Eclipsed Virtues: Tales of the Damned Superhuman

By S.B. Fates

Dive into a realm where superpowers reign supreme but come at a dire cost in S.B. Fates' enthralling anthology, "Eclipsed Virtues: Tales of the Damned Superhuman." This collection of dark fantasy stories explores the blurred lines between heroism and villainy, unearthing the chilling consequences of superhuman capabilities.

 

1. "Shadowed Justice" reveals the Night Whisperer, a vigilante with a haunting ability to trap souls in an eternal torment, finding pleasure in their endless screams.
2. "The Haunting of Hero's Hill" uncovers an invisible force preying on superheroes, stripping them of their powers and memories, leaving nothing but an empty shell.
3. "Crimson Savior" delves into the life of Lumina, a beloved hero with a dark secret: her healing powers require a terrible sacrifice.
4. "Voices in the Static" explores the mind of Resonance, a telepath who hears whispers from beyond, pushing him towards atrocities in exchange for power.
5. "Eyes of the Abyss" follows Gaze, a hero tormented by visions of his own descent into madness, questioning if his foresight is a gift or a curse.
6. "The Parasite Paradox" deals with a hero who absorbs others' powers and, with them, their darkest desires, leading to a chaotic and terrifying identity crisis.
7. "Frozen in Fear" presents a time-stopping heroine trapped in a loop of witnessing horrific murders, questioning her reality and her role in these events.
8. "Pandora's Mask" tells of a hero seduced by a mask offering immeasurable power, only to find his identity consumed by an ancient malevolent spirit.
9. "Echoes of the Damned" explores a superhuman's ability to raise the dead and the eerie prophecies and pleas for rest that follow.
10. "Infinite Descent" delves into the nightmare of a flyer drawn into the night sky, facing unspeakable horrors and an eternal detachment from earth.

 

"Eclipsed Virtues" delves into the dark side of power, presenting stories filled with psychological horror, moral ambiguity, and tragic heroes. Fates masterfully weaves tales of twisted powers, ethical dilemmas, and chilling narratives, reminding us that our greatest enemies might just be the powers that dwell within. Step into a world of supernatural abilities and unraveling madness, and discover the thin line between savior and damned.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sean Benoit
• Release date: Oct 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223854791

S.B. Fates

Sean Benoit, writing under the pen name S.B. Fates, is a masterful author specializing in the realm of dark fiction. His unique literary style seamlessly weaves together elements of horror, supernatural fiction, suspense, crime, science fiction, and fantasy, creating stories that not only captivate but also challenge the conventional boundaries of these genres. His works are renowned for their complex narratives, richly developed characters, and the ability to transport readers into worlds where the mysterious and the ordinary intertwine. In addition to his literary pursuits, Sean harbors a deep passion for drawing and comic books, engaging in these activities as personal hobbies. This artistic inclination, while separate from his writing, enriches his creative perspective and contributes to the depth and imagination evident in his storytelling. Known as S.B. Fates in the literary world, Sean stands out for his ability to blend a diverse range of elements into his narratives, making him a distinctive voice in the genre of dark fiction. His dedication to exploring and redefining the limits of genre fiction has cemented his status as a notable author in his field.

Book preview

Prelude by S.B. Fates

In my countless years of studying the arcane and the mundane, I've seen the breathtaking brilliance of those imbued with powers beyond comprehension. I've watched them soar across skies, heal with a touch, and move mountains with sheer will. But amidst these tales of heroism and valor, there exists another narrative, one far darker, often whispered in hushed tones and spoken of in fearful glances.

To have a power, to be truly extraordinary, is both a blessing and a curse. Not all are equipped to shoulder its burden. It's easy to think of superpowers as gifts, to imagine the splendor and the glory, but the reality is rarely so simple. Behind the mask, the cape, the emblem—lies the weight of choices, sacrifices, and the inevitable dance with darkness.

