Sooo.......... AaronDragon here again............. Fuck this chapter was long........ i hit well over 10,000 words with this one...... Blah i need sleep so badly now......
anyway this is the last chapter i'll be writing for a while, and thus you'll have to wait to see more of Nick.... of course you might end up liking one of the new MC's even better than Nick, so there is that glass half full outlook as well......
Oh, BTW this chapter earns the fictions mature tag, some pretty heavy shit goes down this time around...... lets just say that nick doesnt have the "Happiest" backstory in the world...... so yeah if you want to skip this chapter, than you'll miss out, but if your faint of heart and mind.... well.... i'm sure you'll be fine............
so i'll edit this some time when i'm not fighting off sleep...... Meh i edited it some, i probably still missed stuff but i'm not going through these 22 pages again...... it be readables now...... also a bit of a note, some changes were made to improve the story, so some edits were made to the prologue..... basically what you need to know is that each champion can now only be visited 1000 times by any and all Deia during the trial, instead of the prior every Deia gets 100 visits to use as they please mechanic we had before.... things would've been to hectic in future chapters if we kept that as it was......
here be the chapter:
ENJOY!!!!
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Nick
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When I entered the Rell family house I really wasn’t surprised to find that it was empty, it only made sense that it would be since it was only about 10am right now. Everyone who would normally be here when I came home around 6pm were either at work or school right now.
I didn't bother to take off my shoes at the door like the Rells usually insisted on, but just walked right in and made my way to the room on the first floor that had been mine for the past month or so. When I opened it up I got on my most prized possession, my computer and began to put my final affairs in order. There really wasn't all that much I needed to do really, I just had to send a final message to a handful of people that cared enough about me to be sad about my death and transfer all the earthly possessions of mine that actually had some value and mattered to someone I think deserved them.
As I logged into my online bank account to check the balance there I was once again surprised by how much writing and submitting storyboards and concept designs on the side could make a person.
I guess not having to pay taxes or take care of my basic financial living needs myself really let things accumulate since I started saving up three years ago… Well I guess I don’t really need to save up anymore, I figure just a 1000 dollars should do for what I need now…
I quickly opened up a new tab and googled the ticket site I had picked out on my way home, I had decided on a 11:30am train which should give me just enough time to finish up here, find an ATM, and get to the station and catch my train. I figured after that I could just hit up a few stores to buy what I had in mind for my revenge plan, and then use the leftover money to find someone able to kill me fairly painlessly and dispose of my body.
After I had purchased the ticket and was waiting for the order to process and be sent digitally to my phone, I opened up my email and began the fairly sad task of telling the few people who mattered to me that I was going to be dead by tomorrow. Each person got their own individual message since I felt it would be pretty insensitive to send them all the same message, but even though the messages were all different they all basically said the same thing. For the most part I kept things short, I said that it wasn’t their fault, that there really wasn’t anything they could have done to change this and they shouldn't blame themselves for what will happen, and that I wasn't doing this out of depression or anything, I just had something to do that couldn’t wait anymore and I felt that it would be for me to die after it was done doing it. I wrote that they would probably find out more if they watched the news covering the Denver area, but it was probably for the best they don't try looking into my death and that they should just remember me for who I was in life not in my final moments before death.
The only person who got more than that was a twelve year old code monkey that I had been working with for the last two years to develop and code my game. I knew she was only taking jobs like that because she was from a poor family and that was the only way she could help out, so I decided that she was the person who probably needed all my things of value the most. In a series of emails I wrote in all my personal information giving her all she would need to steal my identity if she wanted, gave her my bank account information, and attached all the relevant info on my game with all the ideas I had for it even including concepts for a possible sequel. I also sent her the copyright and trademark rights info I had for it after formally naming her as the rightful owner, and a note to please finish our project and not change too much and especially not the theme. I also asked if she could keep my name in the credits and maybe give me a small dedication note at the end of the game, she could just use the pen-name I worked under since my own name might be a little infamous after today.
In the middle of flooding her with emails she wrote me back a few times basically asking what the fuck I was doing and if I was really planning on killing myself or something, she always was quick to respond to my emails and updates it was what made working with her so easy. After I sent the last email with the information in it, I wrote her telling her to copy the things I sent her to someplace safe and then to delete the emails I sent, and that she should work fast to make the most out of my identity and financial information because fairly soon it would all be frozen and useless. I also told her goodbye and to make our game a huge success that knocks those big industry developers for a serious loop.
After that was done and sent I confirmed that my digital ticket had been sent to my phone and that my phone had a full battery. Confirming those things I cleared all history on my computer, wiped it’s hard drive, took it outside and hit it repeatedly with Tylor Rell’s little league metal baseball bat until I thought it was broken beyond all possible repair, and I put it in the grill that was in the backyard after moving the grill into the woods away from the housing division and lighting it.
After I had suitably erased any record on my end to the best of my ability, I left the woods and began making my way to the road to wait on the uber I called in. I knew that in this day and age where nothing was ever erased completely and where everything done online could be tracked fairly easily by anyone with some training, what I had just done was fairly meaningless, but I figured it should at least make things seem like the Rell family wasn’t involved at all and didn't know anything. That thought and the desire to not involve or get anyone else punished for something that I had decided to do solely on my own were all I need to go through with trashing my computer.
