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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Trash_Tia on 2024-11-15 22:42:36+00:00.

My name is Millie, and I am 20 (Almost 21) years old.

I need help from someone not in this psycho town.

Not many kids can say they have a superhero for a father.

My Dad was an amazing man. He was the coolest person in the world.

Known as our town’s superhero, I guess you could liken him to one.

Dad doesn’t wear a cape and I’m pretty sure he can’t fly.

But he does use his newfound abilities for good, bringing down every psychopath who tries to play supervillain.

We are pretty small, impossible to find on a map, or even a Google search.

Dad has been protecting us way before I was even born.

Nobody knows how he and a number of others acquired their abilities.

There were rumors of a chemical explosion in the powerplant 17 years ago.

Some people even believe my Dad is from a different planet, while others are convinced he is part of natural human evolution.

All wrong, and a lot more easily explained.

Why don’t the rest of the world know about our town?

My best answer would be because you can’t.

On the outskirts of town, a mental barrier exists. It is invisible, only affecting you when you leave. I’ve only experienced it twice, and both times were horrific.

It’s like having your mind picked apart.

Like drowning inside your own skull, every part of you bleeding away until you are nothing, a soulless, mindless shell sitting on the side of the road with barf staining your shirt.

Every memory of this town and its inhabitants is torn from us.

Last time, I remembered nothing but my name.

It didn’t take Dad long to find me.

Last year, a popular Twitch streamer managed to sneak inside.

But, just like the mental barrier, everything that happens in this town stays.

He was pretty pissed when his stream failed to go live. The guy forgot our existence as soon as he stepped out of town.

Do you know the Sims 2 game on Nintendo DS?

I never played it, though I did watch walkthroughs on YouTube.

We are kind of like Strangeville. Minus the aliens.

Anyway, the reason why I’m writing this will come clear. I don’t have long, and I’m sorry for over description, I want to get everything down as clearly as I can.

I want to tell you about my father.

Star-man.

He’s just like a real superhero.

When I was seven years old, my father single-handedly stopped The Cerebral Drainer, a psychopath who took the lives of ten innocent people in the town square.

I remember watching an episode of Spongebob, and the TV switched to shaky camera footage of the bloodbath downtown. Dad saved a child live on local TV. He told the panicking crowd everything is going to be okay.

They believed him.

I believed him, watching through my fingers as he tackled The Cerebral Drainer to the ground.

I admit, I was scared of him at first.

Human beings aren’t supposed to have freakish glowing eyes with the ability to rip through human flesh.

Laser eyes are fictional, but this is the closest I’ve seen to the real thing.

Dad explained it to me in detail, but I still can’t get my head around it.

The mutation is most prevalent in the eyes, and acts kind of like a geyser…but with energy. Or something like that.

When I was twelve, Dad took down Rat Face, a homeless looking guy who filled the streets with disease ridden rodents.

Rat Face was more pathetic than scary. His beady eyes twitched like living things.

Our town eventually began to trust my father with protecting us.

In exchange, we were to protect his secret from the rest of the world.

Dad was known as the best superhero (and father) by day, and family-man and loving husband by night.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the local press to be swarming our door when I got home from school.

Since town kids can’t leave, unless they’re either granted special permission or are the children of ‘villain’s’, the rest of us continue our education until we are 25 years old.

The idea of leaving town and immediately forgetting our identities isn’t exactly appealing.

We call it The Third Senior Years.

First senior Years: 16-17.

Second Senior Years: 17-21.

Third Senior Years: 21-24.

After stepping off the school bus, I was already nauseous and wrestling a pounding in the back of my head, the type of pain Tylenol cannot fix.

The Myers household is fairly small. Just a regular house in suburbia. We even have the white picket fence.

Pushing through a crowd of my Dad’s adoring fans, I made sure to flash my my perfect smile at the cameras.

My phone vibrated, a text popping up on my notifications.

The vultures are at your door lol. Should I release the hounds?

Cam, a first senior boy who lived across the street.

With two adorable and feral chihuahua’s.