What happens when the very thing that defines you becomes the catalyst for your undoing? What occurs when the lines between right and wrong, good and evil, blur to a point of indistinguishability? These stories, dear reader, seek to explore such questions. They dive deep into the abyss of the superhuman psyche, uncovering tales not of heroic deeds, but of terrifying truths and the monstrous nature of unchecked power.

The world often sees the glimmering façade, the public display of might and justice. But I invite you now to peer behind that curtain, to explore the shadows that every light casts. In these tales, you won't find traditional heroes. Instead, you'll witness the chilling reality of what can happen when powers go astray, when the savior becomes the tormentor, when the protector morphs into the predator.

Prepare yourself, for you're about to venture into the very heart of darkness where even superhumans fear to tread. This is not a journey for the faint of heart. It's a deep dive into the macabre, the unsettling, the very limits of human—and superhuman—sanity.

Read on, if you dare. But remember: these tales are not mere fiction, but warnings. For in each of us lies the potential for both greatness and monstrosity. The line between the two? Often, it's finer than we dare admit.

~ S.B. Fates

Shadowed Justice

The streets of New Orleans held a magic all their own. By day, tourists thronged its pathways, laughing, clicking pictures, and basking in the vibrant culture. By night, however, it transformed. The very air seemed to hum with stories of the past, and every cobblestone whispered secrets of long-gone eras.

Lucia Dupont had always loved the city at night. But tonight was different. The usual comforting hum was overpowered by a piercing cry. It was not audible, but she felt it, deep in her bones, a distress call she couldn’t ignore.

Walking down Bourbon Street, Lucia’s eyes caught a flutter of fabric half-hidden in an alley. As she approached, the object became clearer – it was a superhero costume, torn and discarded, devoid of its wearer.

Immediately, she knelt beside it, her fingers brushing the fabric. The instant she touched it, a rush of emotions flooded her – despair, pain, and an overwhelming anguish that made her gasp. It felt as if the very soul of the hero was crying out to her.

Pulling her hand back sharply, Lucia fought to steady her breathing. She had felt many emotions over the years, but nothing quite this intense. This wasn’t just a physical departure; it was a soul being violently torn from the world.

A soft rustling made her look up. Aria Broussard stood a few feet away, her deep-set green eyes full of concern.

You felt it too? Aria asked, her voice as haunting as the winds that whispered through the trees.

Lucia nodded, unable to form words just yet. She watched as Aria approached, her vintage dress making a soft swishing sound against the cobbles.

Aria touched the costume gently. He’s been taken. The spirits confirmed it.

Lucia gulped. By Dominic?

Aria’s eyes clouded over. I saw visions of an abyss, a place of eternal torment. It’s his doing.

Both women stood in silence, contemplating the gravity of the situation. The city had been abuzz with whispers about the Night Whisperer. Rumors had it that he was trapping souls, but until now, Lucia hadn’t come across any tangible evidence.

Mateo Alvarez, seemingly appearing from the shadows, joined them, his tattoos standing out starkly against his skin in the dim light. Another one gone? he asked, voice dripping with dark humor, though his eyes betrayed his concern.

Yes, Aria replied solemnly.

Lucia, still reeling from the empathic onslaught, muttered, We need to stop him.

Mateo chuckled, a deep resonating sound that echoed eerily in the alley. Easier said than done. The man’s a ghost.

But he leaves traces, Aria said, her fingers brushing the discarded costume. And with each soul he takes, the balance shifts.

Lucia took a deep breath, her fierce brown eyes reflecting determination. Then let’s bring the balance back. Dominic may believe he’s the hand of justice, but no one has the right to play with souls.

As the trio made their way out of the alley, the night seemed darker, the path ahead uncertain. But one thing was clear – they were in this together, united in purpose, and they would confront whatever nightmares lay ahead. The haunting streets of New Orleans had seen many tales, and this was just the beginning of another.

The distant hum of New Orleans nightlife faded as Mateo Alvarez stalked the darkened side streets. While the bright lights and jazz melodies of Bourbon Street danced a few blocks away, he was submerged in a different tune—the gritty underbelly of the city.

