His Greatest Battle

When he said his true arch nemesis was the Invisible Killer, people thought it was some light-bending supervillain, never seen because due to the cunning use of his powers. For years, the hero would talk about his battles with the Invisible Killer, the way his nemesis would strike when he felt he was on top of the world, would cripple him without the hero ever sensing the attack was coming. The hero would talk about how the Invisible Killer could find him any time, any place. The Invisible Killer knew all his weaknesses, all his flaws. The Invisible Killer existed only to break him. The Invisible Killer existed to utterly destroy him in mind, body, and spirit. Every day, he said, he woke wondering if that would be the day the Invisible Killer finally caught him wholly unprepared and brought him low for the last time.

“What can we do to help?” the people of the city asked.

“When you see me,” he said, “tell me that I’m needed, that I’m doing good, that the world is better with me in it. Remind me that the Invisible Killer is a deceiver who lies with half-truths, turning unfortunate accidents into complete catastrophes, framing me for every crime he can.”

The people of the city were fearful. If so great a villain existed out there, one so terrible that the greatest hero they had ever known feared him every moment of every day, what hope did they have? He tried to reassure them that they were safe. That it wanted him and him alone. Some were placated. Others were not the least bit relieved. A villain so devious surely wouldn’t stop after overcoming his only obstacle. No doubt his reign of terror would only spread should the hero lose, not vanish. A jaded, cynical few thought that there was no Invisible Killer. There were no reports of their battles, and from the way the hero described them, they were epic knock-down-drag-out fights until the hero couldn’t move at all. It’s just an act for attention, the cynics and naysayers would remark glibly on internet forums. And what was up with that request for help? What a glory hound!

For years, the hero battled the Invisible Killer until one day, he lost. He was found hanging by the neck in a room locked from the inside, a note tucked inside his spandex mask.

“I am too weak,” the note said. “He saw beneath my mask and knew all along. I am too weak and powerless and slow to save anyone. I am too weak to even save myself. The Invisible Killer has defeated me at last.”

Police put out a manhunt for the Invisible Killer but he was never found. The cynics called it a stunt, a suicide to make the hero out to be a martyr. After all, what villain would give his nemesis the time to write a note before killing him? Plus, there were no signs of struggle. Just another ploy in the hero’s lifelong need for attention. Only a few recognized the Invisible Killer for what he was. They told the world in blogs and murals, but no one believed them. After all, he was the hero, beloved by millions, the savior of countless lives, he who had the sort of power everyone longed for. He was the envy of people everywhere. What did he possibly have to be depressed about?

- Originally mailed to J.S. in Washington