Cherish

First Move

The lair was quiet.

Everyone had gone to bed.

Even Donnie, still holed up in his lab, had fallen into a fitful rest.

That is, until the searing pain of losing control of his own body woke him.

His body crawled out from under the desk, and left the lab for the second time that night.

Donnie desperately tried to get himself back into the lab, to no avail of course.

It was like watching a movie, but it was in first person and he was the main character, though he had no control over what happened. He could only think about what the spirit had decided to do, who the spirit had selected to take away.

To Donnie's surprise, he found himself leaving the lair.

He was completely confused. Everyone was in their rooms. He had heard them retire. If someone had gotten up, he would have heard it.

He pushed open the usual manhole cover and crawled out, quietly replacing the cover to its place.

What could the spirit possibly want on the surface? Donnie was lost in thought, not even paying attention to where his body was being taken. He realized what was going on all too late, when he landed on the fire escape.

'Oh my god.'

He didn't say it. He couldn't control his mouth. He couldn't control anything. If he could he'd be running back to the lair at full speed to end his own life, not prying open the window to his sweet princess's house.

He was forced to crawl inside. He tiptoed toward her room completely undetectable, although he was actually screaming loud as he could and begging the spirit not to do it.

He pushed her door open. She was soundly asleep. The sight of her would have made Donnie smile if he weren't in such a situation. He loved the way she looked when she was asleep. He remembered the photo of he and her that he kept in his lab. He often would gaze at it in the days when he was allowed to stay in his lab.

Now he was cursing himself for paying the picture any mind. How else would the spirit know that she was dear to him?

He took his bo staff from its position on his back and twirled it in his hands, flicking the blade from its end.

Donnie felt sick to his stomach.

'Oh my god.'

He held the staff directly over her.

It was aimed directly for her heart.

'Let's talk this over!' Donnie tried to reason.

'I mean her life? For a pot? Can't you just...break my laptop or something?'

'...If you're willing to sacrifice it it's not enough.'

'Please! It was an accident! I'm sorry!' Donnie cried.

His pleas fell on deaf ears.

For a moment all was quiet in the room and in his mind.

"...Donnie?"

In one swift movement his staff was brought down.

There was excruciating pain.

Then a sharp high-pitched cry...

Mr. O'Neil rushed from his bed at the sound of the scream. He threw open the door to his daughter's room and took a moment to process what he saw.