I sent back a skull emoji. The last time he set them on fans and press alike, I was unfairly grounded for three days.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I forced my way through the crowd, trying and failing to ignore their stares.

As Star-man’s daughter, I was yet to reveal the mutation I had inherited.

I could tell they were gunning for it, their wide and frenzied eyes raking me up and down like a piece of meat.

Maybe they were expecting me to start shooting flowers out of my ass.

The older I was getting, the less patient the town was. Dad told them in a local press conference that I was just a late bloomer. I almost died of embarrassment. The girls at school ran with it of course, asking me if I was a late bloomer for anything else.

Channel 7 news was waiting for me at our front door, immediately sticking a microphone in my face.

I was told not to talk to the press. Dad made that very clear in his 100 slide PowerPoint presentation detailing every potential fallout scenario if I accidentally said the wrong thing.

But I was tired, my head was pounding, and the camera flashes were making me feel woozy.

Channel 7 news are obsessed with my family.

Almost to the point of it being scary.

The anchorwoman, Heather Carlisle, who was a usual suspect, was already yelling in my face.

I was yet to forgive her after she suggested live on air that I was a little slow. (it was 2am, and I was half asleep.

The neighbors were robbed, and I was dragged out of bed for my close-up. Because of course I was).

I noticed two things, even when I was slightly out of it.

Heather had definitely camped out in our front yard. She was wearing the exact same clothes from yesterday, a slightly creased black dress, and a matching blazer. Heather was also missing a heel. One of them was odd.

I noticed a single rose petal hanging from her fringe.

There was zero reason for this woman to be doing all of this to get ‘inside scoop’ on Myers family business.

“Millie Myers!” I got full-named, after straight up ignoring her and trying to shove past her army of camera guys.

Heather wasn’t playing around. I backed down when she situated herself in front of me with one single heel clack.

“Is it TRUE your father is currently interrogating the SON of the INFAMOUS Six-Eyes?”

I swear a little bit of saliva hit me on the cheek.

Six Eyes was the opposite of my father.

Dad strived to protect our town and everyone in it. Six Eyes, who was locally famous for the mutation that came with his ability, sought to destroy it. If Dad could be compared to a superhero, Six Eyes is more of a villain.

The proportions of his face are all messed up. I’ve only met him once, and Dad made me wear eye protection.

It only takes one single glance at this guy, and he’s got you.

Obviously, it’s not like the movies. Six Eyes can’t make mindless armies.

But he can greatly influence town leadership, slipping into the Mayor’s office with nobody batting an eye.

The problem was, if Six Eyes covers up his mutation, he looks like your average guy which puts him perfectly under the radar.

Nobody suspected the community college professor Marcus Caine to be a psychopathic maniac with the ability to contort the human brain.

Dad did manage to apprehend him, only for Six Eyes to break out of prison two weeks later.

His twenty year old son, Cartwright, wanted nothing to do with him, intentionally leaving town and stepping over the barrier to forget the town (and his father) ever existed.

I’m not fully sure how the mind wipe works, but I do know that spending too much time away from town causes physical symptoms.

I think Cartwright is drawn back every two to three months to avoid suffering an aneurysm. He had even legally changed his name to get as far away from his psycho father as possible.

The boy was only in town for a few weeks on vacation from college.

However, over the last few days, my father had reasons to believe Six-Eyes was in contact with his estranged son.

I twisted around, maintaining a wide smile. “No comment.” I told the cameras.

The anchorwoman nodded slowly, thrusting her microphone further into my face. I had to hold back a sneeze.

“But your father is interrogating him now, correct? Millie, can you tell us what… techniques he is using?”

She was trying to get me to spill or trip over what I was saying so my words could be taken out of context.

Dad didn’t get mad easily, but his smile did start to slightly falter when I told Channel 7 our family’s business.

Shutting the press down, I shook my head, making sure to stretch my lips into a big, cheesy grin. Just like my Dad told me. I cleared my throat.

“Rest assured, Cartwright is in good hands. I can prom…

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