Peter and Mary staggered backward, their minds grappling with the surreal sight of glass shards suspended mid-air, fixated still on the shattering sound that echoed from the crushed cup. Concern for Michael's well-being spurred them into immediate action, their thoughts racing toward a hasty trip to the hospital. Their urgency, however, hung on the absence of a crucial detail – blood. Their son's hand, seemingly unscathed, puzzled them, delaying their response to the levitating glass, unlike Dan, who was quicker to absorb the bizarre scene.
The abrupt and forceful manner in which Michael crushed the cup caught Dan off guard. Though harboring some anger towards his brother, it hadn't escalated to the point of wishing harm – perhaps just a touch of emotional turmoil. However, as the glass fragments began to hover above Michael's palm, Dan's dormant anger flared anew.
"What kind of trickery are you attempting to convince us of your nonsense?!" Dan propelled himself forward, outpacing his parents, who were just beginning to entertain similarly perplexing thoughts. The scene before them defied all logic, prompting them to seek a rational explanation.
Dan vigorously waved his hand, aiming to expose the illusion of the floating glass, connected, as he suspected, to thin, invisible strings.
"I'm dead serious," Michael asserted, his determination aimed at conveying the gravity of the situation rather than flaunting his superpowers. He firmly caught Dan's arm with his free hand.
Dan struggled to break free. Despite Michael's two-year seniority, they were no longer children, and Dan believed he could hold his own for a couple of years now. They had never established who was stronger since adulthood brought a sense of maturity and, more importantly, a fear of their mother catching them in a brawl. Reflecting on Michael effortlessly blocking him and their father moments ago, Dan wondered if things had changed.
"Let go! You're crushing my arm!" Dan exclaimed in pain.
Michael, still grappling with the unfamiliarity of his powers, loosened his grip but didn't release his younger brother, maintaining a firm hold on Dan's arm between his fingers.
"I'm not making this up," Michael declared, turning his back to the trio to face the living room wall. The smart TV hung alongside scenic family pictures, above a cabinet housing two plants and a myriad of books, documents, and albums. He concentrated, preparing to demonstrate the extent of his abilities.
Having attained Worm Sight, a Second Stage Insight, Michael reaped various benefits, including a physical enchantment that induced subtle alterations in the chemistry of his brain. Accompanying this enhancement was the emergence of a "Status Window" projecting a "Psyche" stat. In the brief period of acquainting himself with both the revolver and Magick before the arrival of his father and brother, Michael discerned that Psyche encompassed more than attributes like "perception" and "quick thinking," which were instead branches of the brain's Physique. Rather, Psyche denoted the duality between the body and the Self and governed the operation of the entire being, particularly in the realm of Magick. Conversely, the "Magick Ions" stat specifically measured the quantity of Magick Ions stored in his Pool of Magick Ions, situated within his heart and refined there to Magick.
With this understanding, Michael strategically utilized his 7 stat points in Psyche and 70 Magick – keeping Symbiosis OFF – to seize control over five of the most sharply edged glass fragments. He commanded them to soar through the air, tearing towards the screen of the TV with unparalleled precision.
The glass fragments streaked through the air at a velocity that mimicked the speed of bullets for Michael's parents and brother. The infused Magick propelling them not only lent an appearance of bullet-like swiftness but also heightened the impact upon colliding with the TV screen, giving the impression of a barrage from large-caliber bullets rather than mere shrapnel.
The resounding impact and the ensuing destruction of the TV transcended the realm of jest.
'Isn't that convincing enough?' Michael sought to dispel any lingering doubts his parents and brother might harbor, though their shock was so palpable it required no audible expression. Focusing once more, he sensed the diminishing reserve of Magick as he endeavored to levitate a few additional glass pieces from the floor.
This wasn't a showcase of telekinesis or a cultivated Ability but an extension of Michael's body through the release of Magick. Reflecting on an earlier moment when he sat beside his mother experimenting with the remote control, David's distant comment about it being a waste of Magick and only suitable for entertaining the riffraff echoed in his mind.
'I suppose it serves its purpose in this situation.'
Intense and demanding, the situation was fortunately cut short...
"S- Stop, Michael!" Peter's voice quivered, and Mary stood there, transfixed and terrified. Dan ceased his struggle against his brother, adopting a more subdued posture.
Michael released his brother. "I'm sorry. I don't want to frighten you, but you have to believe me."
"A contract with a... demon?" Dan muttered.
"Yes, a genuine Demon. It granted me this power and promised that neither I nor anyone close to me would be harmed. It was part of the deal. But... it deceived me. Now, there are dangerous individuals pursuing me, after a bounty on my head that, as I mentioned, would be nullified sometime past midnight on Saturday. People have already been hurt by those seeking the bounty. The police detective who visited and his family are just three among a growing number. I can't protect you if you're kept in the dark, which is why I chose to reveal the truth," Michael explained in a single breath.
