I sighed. I was in a mindscape, again. I’d delved into people more in the past week than I had in the last year. I shouldn’t be complaining though, it was giving me the amount of practice that I’d only gotten when I first discovered the ability.
It appeared that I was in my city, but it was devoid of human activity. Everything was dark, but it wasn’t like the dark of night. It was more like the city was covered in a massive shadow. There were lights, and I could tell that they were on, but they didn’t produce light. They just seemed to create a slightly less shaded area. The place gave me an odd combination of comfort and anxiety. I walked down the sidewalk to get a greater sense of where or why I was being shown this.
Turning a corner, little slug-like creatures inched across the street from several directions. They looked like fleshy gray balloons that had been emptied of air. The group moved toward a building with a storefront on the first floor and windows ascending on each floor above. A couple of the mob were climbing up the side as if gravity had no sway over them.
Without notice, a snarling creature of muscle, claws, and teeth crashed through a window from the third story of the building. It flew across the street and smashed into the concrete façade of another business. The shattered glass came back together and returned to its unbroken state on the third floor. The hulking beast’s impact site spider-webbed, but the cracks healed as if the damage had never happened. It hit the ground and rose to its clawed feet just as a tentacled monstrosity smashed the window that had shattered before. It slithered down the wall, but behind it the window again came back together as if it hadn’t been destroyed twice.
The little mush balloons changed direction to follow the two beasts that appeared to be fighting. Their speed quadrupled and they rocketed into the air to cling to the monsters. They seemed to be nothing more than a nuisance to the combatants and they slowly expanded like slime. The skin blobs were flung away, scattered like droplets of water from a wet dog.
None of the creatures, the flabby balloons nor the two that squared off, paid me any mind as the battle continued. A tentacle was torn away by teeth to undulate on the ground, a snake-like limb coiled around a muscled neck, and the pair plowed through a store display which reset itself. One of the small slug things encased the discarded tentacle while the rest pursued the battle as if their life depended on it.
My confusion at the event was tempered when I noticed Jascia standing next to me. “This is my world,” she said with sadness in her tone. “A constant battle to survive. Victors gain power and the bottom-feeders consume the scraps so that they may someday become sentient and join the fray.” With disgust, Jascia kicked away the wriggling blob that had gotten slightly larger after eating the tentacle. “You almost never get a respite. Always on the move, lest you get swarmed and eaten in your sleep.”
“So…what? You want me to feel bad or something and let you keep Cara’s body?” I asked.
“I’m just showing you that I share your loneliness. There are no friends, no family here. All you can depend on is you. Those people around you, they couldn’t possibly understand what that feels like.”
“I don’t know what you think you know about me, but you’re wrong.” I said. “Al, Dale, Leah, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, Shawn, are my friends. I’m not alone.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Jascia replied with a knowing smile. “You’re empty, I can see it.”
“Wait—are you trying the whole, ‘We’re alike, you and I. Join me and we’ll do great things together.’ trope that never, ever works for villains in the movies?” I asked with incredulity. She blinked at me. “That’s exactly what you’re trying to do, isn’t it?” I paused, then continued. “You should know I’d never join you, and what’s more, my posse is out there, standing all around us. For death’s sake, you saw Al fight, and you got knocked out by Shawn of all people. Even against me, you’d lose that fight every time. So, why would you think I’d join you? I’m seriously curious.”
She stared blank-faced at me. “I’m not a villain and I can give you power. You’d be invulnerable, invincible, immortal,” she tried.
“You saw me like, three days ago, all bloody from our fight, and I’m perfectly fine now. I’m basically invincible already. Also, invincible, invulnerable, and immortal don’t all mean the same thing. That guy that jumped off the roof and broke his legs, he wasn’t invulnerable. His bones came out, like—like chicken wings or something.” I made a queasy face remembering the sight.
“You weren’t fighting me, that was one of these larva.” She squished one beneath her foot as it passed, but it just kept moving forward, unaware that part of its body was stuck.
“Doesn’t matter.”
She harumphed. “Well, what do you want then? I’m not going back. You’ll have to kill the girl if you want me gone.”
“See, I’m not so sure about that. You were quite adamant about not letting me near her. I’ll bet that if I…” I trailed off, turning around.
“Wait! We can strike a deal!” she pleaded.
“That’s another thing villains always try and it never works either,” I said shaking my head.
“I’m not a villain! I’m just a regular person!” she said. I looked her up and down, then stared right into her eyes with my best seriously-lady-you-think-you’re-a-normal-person expression. “I’m normal in my world and I’m keeping this body.”
She lunged toward me like a running back about to stiff arm a defender. I grabbed her wrist and flung her over my shoulder into a building. She slammed into a sign that read, ‘Herb Stern’s Pawn Shop’. Son of the dead. Whiskey and a pawn shop? What all happened to that guy after I worked for him?
I extended a hand toward her and the cement that encased the sign formed around her body, encasing her instead. She struggled fruitlessly as I waved with a smile. The whole scene blurred away, and I was in a hospital room with a young girl wearing a gown and a cast on one arm. She was lying under the covers cuddling a T-Rex plushie. Kids that like dinosaurs are always the coolest.
Mr. and Mrs. Hasbrook had worried expressions on their faces, while a doctor looked between them and the hospital bed. I could tell that the little girl was just pretending to be asleep as the trio stood conspiratorially near the door. It looked like I’d have to live through a traumatic portion of Cara’s life after all. I’d hoped to be able to avoid it since our last encounter skipped right to the end.
“She has juvenile Huntington’s disease,” the doctor told the parents. Their worried expressions didn’t change. They stared blankly at him with undertones of confusion but were unwilling to admit they didn’t know what that was. As if hiding exasperation that they didn’t have a medical degree, he spoke again. “Right now, Cara seems clumsy and drops things sometimes, but over time, she’ll become less and less coordinated. Her muscles will spasm involuntarily and she’ll start having seizures. She’ll lose the ability to walk, and eventually, she’ll die.”
Mrs. Hasbrook’s expression turned to one of blame. “Well, there has to be something you can do. Isn’t there some treatment or medicine that you can give her?”
“There is no cure for this Mrs. Hasbrook. There are some treatments, but they only mask the symptoms; they won’t extend her life. There are promising trials in the UK. We can try to get her into one of those, but I can’t make any promises.”
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The two parents looked at each other. “How long does she have?” Mr. Hasbrook asked.
“It’s hard to tell at this stage. It’s not like she has a tattoo with an expiration date, but I’d say she could live another seven to ten years.”
The scene zoomed sideways, becoming a classroom.
The students sat at islands consisting of four desks pushed together. They were working on group projects. Cara was showing a worksheet to the kid next to her, pointing with a pencil. He leaned over the paper just as Cara’s arm twitched slightly. She looked down at it with confusion, then it flailed wildly, smacking the kid in the face who rocked back in his seat. In response, a desk chair rolled to the side and the teacher stalked toward Cara’s group.
“I saw that!” the teacher said loudly. The woman grabbed Cara roughly by the arm and hauled her out of the classroom. I followed them down the hallway to the principal’s office. She was set in front of a slight man with his hands clasped together on his desk. Cara slouched and put her head down in shame and confusion. The man’s mouth moved, but Cara heard nothing.
There was a buzz of movement as time sped up. Her parents arrived and Mrs. Hasbrook spoke furiously at both the teacher and the principal. Oblivious to the scene unfolding around her, Cara didn’t move. She just stared at her arm like it had betrayed her.
Standing up to go with her parents, Cara grew a couple inches and a book on U.S. history appeared in her hands. She was walking down a flight of stairs, chatting with a friend. One of her legs went limp, causing her to trip. The book tumbled down the stairs as she reached to catch herself on the railing. She tested her footing and stood up straight. The same look of betrayal crossed her face before she started to laugh. Her friend looked at her with worry.
“I must have tripped,” Cara said, then quickly recovered the book at the bottom of the staircase. When she stood up straight, we stood in a gymnasium, and she was holding a volleyball. She fell to the ground and the ball rolled away. People of all ages started popping into existence around her with a range of expressions.
Her muscles twitched involuntarily, her head stuttered from side to side. Finally, the spasms ceased, and she breathed heavily. Crutches appeared next to her and fell to the floor. She picked them up and rose to her feet. The gymnasium disappeared and she used the crutches to go from the living room into the kitchen. Her legs crumpled beneath her.
A wheelchair flashed into existence to catch her. Mrs. Hasbrook stood behind the chair, with her hands on the handles. A bib was around Cara’s neck now. Mr. Hasbrook walked toward her from behind a kitchen island with a bowl. He spooned mush into her mouth, but her head twitched to the side and the spoon fell to the floor.
He picked it up and said, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” but there was a stain left on the carpet that made Mrs. Hasbrook’s face twitch. The chair toppled over, and Cara went into another seizure. Her parents lifted her and placed her in a hospital bed in their living room. She stopped twitching.
Under the blanket, she urged her legs to move, but they didn’t listen. Her eyes chastised them for betraying her. She wanted to reach down to pinch them, but she was afraid that if she tried to lean forward, she’d discover that the rest of her body had joined their mutiny. In an effort to avoid thinking about it, she tried to roll onto her side, but the uncontrollable movement of her head and arms prevented her from getting the momentum to do so.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, wetting the pillow. Nothing else happened, no other zooming from scene to scene. Her body’s revolt ended and now it was completely motionless as more and more tears fell. I steeled myself to make my appearance.
Walking into focus at her bedside wearing a white lab coat and holding a clipboard, I put my hand on her forehead. I smiled down at her then stood to my full height.
“Good news!” I said jubilantly. “The treatment is finally working! You should be feeling much stronger.” Cara tried to form words, but she struggled to respond.
“Go ahead, move your arms,” I said. She tried to speak once more, and this time, weakly succeeded.
