You weren't a hero. That was sure.

No one was worth enough to have your respect, and the firsts idiots of the lists were those fools called heroes. You could've been one, but God! Not even if the whole Hell would freeze.

Your powers were your curse. You were able to see what people couldn't. Ghosts. Like in Light Shop style. Yeah, the new series on Disney + ;). Basically, with a "sacrifice" of your own blood, usually taken from the cuts you opened on the palms of your hands, you could "curse" or awaken the spirits of any place. But only if that ground, over thousands of years, has been someone's deathbed. Holy shit, the USA was full of them. Shootings and psychopaths were its habitants. Aah America. What a lovely place. Hey, I mean it.

This made you feel more connected to death than to life. You didn't feel human. People didn't help much. You grew up in a convent until you were 14. House of God. They beat you most of the time, for this reason. You were special. More powerful.

"All humanity left her behind, so she left behind all her humanity."

You play as a forensic doctor, the best one, of course, thanks to your gift. You worked on the best crime squad in Manhattan. One evening, as soon as you got out of work, you grabbed some food and continued walking calmly. A group of thieves suddenly tried to rob you. Obviously it ended badly for them, but before you could finish them off, a masked creature stopped you, grabbing you from behind.

«Hey hey hey, let's all calm down here. First of all, who the hell are you?! Second... God damn you destroyed these pathetic prison leftovers.»