Gang members, recognizable by their insignias, loitered ahead. They guarded a dim alleyway, where illegal deals were sealed under the veils of shadows. Mateo recognized a few faces; some had been schoolmates, others were known adversaries.

Evening, fellas, Mateo called out, stepping forward with a confident swagger.

The largest of the gang, a hulking brute named Diego, sneered. What do you want, Alvarez?

Just a chat, Mateo replied, the light glinting off his bald head.

Before another word was spoken, darkness engulfed the alley. The streetlights blinked out, plunging the area into an eerie blackness. Panic ensued, voices cursing and shouting, but above all, Mateo's voice cut through, calm and menacing.

You should know better than to mess around on my turf.

A sharp cry echoed, followed by a thud. When the lights flickered back on, Mateo stood in the center, shadows wrapping around him like a protective cloak. The gang members lay sprawled on the ground, some unconscious, others groaning in pain.

Diego, gasping for breath, looked up with fear in his eyes. What do you want?

Mateo crouched down, his face inches from Diego's. Just wanted to remind you who owns these streets.

He stood up and began to walk away when a soft voice called out to him. Mateo.

He turned to find Aria Broussard, her vintage dress juxtaposed against the gritty backdrop. Her green eyes held a melancholy Mateo had come to associate with her premonitions.

Bad time? he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

Aria ignored the jest. I received a message from Daniel. He's... he's gone.

Mateo's playful demeanor evaporated. Daniel? The mind-reader?

Aria nodded, her eyes distant. Before he was taken, he sent me a vision. It's Dominic's next target—a city councilman with the ability to manipulate perceptions.

Mateo frowned. Why him?

Aria whispered, Because he's been manipulating votes, coercing decisions in his favor. He's abusing his power.

Mateo ran a hand over his head, absorbing the information. We need to warn him.

Aria's gaze settled on the gang members, now regaining their composure. This isn't just about one councilman. It's about the very fabric of our city. If Dominic continues, we won't recognize New Orleans anymore.

Mateo nodded, determination burning in his eyes. Then let's get to it.

Together, the duo stepped into the night, a fusion of shadows and premonitions, ready to confront the abyss that threatened to swallow their beloved city.

The air was thick with the aroma of gardenias, that distinctly New Orleans scent. But this memory smelled of fire and blood. The grand Rousseau mansion stood proud in the Garden District, reflecting an opulence only old money could buy. Inside, the grand ballroom was alive with laughter, chandeliers glittering above a masquerade ball. Dominique Rousseau, as he was known then, stood by the French doors, his striking blue eyes scanning the crowd, looking for her.

She appeared like a dream from the crowd—Celeste, a beauty with flowing auburn locks and a laugh that would put songbirds to shame. Dominic's heart raced every time she looked his way.

Dom! she called out, her voice silvery, wearing a mask adorned with feathers. They danced the night away, lost in each other.

But the beauty of the night was about to be shattered. An uninvited guest, cloaked in darkness, stormed into the ballroom. He was known as The Mirage, a rogue superhero with the ability to create illusions, turning people's fears against them.

The room plunged into chaos as patrons faced their darkest nightmares. The grandeur of the mansion became a hellscape, filled with monstrous visions and shrieking souls. Dominic, through the madness, kept his eyes on Celeste.

But The Mirage had noticed her too. With a malicious grin, he turned Celeste's fear against her, manifesting a vision of the mansion engulfed in flames. Celeste, believing it real, tried to flee, her dress catching on the grand chandelier. In her panicked state, she didn't realize her peril until it was too late. The weight of the chandelier pulled her down, the crash echoing a finality that stopped the heartbeats of all who witnessed.

The illusions vanished. The mansion, once a symbol of the city's grandeur, was now a sepulchral tomb. Dominic cradled Celeste in his arms, her lifeless eyes mirroring the shattered crystal around them.

His grief was immeasurable. From the depths of his anguish, a power unlike any other awakened within him. Shadows whirled around Dominic, an abyss forming beneath him, a void of darkness and screams. The Mirage, sensing the danger, attempted to flee, but the abyss was insatiable. With a deafening roar, Dominic unleashed his newfound power. The Mirage, trapped in a vortex of shadows, was sucked into the abyss, his screams joining the cacophony of tormented souls.

