I couldn’t believe the direction this meeting had gone. We were now being invited to join one of the most wanted terrorist organizations in the world simply because we were unregistered powereds. It was infuriating. How fucking dare they think we would even be willing to listen to any of their shit.

I reached towards the back of the waistband of my jeans. These two needed to be dealt with. They had to pay for what they had done. I pulled out the pistol that I had hidden in my waistband and fired off multiple shots.

“Mitch, No!” Eric screamed out as the shots echoed through the abandoned building. He was about to leap over in an attempt to stop me from firing any further, but a voice interrupted us.

“There’s no need for that sort of violence.” The gun vanished out of my hand. The man and woman were now standing behind us calmly waiting for us to turn around as if they hadn’t just been assaulted.

I was about to charge them head-on, but Eric grabbed me in a tight bear hug. “Let go of me you fucker!” I struggled to escape his grasp, but he was many times stronger than I was. “Eric, they need to pay for what they’ve done. They need to pay for destroying my life.” I continued to struggle but Eric was holding on tightly.

The woman walked up, a look of sadness and regret came over her as she looked at me struggling. “We’re sorry about what happened, Mitch. We really are.”

It was horrible, seeing these monsters act as if they gave a shit about what their actions had caused. I could still remember that day vividly. It only happened five years ago after all. Word got out in our hometown that I might be a powered. At the time, my parents and I lived in a very rural town in Michigan. A very conservative town. The rumor spread fast, as rumors tend to do in towns like that. A mob was soon formed, banging on our door wanting our lives for just being different.

Thanks to the actions of the powered terrorist group over the years, a very large following for powered hate had grown. We were and many still are all viewed as a public menace. My parents rushed my sister and me into our basement, told us to stay quiet, and locked the door behind us. The sounds of screaming, yelling, and fighting soon followed as the mob burst through our front door. It didn’t take long before the banging began on the basement door. I remember it so vividly, I was holding my hand over my sister’s mouth to keep her from screaming out. I wasn’t faring any better as I could feel my legs trembling in fear.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

A few minutes later, the mob burst into the basement and found the two of us curled up in the corner. My sister was dragged out first by her hair. Her screams still haunt me to this day. The mob all seemed so pleased with themselves. Like they were doing some form of good deed by ripping our family apart. It wasn’t until I was grabbed though, that my power burst out. It still is the strongest my powers have been. I could see each mind in our house. I had complete control over them. I remember this strange calm and clarity washing over me. I drug out hundreds of memories all at once. It ripped apart the minds of the mob, leaving some babbling mindlessly and others complete vegetables. My attacker had the same fate. He fell over a mumbling mess, his eyes glazed over as he lived through multiple memories, some his and some from the mob around him.

I stumbled up the steps of the basement and out into the front yard only to see my worst fears come to life. My mom, my dad, my sister, each had been shot in the back of the head. Their blood now splayed across the front of our house. I’m not sure why, but at the time I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel anything as I gathered up the bodies of the attackers and placed them inside the house. I didn’t feel a thing as I carefully placed each of my family members in the house as well. I carefully filled the house with lighter fluid and stood calmly outside as the flames began to rise.

I’ve had years to grieve now. Years to think of who is really to blame. What could cause such hatred in people that they would turn against a family that had done nothing wrong. The conclusion, the terrorist group that created nationwide fear of powereds in the first place. Those that killed hundreds of thousands in the California Tragedy. Those that continued to plague our country and society with acts of violence. They were the reason. They were the cause.

Eric, noticing I was just going to angrily stare at the two terrorists, continued the conversation. “I don’t think we are going to have much of a conversation with Mitch here.”

The woman sighed, “That’s a real shame. I think with time he will be able to come around to our way of thinking. Eric how about you and I continue this conversation somewhere a little calmer.” In a second both she and Eric had been teleported away. I had calmed down slightly to properly assess the situation. I was left with the red-eyed man. He was looking at me with the same sadness and regret I saw from Amanda.

“We really are sorry about what happened to your family, Mitch. That was out of our control.”

Out of your control!?” I was getting angry again, “Of course it was fucking out of your control. That doesn’t change the fact that your group and all the shitty things you have done over the years led to that moment. Killing innocent people, spreading hate, nothing can justify those actions. No seemingly good deed can make what you have done any better.”

The man disappeared from my line of sight, but he continued to talk to me, “There is much you do not know, Mitch. A war is coming despite our best efforts. I think, with time you will come to see our point of view. For the moment, we will give you time to consider our invitation. You are always welcome to our organization. Your power could help save millions.”

Before I could respond, I saw a glint of red as his presence fully vanished from the room leaving me alone in the rundown apartment, now with more questions than answers.