In few sessions, however, I learned how to perceive the Apollonids’ position. It was easier than I thought: I had become so secure of my strength and my motivation, that mastering new skills didn’t require any more years. There was nothing else that could stop me, except death.

Each night, for me, was (and is) battle, a battle that was just routine, with nothing memorable or epic about it. Whenever Darrell’s car reached the city, my mind thought of only one thing: to get out and calmly walk down the road, in search of my prey, with absolute indifference for the rest of the world around me, until I’d sense the first streams of hatred that weren’t produced by me or Darrell. Then, we would run into the right position, and once the Apollonids appeared, I’d just snort in contempt; the same contempt that made me evoke the fireballs which destroyed them

One night, Darrell told me: “I think I can say I’m proud of your performances, Hayden.” I just nodded. I didn’t feel content, or satisfied: I was only doing my job, the way I was supposed to. But it was still an important moment: it was the first genuine compliment Darrell had given to me in years. Something awoke inside of me, but I repressed it instantly. I knew why Darrell had said that: he knew I would now react in the appropriate manner, that is, with absolute indifference.

One and a half year later, I had become skilled enough not to have to stay next to him all the time. That made our nightly battles quicker: we could just take a different zone of the city each night. Fireball after fireball, victory over victory, my sense of power grew up. It was the power to defeat creatures that deserved to be hated, the sensation of being stronger than the enemy. More, it was the power of looking at the rest of reality from above, of knowing its real truth. It felt good – very good. My persistent sense of hatred had turned enjoyable. This immensely improved my life; of course, it didn’t make me happy, but at least I had one nice sensation within my brain.

Why, then, do I care for beings I consider to be inferior, I told myself? The answer wasn’t so complicated: that’s just my duty. The best ones take care of the others, I concluded. Darkfire’s burden.

With this feeling of megalomania, I reached the legal adult age. I obtained by diploma, which for me only meant I wouldn’t have to tell the Ministry of Education that yes, I had studied French, Maths and History. Far more important was the moment I got my driving licence and my first car, which finally made me fully independent from Darrell, although that happened a handful of years later: I was nearly twenty. My days weren’t spent all the time in the manor any more: I got various part-time jobs that covered the bureaucratic aspects of my life, just like Darrell. All of them were during the afternoon, in order to rest during the morning. There was no more formal training left for me either: I was totally free to go around with my car in town and around Devon, not to enjoy the scenery, but to keep boredom away, and most of all to get a sane dose of disdain. I would hang around and attend some pubs for a beer or a full meal, looking at the other customers with silent contempt, refusing any possible approach to talk with a gaze that turned them away from scare.

It was during one of these hangouts that I met the human that almost destroyed the castle of complacency I had built for nearly a decade.

It was a February late afternoon, just after work, when there’s nothing better than some alcohol to get some relief from winter. I was sitting on the counter of one of the pubs in Plymouth (I never entered the same pub twice in a row, or people would remember my face), drinking my pint in silence and solitude, while thinking about where the Apollonids could possibly appear that night. Around me, groups of friends chatted loudly, or made their stupid drinking games with some dice. Nobody gave a look at me, and that was the way it was meant to be.

Except for someone.

It was a young boy, probably not many years older than me, with short, brown, straight hair, grey eyes and no beard at all. He wore a plaid, white and green shirt and blue jeans, in total contrast with my all-black suite that was designed to blend with the night. The first time he looked at me, my first reaction was to think he was just looking at the whole crowd. But when I saw again in his direction, he was still staring at me: without doubt, he was looking for a drinking mate, or something like that. Well, he would soon understand I wasn’t the kind of person he was looking for. I gave him my most venomous look, the one that always worked in repelling other humans away. However, after one minute, the boy hadn’t turned his eyes. Instead, he just smiled for a short moment and drank a sip of his pint.

Cold sweat was now running on my front. I was fighting to keep my shaking hand calm. Who was this guy? What was he looking for? Had he seen me or Darrell during our fights against the Apollonids? Maybe he had seen the Apollonids directly? No, impossible, it would mean he’s a Darkfire like me, and I’d know it if there were other Darkfires in the county...

I couldn’t remain there one second. Abruptly, I left my beer at half and fled out of the pub. Darrell had to be alerted, the soonest possible: that boy could mean trouble.

I had already reached my car parked in a suburban road, and painfully oppressed the desire to run, in order not to be noticed, when my body froze completely.

The boy was there, looking at me from a distance.

Now I was certain: it had to be a spy. For what organization, I didn’t know; but if I just kept ignoring him, he would certainly find out the manor. I had to face him. I walked towards his direction, angry as much as I could without letting my fireballs escape. The boy remained still; his eyes opened a little, but if he was starting being afraid, he didn’t show it. He had to be a very stupid boy.

“You tell me what the fuck you want from me right here and right now, or you’re going to regret it. GOT IT?”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

His breath finally became heavier. I really wanted to see if he’d keep following me like the creeper he was.

Finally, his mouth opened.

“I...I like you.”

It took me some seconds to be fully aware of the sound I had just heard. I was ready to hear many things, and they all involved something related to the police. My mind was finally calming: nobody was spying me or Darrell. But another part of it, one I didn’t even know I had, was awakening, producing a sensation I was completely unable to decipher.

No one had ever told me something like those words, not since the day I lost my parents.

I was shaking again.

The alien sensation in my mind was assaulting me. It was more familiar than I initially thought...a sensation I was used to in the past. But what was it, I wondered...?