The guests, having witnessed the birth of the Night Whisperer, fled in terror, leaving Dominic alone with his grief and rage. He would become the shadowed judge, jury, and executioner to those who misused their powers, ensuring that they would face an eternity of torment in his abyss.

In the present, Lucia's empathic abilities rippled. She felt the weight of Dominic's pain and the souls he had trapped. Each one a story of heartbreak, betrayal, or corruption. She understood, more than anyone, the dichotomy of his actions—the line between justice and vengeance.

Lucia turned to Mateo, who was visibly shaken by the intensity of Dominic's memories. It's never just black and white, is it?

Mateo's voice trembled. No, it's not. But what he's doing... it's not right.

Lucia's gaze hardened. No, it's not. But we need to understand him if we're going to stop him.

Aria, standing a few steps away, whispered, The past shapes us, but it's the choices we make that define us. Dominic chose vengeance.

The trio, bound by their shared mission, continued deeper into the heart of New Orleans, driven by a desire to confront, and hopefully redeem, the darkness that had consumed one of their own.

The evening was setting in, and the French Quarter was alive with its usual eclectic vibrancy: jazz musicians, tarot readers, and revellers, all of them caught in the unique spell of New Orleans. Lucia had chosen the courtyard of the Vieux Carré Bistro for their meeting. The secluded spot, with its old-world charm and tables hidden amongst the lush foliage, was a perfect respite from the bustle outside.

Aria arrived first, her vintage dress whispering tales as it rustled against the brick floor. The soft candlelight gave her deep-set green eyes an otherworldly glow. She looked up as Lucia approached, and there was an unspoken understanding between them. Lucia’s power had allowed her to feel the weight of the sorrow in Aria’s heart.

Lucia, Aria greeted, her voice like a soft refrain of an old song. I had a vision this morning. A shroud of darkness covers the city, but there’s also a flicker of hope.

Mateo strode in, his tattoos contrasting with the ambiance of the bistro. Ladies, he said, grinning, his loud voice cutting through their somber mood. What’s the plan?

Lucia sighed. We have to stop Dominic. The torment he's causing... it's not justice, it's an abyss of vengeance.

Yeah, but the guy is practically a legend. And, frankly, some of those heroes had it coming, Mateo retorted, leaning back in his chair. But his casual demeanor hid the rage he felt at the thought of Dominic's actions.

Aria leaned forward. Dominic’s pain resonates with many. I've seen glimpses of the future, Mateo. If we don’t stop him, the entire city will be consumed by his abyss.

Lucia’s fierce eyes met Mateo’s. We need to unite, Mateo. It’s not just about stopping Dominic. It’s about saving him too.

Mateo snorted. Why should we?

Lucia hesitated before answering, her voice barely above a whisper, Because once, he saved me.

Aria and Mateo turned to her, surprise evident in their eyes.

It was years ago, Lucia began. A group of rogue heroes cornered me, wanting to exploit my abilities. Dominic... or rather, Night Whisperer, came out of nowhere. He saved me but let them go, warning them to never cross paths with him again.

Aria looked at Lucia with newfound respect. That’s why you feel this connection with him.

Lucia nodded, Yes, and that’s why we need to save him from himself. The abyss he's created, it's consuming him too.

Mateo sighed deeply. Alright, if we’re doing this, we need a plan. And maybe a drink or two.

Aria smirked, I can help with the plan. As for the drink, Mateo, you’re on your own.

As they began discussing their strategy, a silent pact was formed between the three. The weight of their mission was enormous, but together, they felt an ember of hope ignite. They were the last line of defense against the ever-encroaching darkness. The city’s fate rested in their hands, and they were determined to rise to the challenge.

The scent of incense permeated Aria's apartment, mixing with the old must of books and forgotten histories. Surrounded by worn tomes and vintage records, the room seemed like a portal to another era. In the center, a large wooden table was strewn with an assortment of candles, crystals, and other occult items.

