Kapitel 7: First Fight and Realisation
Chapter 5: First Fight and Realization
The night clung to New York City like a heavy shroud, the hum of distant traffic muffled by the labyrinth of alleyways snaking between old brick buildings. James Carter walked briskly, his breath misting in the cool autumn air. His head was still spinning from the earlier conversation with Marcus and Rebecca.
Chosen—that word wouldn't leave him alone. Rebecca's investigation had only raised more questions than answers, even though she had no idea how much it all meant to him. The statues... they didn't just stand there. They chose people. But why him? What made him worthy? James hadn't asked for any of this. One minute he was fixing phones, the next, lightning was shooting out of his hands. None of it made sense, and the more he thought about it, the crazier it all seemed.
"Maybe I'm just imagining all this," he muttered to himself, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Maybe it's just a weird dream." But it was real. He could feel it in his bones, the way an invisible thread of energy now thrummed beneath his skin.
Marcus had left for a friend's house, and Rebecca returned to her apartment, leaving James alone with his thoughts as he took his usual shortcut home—a narrow alley near the tech store.
The city seemed quieter than usual, as if the night itself was holding its breath. Neon signs buzzed faintly above, casting fragmented reflections across the wet pavement.
James turned into the alley, the tight space narrowing as the walls seemed to press closer. This was always his route home—a shortcut he had taken a hundred times before. But tonight, something felt off. The air was… heavier, almost electric. His skin tingled, and a shiver ran down his spine as if the darkness around him wasn't just empty space. It was alive.
His steps faltered. A deep, unsettling instinct told him to turn back. Then, from the depths of the alley, something shifted—a ripple in the shadows. Dark shapes began to slither forward, fluid and predatory, like creatures formed from smoke. Their glowing eyes locked onto him, burning with unnatural hunger.
"James Carter…" a voice hissed, reverberating through the alley walls. It wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made James's heart skip a beat. "We've come for the power you carry."
James froze, his breath hitching as the creatures emerged from the shadows, their twisted, smoky forms slithering and shifting like nightmares made real. His brain struggled to process what he was seeing—this couldn't be real. Monsters? In New York? He rubbed his eyes as if that would somehow change the grotesque figures staring him down, but they were still there. And they were moving.
"What the hell...?" he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. His heart pounded in his chest, thudding in his ears like a drumbeat. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this was all some crazy hallucination. But the cold, electric tension in the air told him otherwise.
Then one of the creatures repeated, "James Carter... we've come for the power you now possess."
James's stomach flipped. They knew his name. They knew about his powers. How? Who—or what—were they? He took a step back, panic starting to bubble in his chest. This wasn't just random weirdness—these things were here for him. And they weren't exactly handing out cupcakes.
"You… you've got the wrong guy," James stammered, his voice shaky. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The creatures—twisted, shadowy figures with elongated limbs—moved closer, their claws dragging along the brick walls with an eerie scraping sound. He took a step back, his mind racing. They didn't seem entirely solid, shifting between tangible form and vapor. But their presence was unmistakably real.
A chill ran down his spine. This was really happening. They weren't here to talk—they were hunting him.
His breath hitched, and cold fear clutched at his chest.
"What the hell even are you?" James asked, his voice cracking slightly.
The creatures advanced without answering, their movements fluid and serpentine, as if they belonged to the darkness itself.
One lunged.
James barely had time to react. He stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding the swipe of a clawed hand. Instinct took over, and before he could think, he shouted the only word that mattered.
"SHAZAM!"
A crack of thunder split the night sky, and lightning erupted from the heavens, striking him with the force of a thousand storms. The alley exploded with blinding light, and when the brilliance faded, James stood transformed. His hoodie and jeans had been replaced by a red suit that gleamed like molten fire, a white lightning bolt emblazoned across his chest. His body felt weightless, brimming with uncontainable energy. He flexed his hands, marveling at the strength now coursing through him.
"I'll never get used to this," he muttered, half in awe, half in disbelief. But there was no time to linger on the thought—the creatures were still there, coiling like snakes preparing to strike.
With a grin that masked his nerves, he rolled his shoulders. "Alright," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Let's see what you've got."
The first Fury lunged again, and this time, James was ready. He ducked under the swipe and threw a punch with everything he had. His fist collided with the creature's face, and to his amazement, it felt like punching through thick smoke—there was resistance, but it wasn't solid. The Fury reeled back with a snarl, tendrils of shadow peeling off its form.
The second creature rushed in, claws slashing through the air. James pivoted, dodging it with surprising ease. It felt like his body moved before his mind could register what was happening—a reflex born from the power surging through him. He countered with an uppercut, sending the creature flying into a dumpster with a deafening clang.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself, adrenaline surging. But the Furies were far from finished. They regrouped, circling him with newfound aggression. One of them hissed, "You are not ready for this power, James Carter."
"Yeah, well," he shot back, breathless, "I guess I'll just have to learn on the job."
With newfound strength, he swung his fists with reckless abandon. He managed to knock one of the Furies back, but his lack of experience became painfully obvious as he fumbled through the fight. He swung wildly, sometimes missing his targets completely, and when he landed a blow, it was as much luck as skill.
"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, trying to sound braver than he felt, but inside, he was a whirlwind of confusion and excitement. The Furies were relentless, darting in and out, and every time he thought he had them cornered, they slipped away like shadows.
They attacked all at once. Claws slashed through the air, and James barely managed to fend them off. He swung wildly, his fists crackling with bursts of magical energy, but the creatures were fast—too fast. Every time he thought he had one pinned, it slipped through his grasp like water through his fingers.
Frustration bubbled up inside him. "Come on!" he shouted, swinging another punch. This time, he connected with a blast of energy, sending one of the Furies crashing into the alley wall. The impact sent cracks spidering through the bricks, and the creature disintegrated into a cloud of black mist.
The other two Furies hesitated, their glowing eyes flickering with uncertainty. James seized the moment. Channeling every ounce of power within him, he focused on his hands. Lightning sparked between his fingers, growing stronger with each second.
"Time to end this," he whispered, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
With a thunderous roar, he unleashed a bolt of energy. The alley lit up with brilliant white light as the remaining Furies were consumed by the blast. They screeched, their forms dissolving into thin air, leaving behind nothing but silence.
James stood there, chest heaving, heart pounding in his ears. The alley was eerily quiet once more, the only sound the distant hum of traffic. He glanced down at his hands, the remnants of electricity still dancing across his fingertips.
"I did it," he whispered, disbelief and excitement warring within him.
But as the adrenaline ebbed, a new emotion took its place—realization. This wasn't just some thrilling new adventure. The creatures had come for him, and they hadn't been playing around. If he hadn't transformed in time…
He exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment settling in his chest.
"I can't live a normal life anymore," he murmured, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. This power—whatever it was—came with responsibility, and if those creatures were any indication, there were bigger threats out there waiting for him.
He glanced toward the end of the alley, where the neon lights beckoned him home. "I need to figure this out," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "Before I get killed."
With that, James—no, Shazam—turned and began walking home, the thrill of victory already giving way to the daunting task ahead.
This was just the beginning. And the path forward would demand everything he had.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein