The forgotten heir

The wind howled through the empty cemetery, rustling the dry leaves that littered the stone path. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale glow on two gravestones that stood side by side. Before them stood a man, tall and silent, his broad shoulders hunched forward, weighed down by the grief that hadn't left him in four long years.

His name was Jesse Cole.

Dressed in a dark coat, he stood unmoving, staring at the names etched into the cold marble:

George Cole

Margaret Cole

"Four years," Jesse murmured, voice barely a whisper. "And it still hurts like it was yesterday."

He knelt, brushing his fingers across the moss-covered names. His eyes stung, not from the wind, but from the memory. They had died in a fire-an explosion that no one could explain. One moment, they were laughing over dinner; the next, gone.

"I miss you both. Every damn day," he whispered.

He closed his eyes, letting the silence wrap around him like a blanket. Images flashed in his mind-his mother's soft laughter, his father's proud eyes as he learned to ride a bike, the warmth of their home. But the happiest memories were always followed by the last thing they said to him.

"Work on yourself," his father had told him. "Learn medicine, study hard. And never stop training."

His mother had cupped his face and said, "Promise me, Jesse. No matter what, don't show your true self. Hide it. Even from those you trust."

"Why?" he had asked.

They had only smiled. "One day, you'll understand."

Now, years later, standing in the cold night, he still didn't.

"I kept my promise," Jesse said, rising to his feet. "I studied. I trained. I learned to heal and I learned to fight. But I don't know why. I don't know what I'm meant to do."

He sighed, turned, and started to walk away. His boots crunched over gravel as he made his way down the hill, heading toward the cemetery gate.

Then he heard it.

A scream-sharp and panicked-echoed through the night. A woman's voice.

"Help! Somebody, please!"

Jesse froze. He turned toward the sound, his instincts already kicking in. He broke into a run, moving fast through the trees, heart pounding. The cries grew louder, and soon, he found the source.

In a clearing by the fence, a young woman was surrounded by four men. One of them had a knife. She had tears running down her cheeks, clutching her bag tightly.

"Back off!" Jesse shouted.

The men turned to face him, surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Who the hell are you?" the man with the knife growled.

"Just someone passing by," Jesse said, walking closer. "Let her go. You don't want to do this."

One of them laughed. "And what are you gonna do if we don't?"

"I'll give you a chance to walk away."

They didn't take it. Instead, the man closest to the girl lunged at Jesse. That was a mistake.

With a swift movement, Jesse sidestepped and struck him in the stomach. The man collapsed, groaning in pain. Another came forward, swinging a pipe. Jesse ducked, countered with a powerful roundhouse kick, and sent the second attacker flying into a tree.

"Run!" Jesse shouted at the woman. She didn't hesitate. She took off, disappearing into the night.

Now only two men were left, both hesitating.

"Still want to try your luck?" Jesse asked, panting slightly.

They exchanged a look. One reached into his coat and pulled out a gun.

Jesse's eyes widened. "Don't-"

The shots rang out. One. Two. Three.

Jesse stumbled back. He felt the impact. His breath hitched.

But... there was no pain.

He looked down.

The bullets had hit him-but they didn't go in. They clattered to the ground, dented and useless. His shirt was torn, but his skin was untouched.

"What the-" one of the men whispered.

Then something inside Jesse shifted.

A strange heat surged through his body. He clenched his fists. His breathing changed. His vision blurred for a second, then cleared, and when it did-his eyes glowed.

Faint at first, then bright.

Blue. Electric. Alive.

The men backed away in fear.

"What the hell is this?!"

Jesse's body began to spark. Tiny bolts of lightning danced across his skin, growing stronger with each second. His heart pounded like a drum. His veins pulsed with power he had never felt before. It was like something deep inside him had broken free.

The men screamed and tried to run.

Too late.

A wave of energy burst from Jesse's chest. The air cracked with thunder. Lightning shot out in every direction, striking the men. They didn't even have time to scream.

In seconds, they were gone. Ashes. Nothing left but smoke and silence.

Then it all stopped.

Jesse collapsed to the ground, gasping. His body trembled. His eyes returned to normal. The glow faded. The night was still again.

Darkness took him.

-

He woke with a jolt.

His back hurt. His head throbbed. He was lying in the grass, damp with morning dew. The sky above was turning gray with the early signs of dawn.

Jesse sat up slowly, rubbing his temple. "What... happened?"

He looked around. The clearing was empty. No signs of a fight. No bodies. Just him.

The last thing he remembered was talking to his parents' graves.

"Was it a dream?" he asked himself.

His hand reached into his coat pocket and found his phone. It was vibrating. The screen was lit up with notifications.

Ten missed calls.

All from Rachel-his wife.

His heart skipped. He quickly dialed her back.

She picked up immediately.

"Jesse! Where the hell have you been?!" she yelled, voice breaking.

"I-I'm sorry. I was-"

"There's no time!" she cried. "Come to the hospital. Now. It's an emergency!"

He froze. "What happened?"

"It's grandmother," she said. "She collapsed. She's not breathing right. Just come!"

The line went dead.

Jesse stared at the screen, the words hitting him like a punch to the chest.

He shoved the phone into his pocket and started running.

And as he ran through the rising morning mist, one thought kept repeating in his mind:

This is just the beginning.