Lucia and Mateo watched as Aria began her ritual. She delicately placed a silver locket, an item from her past, in the center of the table. This belonged to my grandmother, she whispered, her fingers gently tracing the intricate patterns etched onto it. It's said to have been enchanted by the spirits of old New Orleans.

Closing her eyes, Aria started to chant in a language that sounded ancient and otherworldly. Lucia could feel the energy in the room shifting, becoming dense, while Mateo shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the dim room. The shadows seemed to dance, stretching and contracting as if they had a mind of their own.

Gradually, translucent figures began to emerge, swirling around Aria like wisps of smoke. Some were familiar, echoes of people they'd once known, while others were indistinguishable, mere impressions of the past.

Aria's voice grew stronger as she continued her chant. Spirits of the past, bearers of lost tales, come forth and share your knowledge. We seek guidance in these troubled times.

Lucia noticed one spirit, in particular, moving closer to Aria. He appeared to be a man in his forties, dressed in an old police uniform, complete with a tarnished badge. His face was etched with lines of sadness and regret.

I was one of Dominic's victims, the spirit said, his voice echoing as if from a great distance. But I wasn't always on the side of justice.

Mateo leaned forward, intrigue evident in his eyes. Who are you?

The spirit sighed. My name is Officer Roland. I was a cop in this city for over two decades. But I got involved with the wrong crowd, started taking bribes, and soon found myself lost in the corruption.

Lucia's empathic abilities allowed her to feel the heavy burden of guilt that weighed on the spirit. You're here to help us?

Roland nodded. I wish to atone for my sins. I can tell you about Dominic's plans, about the others he intends to trap.

Aria, still in her trance, spoke, Tell us everything.

The spirit hesitated for a moment, then began. Dominic, the Night Whisperer, seeks those who have betrayed their oaths, heroes and villains alike. I've seen them, trapped souls, screaming in agony, unable to find peace.

Mateo clenched his fists. Do you know who his next target is?

Officer Roland's eyes took on a far-off look. He's going after a hero named 'Specter.' She's been on the wrong side of the law for a while now, delving into dark arts and forbidden magics. Dominic believes she poses a great threat to the city.

Lucia exchanged a glance with Mateo. We need to warn Specter. Even if she's gone rogue, no one deserves Dominic's fate.

Aria's voice was strained as she broke her connection with the spirits. Thank you, Roland. May you find peace.

As the spirits dissipated, the room returned to its usual stillness. Mateo let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. This just got a lot more complicated.

Lucia nodded, determination evident in her eyes. But we have a lead now. We need to find Specter before Dominic does.

Aria, still recovering from the ritual, managed a weak smile. The spirits have given us a chance. We won't waste it.

The sky outside was an overcast gray, casting a somber light over the city. The echoes of jazz from a nearby club felt distant, as if muffled by a thick curtain. Lucia stood by the window, the sounds of the city around her, the horn of a far-off ship, the murmur of conversations from the street below.

She took a deep breath, attempting to center herself. But the more she tried, the more the emotions of the city pressed on her mind – the pain, the fear, the sorrow. Each emotion was a tangible weight, making it difficult for her to distinguish her own feelings from the collective anguish of New Orleans.

A sudden surge of anger, unrelated to anything she was currently feeling, rose within her, and she slammed her palm against the window pane. Why is this happening to me? she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

You okay? Mateo's voice broke through her turbulent thoughts. He'd approached silently, concern evident in his eyes.

Lucia's gaze remained on the cityscape, her jaw tight. It's getting harder, Mateo. All these emotions, all these thoughts... they're drowning me.

Mateo hesitated, then reached out to gently squeeze her shoulder. We'll figure this out. Maybe Aria knows something that can help.

She shook her head, the weight of her burden making her feel as though she were sinking. It's not that simple. Every time I touch someone, I feel everything. Their happiness, their regrets, their darkest secrets. It's... it's overwhelming.

