The Cloak Guard

Danger Warning

Well, that was disappointing, the voice said.

"That wasn't how it was supposed to go," he complained. "They were supposed to pay! I was supposed to show them how weak they really were! But...they just..."

Do not worry. It was a good trial run. Now we know our weak points. Next time it will be better. Besides, we still have one last target.

Yes. The one who he hated most in the world. The one who had pushed him down, abused him, made every day of his life a living hell. That man would finally know what it's like to be afraid.

Yes. Once he's dead, our ascent will begin.

He stopped. "Wait? What? I don't want to kill anyone. I just want-"

Yes, well, I don't really care what you want, the voice said savagely. Suddenly, his hands began moving on their own, something else taking over them. I have bided my time, been patient. But now, at last, my strength has returned. And no longer will I suffer being stuck as nothing more than a voice in your head. Now, my true power will be unleashed. And nothing will hold me back.

For the first time, he felt afraid. When the voice had first arrived, he had thought it was his conscience, a nice, warm voice that helped him survive the day. But then, it became more than that, giving him powers he had only dreamed of, allowing him to finally do things he'd only ever thought of before. It had made him his life something actually worth living for.

He had noticed the sinister edges to it. Destroying the art studio he'd been rejected from or the school he'd gone to the past few years, but those were places that just brought pain and no one had gotten hurt. At least, he didn't think so. Attacking Andrew Stroneman and Luke Decker had also been bad, but he'd only really planned on scaring them, making them feel as afraid and powerless as he felt when they were around.

But now he realized how truly out of control he was. He didn't want anyone to get hurt. But there was nothing more he could do. The voice was in control. All he could do was watch as his father entered the house, the same grumbled expression on his face that he'd had every day of his life.

"Boy, go get me a beer. And be snappy."

But he didn't. He couldn't move a muscle. It wasn't his body anymore.

"No I don't think I will," the voice said through his mouth.

His father turned sharply, a dangerous glint in his eye. "What'd you say boy?"

"I said no," the voice said slowly, as if his father was stupid. "You disgusting, fat man."

His father came right for him. "I will not be spoken to that way in my own home. I think you need another lesson in respect, boy!" He raised his fist but before he could even pull it back, something stopped him. He glanced back and saw the threads of his clothes, unraveling and wrapping around his arm, holding it back. "What...is this?"

His belt suddenly loosened, splitting into five different segments, before shooting up and grabbing hold of the man's throat, tightening around it, causing him to choke and splutter.

What are you doing? I couldn't do that! the boy protested.

"I just gave you a smidgeon of my true power and still you used it to create beasts. I was forced to hold back and grow my own power. I gave you enough for your body to become used to it. But now, I no longer am forced to watch my powers be wasted. Your mind is so...disappointing. Your art so...unfulfilling. This world is lost without me. But I am back now and will paint a new world over this bleak one. Starting here."

No! Please don't!

"Why do you defend this man? He abuses you, hates you, makes you feel worthless."