“I can’t.” An air of defeat in her tone. “I’m paralyzed.”
“Not anymore,” I said pulling her arms from beneath the covers. “You can feel that, right?” I remembered something from a doctor appointment that I’d had when I was a kid. I put two of my fingers in her hand. “Let’s test your strength, squeeze my fingers.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise and a disbelieving smile graced her lips. She squeezed, and her strength grew. I smiled and laughed with increasing excitement. It was infectious and her smile widened.
“You see that?” I said. “And that’s not all! C’mon.” I put my hand out for her to grab so I could pull her to her feet. Then, just like before, Jascia appeared. She was wearing blue scrubs and carried her own clipboard with clawed fingers.
“Doctor, you seem to be looking at the wrong chart.” She used a sarcastic sad face to look at Cara. She pointed at her chart as she showed it to me. “If you look here, you can see she’s been getting the placebo.” I looked at the chart which read. ‘She’s mine!’ then I looked back down to see Cara’s face fall along with her outstretched arm. I turned an unamused expression back to Jascia who wore a self-satisfied grin.
“Will you excuse me, Cara? I have to speak with my nurse in private,” I politely said, then smiling sarcastically at Jascia, I grabbed the demon and led her out of the room. I put an arm around one of her shoulders and hunched forward as if we were in a huddle to discuss our next play. She joined me in the posture, bringing her into my pace and increasing my influence over her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I complained in a forceful whisper.
“I’m not letting you ruin this for me,” Jascia said, also whispering. I wanted to pull the unwitting demon as far under my control as possible.
“Look at that girl,” I gestured. “You told me you’ve spent your whole life fighting alone. Well, that’s exactly what she’s been doing, except you could fight back, she couldn’t. There’s no one in her life that can understand her turmoil, and she’s been fighting a battle that she couldn’t win. Nobody did anything to her and there’s no one for her to blame. She was forced to fight alone against her own body.” Jascia’s lips pursed. She looked pityingly over at Cara. “Don’t you dare look at her with pity,” I spat.
Jascia turned back to me with a pained expression. I smirked at her, and a syringe appeared in my hand. I stabbed it into the demon’s neck and pressed down on the plunger. Her hand shot up to clutch the injection site as I pulled the needle away. Her eyes were wide, shock and fear rose on her face, then we both looked at the empty syringe in my hand.
“Oops, I must have grabbed the powerful anesthetic.” I looked at her apologetically. “You’re going to be out for a really, really long time.”
She fell to the floor with unblinking eyes. I stepped over her body with a sigh, walking back into the room where Cara lay, eagerly awaiting my return.
“Sorry about that, the nurse was confused. And that’s why I get paid the big bucks,” I said with a chuckle. “Anyway, don’t worry, it wasn’t the placebo. The experimental treatment worked!” Her smile reluctantly returned. People are naturally suspicious about good news that comes without conditions.
I gestured with my hands to tone down her excitement. “Now, now. We’re not out of the woods yet. It will take a good bit of physical therapy, but don’t worry. You’ll be back to normal in no time. Go ahead, stand up.”
Holding out my hand for the umpteenth time, Cara tentatively sat up and reached to grab it. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and pressed her feet to the floor. Her expression rose as she did, and she looked at me with hope.
“I can feel the floor,” she said. Her toes wriggled in the plush carpet and joy welled up in her eyes. She smiled wide, tears streaming down her face, and put her weight in my hand to try to lift herself.
“Slow, don’t force it. There you go. Now you got it,” I said. She shifted her weight onto her feet, then flung herself at me, hugging me with all her strength. We laughed together cherishing the miracle. “Thank you, doctor. I never thought I’d ever stand again.” I pulled away to look into her eyes.
“Not only can you stand; you can walk; you can run. You have your whole life ahead of you. A normal life.”
I extricated myself and patted her on the shoulder. After a moment, I turned and walked toward the door. I looked back at her. “I’ll see you on the other side.” With a wave, I faded into the background, and into my own body.
I stood leaning over Cara. Her body still sat in the dining room chair placed in the middle of the room, her hand still clutching mine. Someone was shaking me.
“What’s wrong with him? Why are they just staring into each other’s eyes?” Shawn asked, waving a hand in front of my face.
With a flash of anger, I pushed him away. “Get off me,” I demanded. He was sent a few feet and fell to the floor. I didn’t put any extra oomph into the shove, I swear. I’m really that strong; honest.
“She cast a spell on you or something. I was just trying to snap you out of it,” he defended.
“She didn’t cast a spell. We were having a battle of the minds,” I explained pointing at my skull as if he was an idiot. Actually, no—not as if he was an idiot; he really was an idiot. My attention returned to Cara who rose a hand to her forehead. She tried to shake away the confusion, then pulled her hand away to stare at it with even more confusion.
She looked forward and up at my face. I smiled in response. Her eyes were no longer black, they were the gray that I’d grown accustomed to seeing each time I brought someone back. With her return confirmed, I spoke my trademark phrase.
“Cara. Welcome to your second chance.”