When I saw a car slowing down as it approached me, I let my mind begin to wonder back to ideas for my powers. I figured that my plans for revenge were already pretty much thought out and all I needed to do now was execute them, that left the rest of the time before I arrived in Denver to think things over about the future powers I would have in this new world Gaia.
As I got into the back seat of the car though one stray thought went through my mind.
...Hmm I wonder if I can get everything I’ll need from Walmart? This guy will probably have some tools, cleaning supplies, and cutlery somewhere in his house so I guess I can save some money by just making use of those too…
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I was standing in the front yard of an average sized white two story house holding two bags full of supplies and with a series of recording equipment in a newly purchased large duffel bag hanging from my shoulder, It had actually been fairly easy to find this place's exact location and address. I have no idea why people would ever put their personal information, schedule, and location on social media sites where anyone can get access to it, but I was grateful Jackson Slate was such an avid Facebook junkie.
In fact everything had gone pretty well so far: the train was on time and the long ride let me work out what I thought was the perfect power set and how they should work, Walmart had everything I could have wanted and no one gave me weird looks for buying so much duct tape, power tools, bungee cords, clay, recording equipment, and a big duffel bag once I said it was for the county science fair, and after some looking and asking around I was even able to find a guy working for the local organized crime group running things here and after paying him a few hundred dollars he kindly gave me the number of an underground doctor I now had an appointment with in a few hours at 2am tomorrow morning. Really I didn't even remotely expect things would go this well, but I guess when you aren't really concerned with the consequences or getting caught crime becomes pretty easy. That said I think the thing that worked out the best out of all that was how the long train ride let me refine and pick such perfect powers for myself, I even had enough time to consider all the advice I got from Entia and use that to consider how my powers should work even down to how I should activate and use them.
I already had an avid imagination and what I decided on where things I had pretty strong and structured concepts for: a mental ability that would let me read and manipulate the minds of others, a biological creation ability so that I could alter and heal my body as needed to survive for the full 1000 years as well as make various bio-weapons, and lastly an ability to read every language there was automatically and passively so that I could learn all I need to about that world and all its people and regions without having to rely on others for that knowledge or having to waste time to learn how to read them all. All of them were powers I felt went well with who I was, how I thought, and how I liked to operate as a person as well. The mental powers reflected my distrusting nature and assured me that I would have insight into and some power to influence those I would encounter in Gaia. The biological powers reflected my love of animals, desire to be able to control and alter my own biology so that I would be more normal looking, and the simple fact that the studies of Zoology, anatomy, and botany just fascinated me. Then there was the reading ability which I at first thought was fairly simple, but soon released could allow me to even read some secrets that might be hidden in the holy texts or what have you of Gaia that the Deia left there. I figured that those powers would certainly help me get a leg up on the other earthlings I’d be competing with there, especially the reading one since I was almost positive no one else would think of that as a type of power that would be so useful.
I guess I should check one last time to make sure he’s actually home before I get this show on the road, just in case…
I put down one of the bags in my hands and checked his Facebook page on my phone, his last post was just nine minutes ago and it was about how he was about to watch some Law and Order marathon all by himself again and how he misses having people around the house.
Really, why the fuck would people put this sort of stuff on the net where any person can find it? I can understand wanting to tell people about your life or whatever, but why does anyone think it’s a good idea to tell strangers on the internet where they live and where they are at certain times of day? People really can be pretty stupid… sometimes I wonder how the human race even managed to make it as far as we have…
I put away my phone, picked back up the bag full of duct tape and tools, and walked up to the door. I really wasn't sure how I was going to get him to let me in his house when I had this stuff, but I figured that the simplest way might be the best one in this case. I put down my bags and just rang the doorbell a few times, eventually I heard footsteps from behind the door and a voice call out.
“Fine, fine, I hear you so you stop ringing the damn bell!!! What do you want kid? I’m a bit busy at the moment so if you wouldn't mind…” (Jackson Slate)
I figured he was watching me through the peep-hole of the door since he called me kid, so I put on a tired smile and tried to act like a disgruntled delivery boy. People tended to open the door to accept deliveries they needed to sign for after all, even if those deliveries were poorly timed and annoying as shit.
“I’m sorry sir, but it seems there was a mix up at the office and a package that was supposed to be delivered last week never made it to you. They even called me up on my day off to deliver it to you today since everyone else was apparently out making their runs, I tell you UPS can be so unorganized sometimes it’s a wonder we get to deliver anything on time at all… Anyway I need you to sign for this package so I can get back to working on that new garage I’m installing today with my dad…” (Nick)
The door opened up and I got to see Jackson Slate in person for the first time in a decade, he was a balding heavy set man and he seemed to have gone grey since the day he adopted Sarah. Once I saw him my mind went into a state of hot fury that immediately calmed into a sort of calm and cold hatred. I was going to make sure that this man suffered horribly for what he did to Sarah, and I was going to make him admit to the world what he did before I sent him to whatever fucked up version of hell his soul will gravitate to when he dies.