Peter retreated, stumbling onto the sofa, his hands on his head as he stared at his son. Dan, now rubbing his arm, was a mixture of mortification, bitterness, resentment, and worry. Mary, her maternal instincts finally triggered, raised her hands as if to reach out to her son, yet she was at a loss on how to address his predicament.
"Why?" Peter composed himself slightly. "Why would you do something like this? What was so wrong in your life that you couldn't resolve it? Why didn't you ask your parents and siblings for help?"
Michael pressed his lips together; the answers seemed stuck in his throat. They were embarrassingly childish, and admitting them would only affirm his father's earlier accusations.
"Are you certain, Michael?" Mary inquired, leaving the question intentionally broad, unsure herself how to phrase it.
He spoke the truth, repeating some details twice, so he simply nodded.
"Demons like in the Bible? Like in movies?" Dan questioned, his gaze shifting between Michael and the TV. "What did It want in exchange for... that?" He motioned towards the shattered TV. "Don't tell me..."
"My soul," Michael confessed solemnly.
It was the one aspect Michael desired to safeguard for himself. Fully aware that the truth hinged on this detail, he briefly contemplated altering it. Ultimately, he hesitated to embrace the idea of deception and found comfort in the thought that, if they managed to navigate through this ordeal, his experience could serve as a cautionary tale, preventing his loved ones from committing similarly foolish acts.
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"Soul?" Peter asked in confusion.
Theirs wasn't a religious household, but then again, they had never entertained the idea of making objects levitate without physical contact. Frankly, Michael's demonstration was more unsettling than entirely convincing.
"Allow me to explain," David emerged from Peter and Mary's bedroom, surprising three out of the four present. "Stand back," he directed Michael with an authoritative tone that brooked no refusal. "Ma'am, please have a seat. Lad," he turned to Dan. "Your complexion doesn't look well, understandably so. Sit next to your parents. Sir, I apologize for the intrusion into your home. However, I am here to ensure the safety of your son for the next day or so and, by extension, the well-being of your family – both you, your wife, and your other son."
While Michael found himself unable to oppose David, the rest of his family mirrored his initial encounter with the enigmatic man.
With a subtle gesture, a green ember ignited above David's hand. Pointing downward, the Carsonia bore a scorching hole in the table before vanishing. "Not sufficient? Watch this."
David swung open the apartment door, stepped out, and disappeared, reappearing at the opposite end of the hall outside the apartment. Crossing The Gray once more, he vanished and materialized at the threshold to the apartment.
"It's a method of travel accessible to all those pursuing your son. I've taken precautions to prevent such intrusions in your home. Finally, why should you trust me? Because," his voice stretched, and the subtle threat he exuded stirred a dread in the three that surpassed anything they had felt before. "I can end everyone here as effortlessly as drawing breath, and no law enforcement agency you might consider would be capable of intervening."
David disregarded the frozen reactions of the three, deeming it an expected and futile expenditure of his time. He redirected his attention to Michael.
"Bring food and water to your parents' bedroom. It's the only room with a bathroom, and I've fortified it with the best materials I have for the task. Once inside, avoid touching the objects I've placed on the floor, and refrain from closing the door unless I instruct you. Closing it will activate the Rune. It's makeshift but would still take minutes of my best destructive efforts to break, or you'll have to wait forty-eight hours for the Magick to deplete."
"So, the plan is for us to hide in my parents' room?" Michael, uncertain about surviving until Sunday, couldn't help but express his frustration. "I expected something more than a game of cat and mouse!"
Despite his apprehension, Michael treaded cautiously in his interaction with David. It was a combination of dissatisfaction with David's handling of his parents and brother and an unwavering determination to protect them that gave him the audacity to voice his protest.
"Kid, haven't you realized it yet? You're already a mouse with a clowder on your tail, and a mouse puts up its best fight when it's cornered. Follow my directions, and I'll handle the rest. When I tell you to close the bedroom door, do it and position yourself on standby to shoot whoever opens it, even if it's a familiar face."
Michael swallowed hard, finding himself incapable of offering any further retort.
"I'll be gone for a while and return before sundown. Keep practicing. Visualize opponents of different sizes for quick reactions when you encounter them and precise shots to the heart," David said with a smile, waving goodbye. The gesture, oddly comforting, sent a soothing wave through Peter, Mary, and Dan as they shifted on the sofa immediately after the apartment door closed. Even now, the gravity of the situation had yet to fully sink in.
"Clark and Lessa live too far to get involved. I only ask that if you want to inform them about what's happening, wait until Sunday," Michael stated, leaving the three to practice as David had instructed. Concerning stocking his parents' bedroom, it had a bathroom, so there was no need to worry about water, and they were only going to be there until Sunday, so starvation wouldn't be a threat.
…
15:31
MK ran through red lights, vaulted over fences, collided with men, women, two children, and even an elderly lady. Her body bore the brunt of the ordeal, covered in bruises, scratches marring her face, and cuts on her elbows from falling and rolling on the ground during a collision with a car. No sane human could endure the level of pain her body endured and maintain the same stoic expression. Sadly, she was no longer human. She had become a Thrall.
