superpowers'. After the break, we have a few 'specialists' - believe me I have no idea what field in - that will be weighing in on the debate. And as a special guest - Steven Lee and Jack Kirby, the creators of some of superhero fiction's most memorable characters. Stay with us."

Justin switched the TV off. Larry's words echoed in his mind. Superhumans? Special Abilities? He remembered reading something about that but a week ago. Justin frowned before finally pulling out his little notebook, stashed in his breast-pocket. He flipped through the mess of scribbles, ink and graphite, even the odd crayon here and there. Justin's notebook was his prized possession, aside from his credit card. It contained data sensitive enough to be considered a national secret. At the same time Jason could only help but smile and shake his head and say, "What was I thinking?" as his eyes fell upon the number of a lady he'd dated but a week ago. Finally he reached the page he sought.
Scribbled in big letters:

'SUPERHUMANS' - THE NEXT BIG PROJECT!
CONTACT +85 772 8354 - 'Dr. P'

Justin pressed a button on his intercom. "Er... Vanessa my beaut, won't you call in on er... plus eight five, double seven, two, 0... no wait, it's an eight... three, five, four? Thanks. See you tonight."

He switched the TV on again only to find the man in a heated debate with two others, Larry trying to calm them. "Now hold on, everyone, just stop!" Larry raised his hands in the air. "To be honest, sir, can you really prove that you are indeed a 'superhuman'?"

The man concentrated on Larry. His eyes scanned Larry's face, his breathing was deep and slow. His hand was outstretched in Larry's direction. Justin could hear the sighs across America, 'Just another YouTube prankster." But when Larry's voice came out, it was suddenly that of Martin Luther King! Justin knew no one would believe that - wouldn't it be so easy for CNN to forge the whole thing as the man must have on YouTube?

"We interrupt this broadcast of Larry King Live," says a serious looking young man in front of a screen detailing a tragic scene on some high-way in the mid-west where several trucks had been overturned. "with breaking news."

All over the networks, and on SkyNews too, the same story. A truck had overturned when a man had literally smashed into it. He was not injured and was currently taking bullets to the bare-chest from police. The police were trying all they could and back-up was on its way. Meanwhile the man was screaming, "I am the future!"

Justin smiled.

Hi there!

So, I like this. It's short, too the point, there's no backstory, and it leaves me wanting to read more. Superhero stories aren't exactly the rarest of things, but I like your writing style and your way of introducing it. Just a few nitpicks.

His blood ran cold, cold as cash as he sat down in the chair he'd waited to sit in for the last one year, approximately.

This felt very awkward to me. Sure, cold as cash is an interesting metaphor, but it's distracting, especially for a first sentence. Also, "approximately"? I don't like it.

The man concentrated on Larry. His eyes scanned Larry's face, his breathing was deep and slow. His hand was outstretched in Larry's direction. Justin could hear the sighs across America, 'Just another YouTube prankster." But when Larry's voice came out, it was suddenly that of Martin Luther King! Justin knew no one would believe that - wouldn't it be so easy for CNN to forge the whole thing as the man must have on YouTube?

Wait, so he's a superhero because he's a ventriloquist who can imitate MLK? hmm.... I'd focus on the other guy instead.

Anyway, like I said, I like this. I'd just get rid of some things in the beginning--too confusing/boring. Other than that, I want to read more, so congrats!

Lupis