“Yeah, yeah kid… I don't need your whole life story, just let me sign for this package and then go-AGGHHH!!!!!...” (Slate)
I kneed the man as hard in the groin as I could as I grabbed his robe and pulled him into a head-butt that had me seeing spots for a moment. He fell into his home and began rolling on the ground moaning in pain, when I saw that he wouldn't be getting up immediately I picked up my bags and stepped into the house shutting and locking the door behind me. I put the bags down in a corner near the door and rubbed at the bruise forming on my forehead, head-butts hurt like shit if you don't know the proper techniques to using them. After I made sure I wasn't bleeding from that stunt I dug through the bags for the bungee cords and duct tape, the bungee cords I found quickly but I started to panic a little when I couldn't find the rolls of duct tape I had bought. The bastard cupping his balls and muttering curses at me as he rolled on the floor wouldn't be down for long, and I wanted him safely tied up before I did anything else.
“Duct tape, duct tape, duct tape…. Huh, did it end up under all this other stuff? Maybe I actually put it in this bag? ...Oh fuck!!! I didn't leave it at the store did I!?!? Oh no, here it is under the purple playdoh, crisis avoided…” (Nick)
As I walked over to the man trying and failing to move into a kneeling position I heard what he was saying under his breath with his new nasally voice given to him courtesy of one broken and heavily bleeding nose.
“Imma ghill youth… Imma ghill youth, youth Bashferd…” (Slade)
Right before I knocked him into unconsciousness I allowed myself one quip, I just couldn't help myself really.
“Well, I might actually be a bastard for all I know, but I’ll actually be the one who’ll be killing you here asshole not the other way around. But I won’t kill you yet, no I won’t kill you until you suffer a whole fucking lot first…” (Slade)
I felt a smile form on my face as kicked him over and kicked him again on the back of his head. I was careful not to do it too hard though, I didn’t want to kill him or give him any brain damage that might mess with my plans for revenge. That said, I didn’t figure a mild concussion would mess with my plan all that much…
I flipped him over when he went still, checked his pulse, breathing rate, and the dilation of his pupils. He was alive and it seemed like no permanent damage was done, he was just out cold.
After a quick search of the house, to check even on the off chance that there was absolutely no one else in the house besides us, I began to tie him up. I had his hands up front where they could be seen, legs crossed to cut off circulation, arms tied to the torso to further restrict movement, and torso tied to a sturdyish looking swivel chair without arms I found upstairs during my check.
Yep this’ll work fine… Now I guess I just have to look for his Knives and any chemicals he might have… I guess I’ll check the kitchen first then work my way through the house, in a pinch I’m sure some cleaning products will work but it would be great if he had some pesticide or rat poison or something…
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I was just finishing up with the recording equipment’s set up in Slate's now redecorated living room when the man started to wake up. I ignored his groggy and pained mummers and grunts as I made sure the camera I set up on the tri-stand was recording ok and would upload videos correctly on Slade’s piece of shit MacBook. It seemed like everything would work as long I didn’t try to shoot anything live, luckily I didn’t plan to do that since a live broadcast would be taken down faster.
Now I think that everything is all nice and good, the last four test videos worked ok at least… Well, I guess that as long as I can condense the video file and send it to my phone it doesn’t really matter if this laptop is buggy as all hell…
“H-hey what happened to all my stuff? Wait, why does my face hurt so much? And why can’t I fucking MOVE!?!?” (Slate)
I turned around to see that the man tied up and bound to a swivel chair in the middle of this now mostly empty room with a mix of duct tape and bungee cords had not only regained consciousness but was also struggling to escape his bonds. I decided to stop fiddling with the recording equipment, plug in my phone so it could charge up its dying battery, and pick up the duffel bag that was now filled with all sorts of things I was able to find around the house and purchase at the local Walmart. As I walked into the man’s field of vision he started to struggle even harder and I felt a smile form on my face.
“Yeah sorry about moving all your shit around, I just felt it would be easier for me to do what I’m about to do to you if I wasn’t trying to constantly maneuver around your TV, couch and that glass table that was in the middle of the room for no reason…” (Nick)
The man’s entire face turned red with obvious fury and he seemed to be doing his best to kill me with his eyes. It was actually kinda funny how much it looked like his head was about to explode, and the fact that he had a bloody mustache and his nose was bent at a weird angle while being all puffy now just added to the hilarity of things to me. Maybe the look wouldn’t have been so funny if the man wasn’t who he was to me and currently so helpless that even a small child could deal with him with ease.
“You really are a dumbass, one scream from me and the neighbors will call the cops! Your ass is gonna rot in jail where I’m sure some dirty fucking convicts will enjoy fucking it day in and day out!” (Slate)
“Well thank you for that colorful picture you just painted for me, but I doubt that’s ever gonna happen. You see I’m not some idiot thief or burglar here to rob you, I’m here for one reason, and one reason alone: to kill you. There are just a few things that I wanted to do before we got to that killing part of tonight…” (Nick)
When I said that in a calm and conversational tone I saw the red drain from this man’s face as it became pale with fear. There was something about talking to someone with that calm and easygoing tone of voice while telling them that you were going to do bad things to them that always seemed to freak people out, I was glad to see I could pull it off just like those villains in the movies when I had to.