I scrolled my head. I understood what was going on. That boy wasn’t a threat: he was something else.

“Oh,” I whispered, using my cruellest tone, “you’re a fag.”

Darrell had told me about homosexuals, too. Badly, of course – he couldn’t let myself hear of something that was supposed to be nice. My parents hadn’t ever told me about this, so when Darrell described them to me, they sounded to me like one of the most wrong things in existence. And lots of countries were even letting them get married! What the hell was wrong with the world I even had to protect?

“Don’t you dislike yourself for being a fag?” I pronounced, the spirit of hatred guiding me. The boy didn’t look at all intimidated. Instead, he just smiled.

“I know you aren't serious,” he whispered, giggling.

“What do you mean, I’m not serious?” I answered, irritated.

“Do you think you’re the first one who tells me so? Someone like me gets quite talented to recognize those who think it for real and those who don’t,” he said, “and I know you don’t.”

“And how do you know it, you sodomite?” I shouted. That guy...how dared he insinuate I could return his perversion?

He giggled again. “Your eyes. I could see it, right now. Your eyes are clearly those of someone who’s suffered a lot. Just like me.”

Without even thinking about it, I made one step back. He could read what was happening in my mind? Or was I being such an open book?

“What’s your story?” He asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business, dog!” I shouted.

His expression didn’t change at all.

“My parents were Christian preachers. I waited to be at least eighteen to tell them what I was, because I knew they’d probably throw me away from home. But it was still horrible...my mum kept crying in an angle of our living room and my dad was like ready to burn the world. I’ve been living all by myself without any help since then, and I’m quite free to live my life, but I still tried to reopen my contacts with my parents. Do you think I did it?”

I didn’t answer.

“No. I didn’t, and I’m starting to think I will never see them any more.”

I kept not saying anything. The alien sensation had become stronger. Worse: there was a second one. This time, I had a word for it...compassion, wasn’t it?

“Listen,” the boy finally said, “I understand if you don’t like me, and I’m sorry for being such a creeper. But I know it from your eyes...you need love, somewhere inside you. If you ever need to be loved and tell your story, like I’ve just done, you can find me in that pub almost every day. If you don’t, I promise I won’t chase you again like this.”

With that, he turned back and left. Finally.

I took some moments to close my eyes and breathe, one of my most frequent mental exercises to control my emotions during my training. After some seconds of that, I finally felt my clothes under my coat stick into my skin more than the usual: Despite the winter climate, I was all covered in sweat.

I began wandering, without even thinking of what place to reach. The longest I walked, the better I would surely delete this experience with that creeper fag.

You’re superior to him. You’re a Darkfire. You know what this world’s like. And you’re straight. Don’t get down to his level.

I was sure I was straight because even though I had been forbidden to touch me there, when I was young and felt sexual excitement it was for women I saw on TV. But even if I was gay, I just couldn’t accept that boy’s offer. Hell, I did not want his offer, that was sure...

...then why was I still thinking of him after one hour? The sound of his words were still in my ears, especially when he told me about his parents. I will never see them any more...just like me, with the difference his parents still belonged to this world.

I sat on a corner, my hands on my front, closing my eyes so tightly that tears escaped.

“I am a Darkfire. I don’t need love. Love is useless.”

I repeated myself this mantra until it was time to do my nightly duty again.

***

“I sense a group to the east,” I told Darrell.

“There’s another one from the opposite part,” he replied.

“See you later,” I said, before leaving him to the east side of the city.

I was back into action. Whatever had happened some hours before, it was already a distant, irrelevant memory. That wouldn’t stop me from doing my duty.

Here they were, the Apollonids, like every evening, ready for their savage destruction and ready to be destroyed. My fireballs appeared instantly. One hit, two hits, several hits, I almost finished all the Apollonids. But it wasn’t over: a new group was coming behind me. I turned myself at the speed of light. There happened to be more than usually: Darrell had mentioned something about some terrorist attack having happened somewhere in Europe, so I should have expected it. I didn’t mind, I was good in my job, and some more Apollonid couldn’t beat me. One, two, three, more; I repeatedly beat them, but their flow never stopped. They were surrounding me. Making an effort to prevail over the fatigue, I prepared myself for a special technique to be applied in these cases: rotating around yourself with one leg and throwing fireballs all around, in a constant flood of hate. I stayed on the ground with only the top of my left foot, and I opened my hands, concentrating on my task...

But my fatigue was winning...something else sounded in my mind...

Your eyes were clearly those of someone who’s suffered for long. Just like me.

The fireballs didn’t appear.

“What the hell?” I rotated again, sure they would appear next time.

No fireballs at all.

I rotated again.

Nothing.

I panicked.

“DARRELL! DARRELL!”

The demons were very close. Their mortal heat was on my skin...

“HAYDEN!”

The Apollonids disappeared. Darrell was in front of me, the last glimpses of his fireballs in his mind. I was on the ground in the fetal position.

“What happened?” He barked.

“I...I don’t know.” Despite being in a state of shock, I knew Darrell would want to investigate further if I admitted I couldn’t produce the fireballs. “They were too much...”

To my astonishment, Darrell dismissed everything with a hand gesture.

“Tonight was more difficult than usual. Good chance I had finished all my Apollonids. These terrorists are really producing an amount of hate I’ve never seen in my life...we must be careful next days.”

I didn’t need to be careful, I needed to forget that boy. If I didn’t, I would perish, and then so would the world, in flames of hatred.

But how could my inner part forget that someone liked me for the first time in a decade?