In The Gray, the four individuals assembled by the House of Dobroutes pursued with their patience at its limit. Ever since MK had led them to that coffee shop, she gave the impression of running aimlessly. It took them some time to realize that she had lost track of the Demonic Presence connecting her to the bounty just before the portion encasing her evaporated.
"Tell her to halt. It's either him, David, or someone else who reached the bounty and severed the connection of the Demonic Presence."
"Then she's of no use anymore. What should I do with her?" Third, the one who had bitten MK, inquired, already aware that fully turning her was out of the question.
"Discard her. She'll likely succumb to her wounds by the next dawn," suggested Second.
"Unfortunate. Initially, I wasn't fond of her attracting attention, but we encountered no problems. I contemplated aiding in the recovery of her wounds as a reward and letting her instincts take over. It should provide an interesting show."
"No, you're right. David won't care about her. The bounty might," First remarked. "She's not entirely useless on her own. Boost her healing. Don't feed her, just ensure she lasts us a while longer. Trigger her bounty-related memories and stimulate her sense of obsession. Then, release her instincts."
"If she knew where he resides, she wouldn't have tracked him based on the Demonic Presence," Second, who was in favor of getting rid of MK, pointed out. "I understand the plan, but should we prolong the search this way?"
"Venessa guided us to this woman, and we have yet to reap any profit," First emphasized again. "Proceed."
Third nodded and created a rift in The Gray. "Head inside the nearest building," he commanded MK.
MK complied, and once out of direct sunlight, she stepped out of The Gray.
"Open your mouth."
She did. Third pricked his index finger with the tip of his thumb nail. A glittering drop of blood squeezed out. He held it under the sun for a moment before retrieving it, now flying back. The drop lost its red hue and solidified, tiny bubbles trapped inside.
"Swallow," he instructed, placing it on MK's tongue.
Gradually, MK's body began to show signs of recovery. However, her complexion, hair, and pupils took on a paler hue with a hint of gray and white.
Approaching her left ear, Third adopted a new tone in his voice. "See him. Smell him. Hear him. Touch him. Taste him. He is your Obsession. Your desire. Obtain him at any cost. The key to your freedom."
"Key to her freedom? Really?" a voice mocked from behind. "You flying rodents are more embarrassing to deal with than the mutts."
Third's eyes turned from blue to red as he turned around. His ordinary teeth elongated, his face shifting, gaining the sharpness of fangs.
"David!"
He stood just outside the building's lobby, bathed in sunlight.
...
Initially, it felt as if she had awakened from a prolonged nightmare. Every part of her body ached, and she wanted to scream and cry, but her body refused to respond.
There was a man in front of her, an unfamiliar face yet somewhat recognizable.
'The man from the dream?' she recalled. His charm and beauty were enchanting. He asked her things, and she did her utmost to satisfy him. It brought her joy, even though each request was accompanied by a sorrow and pain she couldn't comprehend.
His sweet voice tenderly spoke into her ear, alleviating the pain and fueling her passion. The more he spoke, the more liberated she felt her body becoming, but the less clarity she could maintain. His words were too tempting, the passion he stirred turned into a hunger, or perhaps it was her body that yearned. Her tongue and throat felt terribly dry the instant she regained her full senses. Nonetheless, she couldn't resist it. It was overwhelming her, and it felt more right than when she obeyed the man in her dream and listened to him now.
She moved, entirely on her own, without anyone giving her orders. As he intended... but not now.
...
Third was too engrossed in his focus on David to react before MK sprinted into the sunlight, escaping further manipulation. It wasn't a matter of speed but the fear of diverting even a fraction of his attention from the short man before him.
David smiled, paying no heed to MK as she ran past him. She was a Loose Thrall with no power to influence the bigger picture.
"David..." A voice echoed from a tear in space.
"Now that's a familiar voice. How long has it been, Colan? Fifty years? Almost sixty..." David maintained his line of sight on the hissing Vampire in the lobby. "The girl will disappear if you all stay here to entertain me. I'm sure you didn't release her for fun. If it was to find me, we all know it's not your time of day to start an altercation, neither your style to challenge your opponent directly. What would you do?"
In The Void, First, Colan, the de facto leader of the group, cracked his knuckles. "I need you to join him after the girl," he requested from the silent member of their quartet. "Now is not the time..." He pressed.
Fourth hesitated.
"Well?" Colan stepped between him and the rift that he tore to speak to David. An invisible tension clashed between them, exchanged in a single moment.
Fourth retreated a step and turned to pursue MK with the other Dobroutes, Second.
"A contender?" David inquired.
"Don't let him provoke you, Novak," Colan ignored David, issuing a warning to Third.
"Don't move!" David snapped. "Try to enter the building, and I guarantee it'll be a one-on-one reunion, Colan."
"What do you want, David?"
"Isn't it obvious? To improve my odds as the underdog..." His smile broke into laughter.