“Just hand over the money”, the man in the mask hissed, knife twisting into Arons neck. 

“Don’t have…”, croaked Aron just as another punch landed into his stomach, almost folding him in two. He was held upright by the one holding the knife. Aron was in agony, in pain the likes of which he had never experienced before. Stars drifted across his vision and he emptied his stomach. 

“Check his bag.” 

The contents in his bag were flipped over, a book and a copy fell to the ground. The robber threw it away in disgust and punched Aron again. The man holding him released his grip and Aron sank to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

And then they started kicking him. And they asked him about the money. The only thing Aron knew was pain and stars and pain. He threw up a few more times. His vision was pitch black. The alley had disappeared. Was he dead? The world disappeared. The pain, surprisingly, started subsiding. And then it happened. 

A white light. It was a point at first. A white dot amidst the black. It spread, and came closer. Expanding and more and becoming a circle the size of a football.  And then it took on the size of a distant sun. There was something coming from it, like a feeling. A feeling of peace and comfort that seeped into Arons core. Aron couldn’t tell much just that the light felt welcoming. With his mind, he reached for it. He saw his hands, white shirt bloody, fingers almost touching the white. Then, contact was made. 

The white light seeped into his fingers. Slowly and then fast and it felt like a soothing balm had been inserted into his blood vessels, travelling through him. His whole body started to vibrate with energy. And Aron felt alive. The light was gone, darkness again. 

“Is he dead?” 

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Words cut through the darkness and Aron opened his eyes. The faint light illuminating the alley. There, his book and copy and his bag. The sound of movement, he felt an impact on his stomach but no pain. Huh. 

Alive, he felt alive, 

He felt energy coursing through him. Aron got to his feet. The robbers started, eyes showing surprise even through their masks. He felt no pain, only energy. Aron wiped his lips, saw blood smeared across his hands. He didn't know what was happening, he shouldn't have been able to get up. 

Was he dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did it matter? He felt unstoppable. 

His lips curled into a faint smile more akin to a wolves. His eyes lit up. 

“My turn.” 

The robber with the knife was the first to break out of the trance. He moved, trying to bring the knife down in an arc but his movement was slow. It was like he was moving through water. Aron grabbed the wrist, the robber cried out. The knife clattered to the pavement.  And Aron punched him with his weaker left hand. It landed on the robber's gut and the man yelled, folded in half and sank to the ground. 

His partner went for a swing, slow again. Aron ducked, moved a few steps forward taking him clear of the man. And then he stomped on the man's achilles. A scream, the man fell on one knee. Aron swung and kicked him in the shoulders, dropping him to the ground. Both robbers lay squirming.

 Aron smiled as he walked over to his bag. He bent to pick up his book and Aron paused. It hit him like a car crash. 

What just happened! He stood straight, his head started spinning. He brought up his hands, his shirt was bloodied and turned into rags. The sound of moans caught his attention and he gaped at the fallen men. They were folded in double, squirming and moaning in pain. He, he had done this. How? What? The white light. It was real. He wasn’t dead. It wasn’t a dream. He gaped again. He? He was capable of this? A single hit and the men had fallen. They were not small men either and Aron himself was beaten to a bloody mess. And the pain? Where was it? He started feeling different parts of his body, no pain. No bleeding either. 

It had something to do with the white light. Power, it had given him power. 

Aron shook his head and finally picked up his bag and copy. He needed to sleep, he needed new clothes. His mind was in a haze. 

The walk was relatively quick and there was no one on the streets. He knocked on Grandma Jens door. After what seemed like hours, she opened the door and gasped. 

Aron opened the secret pocket inside of his pants, brought out an envelope and offered it to Grandma Jen. 

“Here’s this month's rent”. 

Darkness descended upon Aron as he fell to the floor.