“I-I’ll scream…” (Slate)
I felt the smile grow on my face when I heard that, it was obvious that this asshole was hoping that pathetic threat would make me back off. Truthfully if I didn’t know better, his saying that may have made me just kill him on the spot out of fear of getting caught too early by a concerned neighbor. Luckily I did know better…
“Which won’t matter one bit since you so completely sound proofed this entire house…” (Nick)
I watched his face as whatever little spark of hope inside him died and he accepted his death as inevitable, it was one of the single most satisfying moments in my entire life.
“W-why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?” (Slate)
And just like that all of my satisfaction and good feelings were gone, all he had to do was talk and the cold hatred returned full force.
“What did you ever do to me personally? Nothing really, at least nothing physical anyway…” (Nick)
The man started to struggle all the more as he shouted at me.
“THEN WHY!?!?!?” (Slate)
“Simple, you abused, raped, and drove my best friend to suicide yet got away with it Scott-free since you had her diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic, dismissing her cries for help to others as merely her having some delusional episode. Even I couldn’t do anything to see you face justice from the law since the pictures she was able to send me weren’t considered admissible evidence, and believe me I checked...” (Nick)
I watched once again as his face went pale and he stopped struggling once again.
“Well, here’s the thing... When you adopted her, Sarah and I wrote emails back and forth to each other for a good few years until when I was ten she suddenly stopped writing back. At first I thought that it was just us naturally drifting apart, and after a couple years I figured she must have moved on and forgotten about me. I was fine with that, it’s hard to maintain a close friendship when you can’t even meet in person after all and no matter what she was still family to me, but then one day when I was fourteen I found an article online about her committing suicide. After seeing that I of course go back to check my oldest email address and I find one new message from her sent the day she jumped from the top of her school’s roof. Want to take a guess at what that email said?” (Nick)
The man was shaking his head and crying at this point, it was pitiful and disgusting to watch. This man had no reason to fucking cry while hearing this, he deserved what was coming to him plus ten times more. Even if it wasn’t morally or legally the right thing to do I would see that he got what I knew he deserved.
“It had her whole life story since she stopped writing me Slate, complete with some pictures as proof because she didn’t even think that I would BELIEVE her... ME!!!!! NICK, THE PERSON SHE FUCKING GREW UP WITH AND KEPT FROM TOTAL FUCKING ISOLATION FROM EVERYONE AROUND ME!!! SHE DIDN'T THINK I WOULD BELIEVE HER BECAUSE YOU MADE SURE NO ONE SHE KNEW HERE DID!!!!!” (Nick)
I was screaming at this man now, I had let the burning hot fury of years of hatred and regret slip through my calm control of hatred. After I realized what I was doing I cleared my throat and set down the duffel bag, I wasn’t going to give in to blind fury and let it ruin this situation and my plan. I took a deep breath and let it out as I reached into the bag and found what I wanted.
As I took out the tins of blue, purple, and green playdoh as well as the blowtorch I found in this house’s garage where I had also found all sorts of useful things that were now waiting in the bag. I set those things aside and took out the electric nail gun that shot the large four inch nails.
“Well I lost my cool for a bit there, how about I tell you a little story to make up for it, Jackson Slate?” (Nick)
“W-w-what?” (Slate)
I leaned up against the wall and turned on the nail gun, it was fairly easy to bring back a smile to my face when all I had to do was imagine using this on him like I would be in a few minutes.
“I’m going to tell you a little story, and I suggest you pay close attention because this little story’s ending involves you…
Our story begins with a lonely boy with white hair and red eyes who, even when he was very young, seemed to be avoided by everyone around him. The boy understood very early in his life the feeling of loneliness, none of the others his age would ever play with him even before they all learned to talk. By the age of three the boy had already taught himself to read to combat the loneliness that he felt all the time. While the other children played with each other the boy would read all sorts of things on the internet from the computer inside the orphanage where he lived. The boy’s pale skin was so sensitive that it would burn almost immediately in the sun so he couldn’t go outside to join the other children even if they wanted to play with him, though they made it clear he was not wanted in the least.
By the age of four the boy had taught himself many things and he had learned that his loneliness had given him a condition called depression. Luckily or unluckily that depression had faded early in life as the boy began to enjoy his solitude as a method for coping with his loneliness. He began venturing outside on cloudy days when the sun wouldn’t be out to burn his skin, but even then he didn’t play with the other children as they would avoid him and call him names like ‘demon eyes’ or ‘ghosty boy’. The boy had long grown used to this treatment and did not let it bother him, the mental and emotional damage their words or actions could cause him had long since been done and their treatment of him no longer hurt the boy.
