Watching The Umbrella Academy (and enjoying the heck out of it) reminded me of a short story that I once wrote on superheroes. Hope it’s halfway decent. x
Stolen from their cots in the winter of 1989, five involuntary orphans grew up knowing neither their parents nor of the world outside. Instead, they were raised by nameless Guardians in the mansion that had everything they needed. Or so they had believed.
It was true that the kids had food, warmth, shelter, and Guardians who were kind to them. They even had the occasional luxury of Sinatra records, which arrived at their doorsteps in unmarked parcels. Still, they grew up lonely in the company of each other.
None of them were close; they weren’t allowed to be. The Guardians kept them apart with rumours and half truths that made them wary. They had distinctive daily schedules too, replete with studies on more languages that they needed, complex mathematics, scientific explorations, and above all, their inborn capabilities.