Wither

Chapter 2-A Psychic Disaster

There was something cynical in our usually angelic principal's voice when I shut the door. I frowned, but told my friends it was okay and we could leave. I clutched my schedule, walking to the Potion's room. I sat down in my seat, with Seto next to me and Jet in back.

Mr. Rockwell tapped furiously on the blackboard. "Listen up!" he barked sharply. The class stopped chatting and stared at him. "We'll be working strictly on power increasing and offensive potions today!" he gave a clipped description of what the class would be like for the rest of the year. I squirmed in my seat, listening on how to make the potions, what they were good for, and various strengths in battle.

Next period was Psychics. Mr. Ratworst smiled, his bright white hair bobbing as he waddled to the blackboard. "Attention, class!" he said kindly and waited for everyone to quiet down. Out of respect, we stopped chatting. "We will be learning how to control our minds and how to twist others'. You will discover how to cause someone pain by twisting the threads of their being, while not actually physically hurting them. Ah, Scott, was it? Come up here."

Seto nervously came up to the front of the class. "Sir, my name is Seto."

Mr. Rockwell ignored the comment. "Feel my power, Silas. Though I know you have the physical- and willpower to resist me, do not." Mr. Rockwell glared daggers at Seto. Beads of sweat appeared on Seto's forehead as Mr. Rockwell twisted harder. I tensed as Seto began to crumple. He groaned as Mr. Rockwell's face contorted, the face of someone so concentrated they could kill. As Mr. Rockwell's force pushed Seto to the ground, he cried out in agony. I leapt from my seat and yelled, "Stop it! You're killing him!"

Mr. Rockwell released Seto, who collapsed on the floor. The other students looked at him, me, and Mr. Rockwell, shocked. "Oh, my dear boy," the old man yelped, kneeling down beside Seto. He struggled to find something in his pockets, and finally pulled out a bar of chocolate. He snapped it and handed Seto a few squares. "This will make you feel better."

Seto weakly got to his feet and ate the chocolate. He went to his seat and we continued the lesson. "That his how you are affected by the Psychic power," Mr. Rockwell wrote on the board 'AFFECT' and underlined it. "What are the side affects, eh...Seto?"

Seto said, "Powerlessness over your body, intense pain, and the slow onset of insanity."

"Very good!" he said, writing all three down. "Now, we need to know how to block out these twisting of the strings. Ms. Burnne, you show...considerable willpower. Come up here." I obliged and stood at the front. "Now, can you please imagine a shield?"

I closed my eyes, thinking hard. A mental image of a gold and ruby shield, coated in flames appeared in my head. "Now, I am going to try to twist your strings. Do not let me past your shield."

I saw a clawed hand descending from the sky. I intensified my shield, readying for impact. Wham! The hand pushed against my shield. I pushed back, setting it alight, but it formed a fist and punched through the shield. I lost hold on the image and it descended to my strings. I desperately imagined a rival fist, and whacked it away. My fist, rushed and poorly made, barely even damaged Mr. Rockwell. The clawed hand closed around the strings, and I could feel myself scrunching up. I felt intense burning in my chest, as his hand was still on fire. I felt the weight of a thousand anvils on my shoulders as I was pushed down. I screamed as the claws began slowly sawing away at my strings. Mr. Rockwell stopped, and I lay there, panting. The students looked disturbed, and Jet looked like he could kill Mr. Rockwell.

Seto's eyes flashed. He glared at Mr. Rockwell, and suddenly the teacher fell to his knees. Jet punched Seto, making Seto lose hold on Mr. Rockwell. The instructor stood up shakily and helped me to my seat. "Class dismissed," he said gravely, without the usual bubble of happiness he usually dismissed us with.