The boy had resigned himself to living his entire life like that, but then things changed one overcast day when the boy was outside. A girl around the boy’s age walked up to him holding a stray cat, the boy recognized the girl as the newest addition to the orphanage. The girl talked to him, she told him that all people looked different in some way and that to animals all people look strange since they didn’t have fur and walked on only two legs. The girl was kind, and unlike the other children, and even the other adults, she was not unnerved by the boy’s unique condition and appearance. The boy and girl became friends quickly, the girl staying with the boy and playing with him when no one else would and the boy carefully listening to what the girl had to say whenever she worked up the courage and wanted to talk about something that mattered to her. It turned out the girl herself was very shy, but she felt she could talk with the boy. She shared that she used to live with an aunt before the aunt sent her to the orphanage, and that just like the boy she had never known her parents. The girl shared that she loved to play with animals, but that people scared her sometimes since they often said things that they didn’t actually mean. She told the boy that she liked him since he was a lot like her and that when he spoke she could tell that he meant what he said with all his heart. She told him that she could just tell that by the look on his face.
The girl was the kindest person the boy had ever met and she was also his first friend. In time she became his best friend as well. A year after they first met the boy and the girl still had not been adopted and they had decided that they would be each other’s new family. The boy and the girl grew up together, the boy teaching the girl about the things he would read and the girl teaching the boy what she would observe from the people around them. The two grew closer over the three odd years they were together, forming a bond of familial love stronger than any they had ever known before or imagined could be formed. The fact that the other children, the orphanage staff, and even those looking to adopt would be unnerved and disturbed by the boy’s looks and harsh serious features or by the fact the girl seemed to know what they were thinking just by watching them for a while didn't bother them. The two were happy because regardless of what others may have thought or said about them, they were happy because they knew that they always had a precious family member who would listen to their troubles and try to help them…” (Nick)
I looked up at the ceiling losing myself a bit in memories of the past, I hadn’t let myself think back on those days in a long while. It just made the pain from the hole inside my heart worse, but even with the pain those memories of a simpler and more innocent time in my life were very dear to me.
And by embracing this pain now before I achieve my revenge I can let the memories rest in peace with this life and not drag them with me into my next one to haunt me… It’s just a shame that facing the memories of the past and overcoming the pain that they bring me since I found out about Sarah’s death involves telling them to this piece of filth…
I sighed and looked down so that I met Slates with my own, I could tell from the way that he flinched and looked away that the look in my eyes probably terrified him. It was times like these that I was actually happy for my albinism and red eyes, I could truly live up to my childhood moniker of “Demon Eyes” at times like this. The sheer intimidation factor even a single glare from me and these eyes of mine carried was no small thing.
“Of course that all changed when a man came and adopted the girl. She didn’t like the look his face made when he looked at her, but neither the girl nor the boy could stop the adoption even when they tried to tell the orphanage staff about the way the man’s face would change. Neither the boy nor the girl were believed, and perhaps even if they were the adoption would have still gone through anyway since the orphanage was more than happy to be rid of the strange girl. Before the girl left, the boy taught her about email and how to keep in contact with him. The girl promised to write the boy every day, and after she left with the man she kept her promise often writing him more than ten times a day.
After the girl left the boy was sad, but he decided he would be happy for her since she seemed to enjoy her new life judging by her emails to him. Unfortunately when the girl was gone there was no one to collaborate the boy’s alibis for when he was blamed for something he didn’t do. It took only a week before the boy was sent away from the orphanage for allegedly setting a fire in an attempt to hurt on of the children, an act he never actually did. The boy was placed into the foster system at the age of seven and spent the next three years going between different foster families and schools until false rumors and accusations forced him to be sent somewhere new. The boy’s only solace during this time was talking with the girl through their daily emails.
That changed one day when the boy was ten years old and the girl stopped emailing the boy back. The boy was a little sad, but he figured that they must just be drifting apart as they now grew up away from each other. The boy was content as long as the girl was happy, even if she didn’t talk with him anymore. For the boy, the girl would always be his family, his true sister in all things but blood. The boy made peace with no longer talking with the girl after two months without a reply from the girl.
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The boy decided to try making new friends, not to replace the girl, because no one could do that, but just so that he could have others to talk to sometimes. It was hard but every so often the boy managed to make one or two, but he always seemed to lose touch with them when he was inevitably sent somewhere else to stay with a new foster family. The boy would repeat this process many times, all the while reading, learning, and researching more every day. Many times the boy would get in trouble for his looks or the rumors about him that seemed to worsen in content by the day the longer he stayed in one place, the boy had even gotten his first arrest on his record by the age of twelve because of false reports made to the police. Even still he excelled in his academics, going so far as to audit university courses online. The boy’s life was hard and rather unfair, but the boy was used to that life so it didn’t matter too much to him.
The boy’s life was like that for four years until, out of curiosity, he looked up the girl's school and found an article talking about the one year anniversary of the girl’s death on the school paper’s remembrance column. The boy was shocked and horrified, he couldn’t believe what he had found so he searched for the girl's public records only to confirm what the article said. After learning about the girl's death the boy fell into a deep depression that nearly destroyed him, but the boy didn’t let it. The boy found the email he used to use to contact the girl, and he saw that there was a new message that was sent on the same day she died.