Mateo's brow furrowed in thought. Has it always been like this?

Lucia's laugh was humorless. It started off as just a nudge, a hint of someone's mood. But now? Now it's a tidal wave. And Dominic... Every time I think of him, of what he's doing, I can't help but feel the terror of those souls he's trapped.

The room was silent for a moment, save for the gentle hum of the city. You think it's connected? Mateo finally asked.

I don't know. Maybe, Lucia admitted. She looked up into Mateo's eyes, her own filled with desperation. But if it is, and we stop Dominic, will it end? Or am I doomed to feel like this forever?

Mateo, usually the one to crack a joke or lighten the mood, found himself at a loss for words. He took Lucia's hand, trying to lend her some of his strength. I don't have the answers, Lucia. But what I do know is that we won't let you face this alone. We're in this together.

Lucia gave a weary smile, momentarily comforted by his words. Thank you, Mateo. Just... give me a moment.

He nodded, giving her hand one final squeeze before leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She closed her eyes, trying once again to shut out the cacophony of emotions. She focused on a single memory, a time when she was young, sitting with her mother on their porch, watching the rain. She held onto that memory, allowing the calmness of the moment to envelop her.

After what felt like hours, Lucia finally felt a semblance of peace, a momentary reprieve from the city's anguish. But she knew it was only temporary, that she'd have to face the darkness within her again.

But for now, she held onto the hope that with the help of her friends, she'd find a way to overcome the storm inside her.

Aria sat in the dimly lit living room, surrounded by the glow of a dozen or so lit candles. The faint aroma of sandalwood and sage lingered in the air. She was lost in thought, holding a worn-out photograph of a young Dominic, seemingly taken years ago. She was trying to reconcile the boy in the photograph with the man who now haunted New Orleans.

Mateo, lounging on a tattered couch, broke the silence. So, let me get this straight. Dominic's idea of a superhero cleanup involves trapping their souls in eternal damnation? Talk about extreme recycling.

Aria glanced up, her green eyes reflecting the dancing flame of the candles. It's not as simple as that, Mateo. For some, the abyss might be the only form of justice. The system has failed too many times.

Mateo chuckled, though the sound lacked any real humor. Sure, everyone's got their sob story, but eternal torment? That's a bit excessive, even for our dark and broody Night Whisperer.

Lucia, having regained some composure, joined them. It's hard to argue with results, though. Crime rates have gone down, especially those committed by supers. But at what cost? She looked troubled, trying to grapple with the swirling emotions she felt about Dominic's actions.

Aria sighed, her fingers still tracing the edges of the photograph. Dominic sees the world in absolutes. Good. Evil. There's no middle ground for him. But the question we need to ask ourselves is: where do we stand?

Mateo stretched his arms, his tattoos glinting in the candlelight. Well, I stand on the side that doesn't get me trapped in eternal darkness. But it does make you think – how many of these heroes deserved it?

Lucia's expression darkened. No one deserves that. Justice should be about rehabilitation, not retribution. What Dominic is doing is no different from the very villains we fight against.

Aria closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The lines are blurred, Lucia. We can't think in black and white. What if one of those heroes hurt someone you loved? Would you still feel the same?

Mateo interjected, his tone lighter, I'd probably give 'em a good punch, but after that, who knows?

Lucia fixed her gaze on Aria. It doesn't change the fact that what he's doing is wrong. We need to stop him.

Aria looked conflicted. I agree, but we need to understand him first. Understand why he's doing this. Only then can we find a way to end this.

The room grew silent once more, each lost in their thoughts, grappling with the gray morality of the situation. The faint sounds of New Orleans continued outside, seemingly oblivious to the profound questions echoing within the room. The trio knew that whatever course they chose, it would define not just their futures but the very soul of the city they loved.

The night had settled in, bringing with it the kind of thick fog New Orleans was known for. It danced and twirled, making the dim streetlights look like distant, soft-glowing orbs.

It was in this mist that a grand old mansion stood, its once-vibrant colors now faded, its splendor lost to