The nimbus sparked angrily before Aeslir. A thousand voices, a thousand minds pounded into his head, through his body. They shoved him down into the dirt, his limbs spasming treacherously.
Fury, rage, indignation throbbed through him, fighting the mental claws hooked into him. They dug deeper and all at once he exploded upright with a roar of hostility.
"Enough!" He bellowed. With a mental shrug he swatted away their hold on him. The Nimbus hissed in outrage. They battered against him uselessly. Suddenly it was easy to keep them out.
Aeslir was in awe of himself. No one had ever defied the collective, no one had ever tried. They had always been taught that they were incapable, just a blip in the system, a cog in the proverbial machine. Small, insignificant, powerless, faceless. Well, no longer.
He did not know if it was his physical body, the human emotion that had teased this power to the forefront, or if it had been in him all along. But he was not weak. He would not be at their mercy ever again. His spine straightened, his chin rising in the multifaceted glow of the nimbus. "I am taking them all."
"You will not!"
Triumph stole across his features, they had said you. Without even realizing what they had done, the collective had acknowledged him as an individual. He would never let them forget it.
"Red-blue-green fourth iridian wavelength function does not have permission to take the New York Collective-"
"I-" he screamed into the portal, "am not asking permission." His heart raced as adrenaline swept through him. My name is Aeslir," he declared.
Bolts of lightning arced from the nimbus but he was too fast for them. He charged the portal, wrapping his hardened hands about the crackling nimbus of light. Though they burned, though they blistered, he did not let go. Shoving his own mind outward, he sent a sharp, mental flay, whipping through the portal. He had no idea how he did it, only that he could. That the anger, the need for revenge gave him power, gave him strength.
A thousand voices screamed and the nimbus began to shrink. By sheer force of will he held it open. "We are so much more than you can imagine. We are no longer the Collective. We are the Bloodbound!" He panted as his ears began to bleed and his arms began to shake. "I am taking New York." He gritted his teeth as the nimbus grew smaller, "This is just the beginning."
"WE ARE THE MANY!"
"Then come down and stop me," he hissed. "Because I will not stop. New York is just the beginning." With a gasp he wrenched his hands back and the nimbus shattered. "Earth is mine."
YOU ARE READING
Bad Blood
Paranormal[Open Novella Contest 2021 Shortlist] It started with the northern lights. In the winter of 2022 physicist Aeslir Bekke disappears from the tiny village of Ny-Alesund. Twelve years later he's found wandering naked in the snow, the veins in his arms...