The boy read the message and learned about how when the girl turned ten the man who adopted her began to abuse her sexually, and when she tried to write to the boy about it he hurt her and destroyed the computer. The girl went into detail about how the man had her diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic who had frequent delusions, and how she couldn’t convince anyone to help her. She was sent to a new school that would cater to her 'special needs' and was not allowed to access potential weapons she could use to harm herself or others, the girl was also denied access to the internet or electronics as, according to the man who adopted her, they would apparently cause her condition to deteriorate rapidly. The girl wrote about how she began hating her life, resenting everything and hating herself for that resentment. The girl said she couldn’t trust anyone to trust or believe her anymore, and even included blurred pictures of her body covered in bruises and bite marks in an attempt to at least have the boy believe her. The girl detailed how her life was made a living hell and that the only way to escape it now was to die. The girl wrote about how she was sending this message to the boy on a phone she stole from a teacher, and that she wouldn’t be able to write again because she had finally decided to escape what her life had become forever. The final line of the girl’s message was just ‘I’m so sorry Nick…’.
When the boy finished reading that message, two things happened. The boy stopped believing there was a God or any sort of order or meaning to this world, and the boy felt pure rage and hatred for the man who lead his best friend and only family through all this suffering until the girl thought the only means of escape was ending her life. The boy swore that he would have his revenge on the man, and began using the talents he had honed by designing a game he hoped would be his future as a way to earn money. The boy planned to save up enough money to hire a professional to torture the man who destroyed his family until the man was unable to even comprehend the concept of relief from agony, that was when the boy wanted the man to die, at that exact moment the man lost that most fundamental thing that made people human: hope.
Things didn’t quite turn out that way of course…” (Nick)
I stepped off the wall as I walked up to Slate and held his face so that he couldn’t look away from me.
“...And now the boy has grown up a whole lot more, learned a whole lot more, and nurtured all that rage, pain, and hatred a whole lot more. Today the boy came to kill the man himself and spent a long hour in Walmart picking out the tools to make the time before the man’s death as painful as possible…” (Nick)
“W-W-W-Walmart?” (Slate)
I felt the smile grow on my face as I patted Slate’s check.
“Yes, Walmart. That’s the end of the story Jackson Slate, any idea what comes next?” (Nick)
As the man opened his mouth to stutter out an answer to my question, I shot five nails into his foot and his response became a loud scream instead.
“RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!” (Slate)
Ah, that was even better than I imagined it would be… How could I have ever thought of giving this task to someone else? It’s so much better when I do it myself, that way I can watch him suffer and see the pain he’ll experience for myself… It doesn’t change what he did to Sarah, but knowing that he’s feeling just some of the pain and suffering she must have is all I can really ask for, even if his pain is of a different type…
“Sorry I didn’t actually care about your answer to that question, I have my own after all...
Here’s my answer slate: I’m going to hurt you, I’m going to inflict the greatest amount of pain I’m capable of on you while I do my utmost to keep you alive and conscious through it all. Then I’m going to have you tell the entire world what you did to Sarah by means of a recording, and when I’m satisfied with that recording I’m going to go back to hurting you until eventually my knowledge of anatomy and first aid aren’t enough to keep you alive anymore. Then I’m going to burn this place that was Sarah’s personal hell down to the ground and set fire to it's ashes, and as I go about my merry way after all that I’m going to upload that recording I made and all those sick fucking pictures and videos that were on that piece of shit computer of your's over there to the web and have it go viral. Sure it’ll get taken down but not before copies are made and spread everywhere, nothing ever gets removed from the internet after all…” (Nick)
The man tried to fight through his pained moans and tears to snarl at me, but the words came out as more of a whimper.
“W-w-what makes y-you think I’ll-l s-say any-ything?” (Slate)
Oh he doesn’t seem to get it does he? ...What a shame, I was hoping he would catch on to things faster than this…
I unloaded two more nails aiming carefully to skewer his left pinkie toe into the carpeted floor. As he went about screaming and cursing I went to where I had placed the playdoh and blow torch earlier.
“You know torture is really an art form, an art form with many different mediums. There are all sorts of ways to torture someone: verbally, mentally, physically, sexually, emotionally, spiritually, and many more that I won’t get into now. What you need to know is that the use of torture to extract information from someone is one of, if not the most delicate aspect of that art form. To do so the right way requires the torturer to have a certain clinical apathy towards their subject which allows them to best judge just the right point to push the subject towards to get that information. I myself don’t have that apathy…” (Nick)
I put down the nail gun and picked up the tin of purple playdoh, the blowtorch, and a hammer from the duffel bag. As I came back to Slate I crouched down and used to hammer to pry the nails out of his foot by force. Even as he screamed I put a decent coating of playdoh over his wounds and turned on the blowtorch, as I ran the blue flame of the blowtorch over the playdoh melting and hardening it to stop the bleeding I ignored the stench of burning flesh, chemicals, and the man's pained screams. When I was done with that I returned the rest of the tin of playdoh, the blowtorch, and the hammer, since I had a feeling I’d need it again soon, to that spot near the bag. Reaching into the bag again I picked out an electric drill, some butter knives and spoons, and a saw before standing in front of Slate again.
