Trickster of the Butterfly

Chapter 25- Cursed and Blessed

February...

It's been a month since the incident at the San Andres Sports Complex...

Michael's been wandering as far away as possible from the lives he knew he could hurt. Alone, he walked ever continuously north, keeping a low profile and fending for himself. He never stayed in the one place for long. His packed supplies of all sorts of biscuits, cookies, health bars, along with clothes, toothbrush, and soap kept him on for the journey. He also had a thousand peso budget for proper meals.

He intended to be independent. Asking help from people was an option, but he refrianed from doing so since every once in a while, light tentacles would emerge from him and thrash around uncontrollably. One time, on his way to ask for directions to a bus station from a police station, a light tendril shot from him and smacked a motorcycle and sent it flying and crashing right through the station's entrance. He stopped time and got away before he got arrested.

It took a ton of concentration for him to make the light die down. It was always unpredictable when his powers would act up and wreck everything around him. He also never seemed to passed out anymore after each episode of mayhem. Whatever the black-masked man did to mess with his powers was a curse to his every waking moment and a curse to everybody around him, all the more reason for him to stay isolated.

February 13, 11:20pm, Quezon City

"Hoy! Bumalik ka dito!" a sidewalk crsipy chicken skin vendor shouted to Michael who was running away. He did not sound very happy after a light tentacle swatted his cart away along with a gallon's worth of chicken skin. Michael just wanted to buy one cup. "Bayaran mo tong sinira mo! Pulis! Pulis!"

Michael crossed the road in a rush to get away, almost getting run over by passing cars.

Once he reached the other side, he looked behind him and saw two policmen beside the vendor. They were already in pursuit, just waiting for the traffic light to turn red so they could cross.

Michael resumed running. He turned a block and saw a dark alley just down the street. He figured he could hide there till the police passed.

"Hoy! Tumigil ka!" the police were already behind him.

He ran as fast as he could but the police were too quick and he knew he couldn't outrun them since he hasn't slept well nor eaten a decent meal for the last 12 hours and he felt dreadfully weak.

With whatever strength he had left, he snapped his fingers to freeze the street. Thankfully, it worked.

He made a break for the dark alley. Panting and gasping as he got there, he unfroze time.

He peeked behind the corner as the police were dumbfounded at the disappearance of their fugitive. They just gave up and walked away.

Michale sighed in relief. He went out of the dark alley, pulled his jacket's hood over his head, and walked a little farther away.

In a dark part of the street, Michael sat on the floor with his back leaning on some park's wall. He was hungry and had only two packs of Oreos and P30 left. Travelling hundreds of kilometers on foot made him greatly exhausted, not to mention smelly. He hasn't bathed in weeks. People avoided him as they passed by. A hooded 17-year old in the middle of the sidewalk in a black jacket who smelled bad would make anyone frightened.

An idea popped up in Michael's head. If summoning weapons from the past was possible, what about food?

Shakily, Michael looked at his hand and concentrated. He imagined something with meat and the greasy aroma of a Mcdonald's cheeseburger. At this point, he'd be willing to eat anything he could pull. A hard French baguette, a chunk of adobo meat, a handful of caldereta sauce smothered potato, his thoughts flooded with food.