As I pedaled my bicycle, I couldn't shake off the events that had took place.

Maybe I couldn't solve this all on my own; perhaps I should consult a specialist, I mused to myself. But what kind of specialist?

A doctor? What could a doctor do? Okay, I could demonstrate some paranormal abilities like that lightning or the fire to the doctor. Great! And then what? Oh well, I'd end up as a case study, and the question was who would be the ones studying me.

How on earth was it possible for me to generate so much electricity to see it flashing out of my fingers? And that fire that burned from my hand without burning my hand?

HOW COULD THAT BE?

Just thinking about this accelerated my heartbeat again.

But, I certainly did not want to end up on the examination table! 'They', whoever they will be, would certainly want to know how I generated that electrical current. And how would they research that? It was no longer only about the voice in my head. It was much more than that, it was about those not quite easy to explain things too. I could not separate one from the other.

So, what other specialist could I consult? Let me see, I have kind of a problem after using the dream interface and playing Mephisto. I may not be the only one having this problem, so I should check with the community.

I couldn't believe that I was so exceptional; there must be somebody else who went through this shit! Where could I search for this info? The best place to check would be with the gamers! In this case, I wouldn't leave any search history on my name, and they must have a lot of information about the dream interface problems and even about this damn game.

I felt my heartbeat stabilize and my breathing return to normal. I took deep breaths. Yeah, where else would I hear the latest news about these things?

When should I go? The sooner, the better! Since I was already on the road, and I had the bike, it was easy to change the plan. Instead of going home, I decided to head for the 'zone'.

The 'zone' was the place where the gamers had their headquarters. When I first met Markus, it was in the old industrial area where the gamers had taken over an abandoned factory building. They even had an electrical cable connected from a nearby building, and they were covering the cost of their consumption through some shady deal. The electricity provider didn't even know they had extra customers.

I hoped they hadn't changed their meeting place, or at least that I could find some info to learn where they were meeting now. It would be challenging to find them on the internet as they don't like to publish this info.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Since I dislike riding my bike through high-traffic areas, I chose a quieter, more scenic route, even if it meant riding a few extra kilometers. It followed a small creek and then passed through some industrial areas. The second part wasn't as scenic, but it was still quieter with less traffic. This way, I could ride my bike mostly on autopilot and focus on my thoughts.

All I knew was that I heard a voice in my head, and that I could let this 'voice' control me to do paranormal things. It sounded pretty scary, especially the part about letting 'it' control me. At least I was aware of what I was doing, even if I wasn't really doing it. How the hell could I explain this? I had no explanation.

What could I ask? What I was doing in those moments was some kind of witchcraft. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to investigate with the gamers and hear what they had to say, if any strange things had happened to any of them.

Could I learn more about witchcraft? About what I can do? How could I best test it?

"What's that?"

"That's an airplane!"

"Please stop, please stop; I want to look at it!"

Okay? My fairy half is as excited about an airplane as a three-year-old. Since the airport is on this side of town, more airplanes were coming, and I had to spend some ten minutes standing there.

"You know something, as long as you look at the planes, I could practice some magic?" I wondered.

"No, no, that won't work; you have to keep your eyes up!"

Oh yeah. Even worse than walking with a three-year-old. I stopped to look at airplanes! Oh yeah, this proves my witch genes.

My arms were itching. Drat, I do have some scratches from those bushes I ran through. I might get an infection in the end.

Standing there and watching planes, the itching became unbearable.

“Hey, White Flower! You're a healer, aren't you? Do you see these scratches? Can you heal me?”

“You should be able to heal yourself; just say the words: I want to heal me!”

For a moment, I just stood there dumbfounded. Just say the words, and it would work?

“I want to heal me!”

A strange light illuminated my hand from the inside and washed over me. All the scratches disappeared.

“Wow! Holy crap! I did heal myself!”

“Congratulations!”

I don't know if she was making fun of me or not, but I felt much better.

“Okay... Can I heal other people too?”

“Sure, you just need to say the words: I want to heal you and touch them!”

Huh. Tell me somebody that I'm not a witch. How did I make those scratches disappear in a couple of seconds? I can bloody heal?