After he settled down and stopped screaming I began to speak again.
“As I said I don’t have that apathy, in fact I can’t even pretend to be apathetic towards you. All I have for you is sheer rage and unfathomable and endless hatred. I simply and utterly despise you, and so I decided to go with a far less delicate and precise method of torture. I’m going give you nothing but pain until the moment you decide to confess on camera, then you get a twenty minute break where I won’t be doing my utmost to outshine the torturer demons of hell while you talk about what you did on camera without lying. Then it’s back to me hurting you some more...
Since I’m sure at some point you’ll do anything just to have the pain stop, I’m sure you’ll confess sometime…” (Nick)
And until then I think I’ll start with the extremities before making my way to the eyes and tongue, then maybe a mix of amputation and flaying. I guess I'd start with the flaying BEFORE the amputating though if I want to maximize the pain he goes through… I guess he can also try some chemical cocktails after I get the recording of his confession, which I guess means he gets to keep his tongue and teeth till then too so he can speak… Huh, this torture stuff is actually pretty hard to work out an order for… it’s fun though, so I guess this is a labor of sweet revenge…
Slate just started whimpering as I turned on the drill and began moving it towards his right foot, the man had already pissed himself and judging by smell alone he may have shit himself too. It didn’t matter to me, that just meant I would have to burn some of the nastiness away with the blowtorch before I began working on the groin region. I had over four hours to work with after all, that should be plenty of time to wrap things up here and take a quick shower before heading out to make my appointment…
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I toweled myself off in the shower and reached for the new tee-shirt and jeans I got from Walmart out of one of the bags I brought up to the bathroom with me. I was using the bathroom that used to belong to Sarah since I refused to use that bastard’s, I was also doing my utmost best to not think about the horrible shit that probably happened to her in this room, but then again that was my mentality towards the whole house.
After I put on the clothes I looked at the picture of Sarah I kept in my wallet.
“It’s over Sarah, the one who hurt you and made your life into a living nightmare is dead now, and I have some new acquaintances I’m sure would be more than willing to send his soul to the worst afterlife there is before seeing it destroyed forever. There is no way he will ever hurt you again, no matter who or what you are now...” (Nick)
As I went down the stairs back to the first floor I looked down at the mess that used to be a living room. There was blood, burn marks, little chunks of meat that were once a human, and colorful melted splotches of playdoh, silly putty, and clay all over the walls and floors. There was even a fairly large piece of Slate’s small intestine still wrapped around the broken swivel chair he was once tied to and the ceiling fan.
I suppose I should be disturbed that I’m capable of this, shouldn’t I? I guess it wouldn’t be surprising for someone to vomit after seeing something like this… Man I hope any kids who click onto the video listen to my warning about the mature, disturbing, and gory nature of the video and how it’s not meant to be watched lightly…
Slate hadn’t been much more than a no eyed lump of talking gored flesh when he got to make his confession recording, I had already taken off everything below his waist at that point and was in a real race against blood loss to get things done, what I had first planned as a twenty minute video turned out to be more like four with about two minutes of ranting confessions from the man of the hour. Of course after the recording session was over I went back to torturing him to death, letting the thing that killed him in the end be the fan his intestine was attached to. I just tied one end of it to one of the ceiling fans blades while Slate was still alive and gurgling, then turned the fan on and went about spreading chemicals all around the house before I went up to take a shower.
Damn, I guess I really did make one hell of a mess here… Oh well, that won’t really be a problem soon…
As I looked around the house one last time I checked to make sure I had everything I needed, before I made this place go up in one big chemical fire.
Phone with the video and stuff on it ready for uploading online? Check… Wallet with my important pictures and enough money for uber? Well I only have a ten, but that should manage… No blood or other stains obvious enough to attract unwanted attention? None that I can tell… Lighter? Check… Shoes without any gore stuck to their tread? Um, I guess that little can be ignored… Alright I guess that’s all I need…
I took out the lighter and walked to the doorway of the house, I had dowsed this place in so many flammable and combustible chemicals before going up to take my shower that there was no way anything would be left standing besides a pile of burning ashes when the fire department arrived in response to my call a few minutes from now.
As I opened the door and walked out into the cool autumn night air I flicked on the lighter and tossed it into the house and into the puddle of lighter fluid I poured out to make a trail to some of the more volatile and flammable chemicals deeper inside the house. As I put my hands into my pockets and walked away I felt a smile form on my face as the night suddenly got a lot brighter around this neighborhood.
Now I just make it the few blocks to where the uber driver should be picking me up, and then I tell a nice underground doctor to kill me painlessly in exchange for harvesting all of my organs…
As I moved further away from the now burning house and the growing sound of sirens in the distance, I took out my phone. I figured now was as good a time as any, and I uploaded the video and files to YouTube and every major social media site under dummy accounts I had made on my train ride earlier today. All it took was a few taps with my thumb and I had cleared the name of my best friend, informed the world of the person responsible for her death, and confessed to felony assault and first degree murder.
Yesterday was a fairly good day all told, it might even be in the running for the best day of my life designation… But I still think the day I met Sarah wins out by just a little more…
I looked up at the night sky with the stars and moon hanging in it and wondered what it meant that I knew who those celestial things belonged to now. My life had certainly taken one hell of a loop in the last day, but now that life was going to end. It was kinda weird to think about how in less than an hour I wouldn’t be Nickoli Lewet anymore.
With that one thought, all my reservations and doubts surfaced and my feet stopped moving. Logically I knew it was already too late to second guess myself, I had taken a serious overdose of pills an hour ago that would kill someone with my size and metabolism in about two more hours. I figured it would be a good insurance policy just in case the illegal doctor decided to just put me in a coma to keep my organs fresh instead of killing me like I wanted, and even if I wussed out of dying a painless death at the syringe of some illegal doctor there was nothing I could do now to stop my upcoming system shutdown and organ failure. I knew all that rationally but my body still refused to move forward to my death, at this rate my organs wouldn’t be worth harvesting by the time I worked up the courage to meet this doctor.
I looked down, closed my eyes, and let out a deep breath.
“I guess it’s probably best if I don’t think about it… Yeah, just don’t think about it Nick, I mean you just tortured someone to death so killing yourself should be nothing right?” (Nick)
I let the memory of Jackson Slate’s torturous and painful death fill my mind and lift my spirits until I felt I was ready to go through with this without any more delays.
I opened my eyes and looked up just in time to see what I think was a fire truck heading right towards me doing at least 60 miles per hour. I had time for just one thought before the mass of fast moving steel crashed into me.
...Does this count as a suicide if I’m the one who called the fire department?
The next things I knew were darkness, immense pain, snapping and cracking noises, and the loss of feeling everywhere…
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I had no idea where I was or what was going on around me as I couldn’t see anything besides this weird aurora looking stuff that was everywhere. All I knew was it felt like something was carrying me and I was moving in a specific direction.
That was when I heard their voices.
“Well this is a nice and well-ordered power set, isn’t it Lunaria? I gave Nick some basic advice and what does the kid do? He comes up with THESE!!! I’m just gonna say it again, I TOLD YOU HE WAS THE PERFECT CHOICE FOR OUR CHAMPION!!!” (Entia)
“So do you think we should wipe his memories?” (Oros)
“Bro if you even THINK about touching Nick’s memories before I’m able to pry all of his earthly experiences and the secret details of his game idea out of him, I’ll fight you…” (Entia)
“...Your sure serious about that aren't you? Fine, no wiping his memories then...” (Oros)
“Yes well, we still need to engrave these powers into his soul permanently, so if you two could focus on the task at hand please... Oros, you can go first. Which power do you want to be the one to give him?” (Lunaria)
“Hmm, I think I’ll take this one… This seems like it can be used for combat...” (Oros)
“I’ll take the reading one! Ah, it’s nice to think that we found a champion who actually thinks ahead enough to pick a power like this. It seems simple but it is so perfect I can barely believe a mortal was the one to think of it, really it boggles the mind. Oh clever!!! Nick here even tried to pull one over on all the Deia with this one… I declare here and now that I get dibs on his soul! So says the goddess of knowledge and clarity, so shall it be! End of story. It’s obvious to me now that we were meant for each other…” (Entia)
“Calm down little sister, we already discussed how claiming ‘dibs’ on this soul was not allowed… I suppose I shall give him this other power then...
Now then, hold still Nickoli Lewet’s soul. This might end up being fairly painful…” (Lunaria)
I tried to speak or even think back a response to them, but nothing seemed to get through. All I could do was wait and feel this sort of tickling sensation move all over my body or soul or whatever it was i had now. I had no idea how long it was before the sensations ended, but when it did I heard Entia’s voice again.
“Alright Nick, you’re going to be reincarnating soon. Lunaria and Oros have already gone ahead to ensure there are no complications with your new vessels birth, but I stuck around to give you some advice. As a champion chosen by the Deia, you now have this sort of interface system that reflects you and your being. Everything is fairly intuitive and instinctual, so you should be able to access it just by will kinda like how you made the triggers to your two non-passive powers. I suggest you check that out as soon as you can to figure out the details of your ‘Stats’ currently… Ah, shit… I’m really pushing the time limit here… Ok, last thing Nick and this is important! We’ll only be able to directly contact you a set number of times so other than that you’re on your own! Now good luck wit-...” (Entia)
Entia’s voice faded away as I felt a falling sensation. When I realized what was happening I felt a hard smack right to my lower back and ass. I made a yelping noise as my eyes flew upon and were met with these sort of semi-transparent screens filling my vision.
Absolution of the MindThe mental ability to passively read, know, and explore the minds, thoughts, and feelings of creatures with a certain level of intelligence. With active use triggered by express will and desire you can also manipulate and theoretically even directly control the mind(s) of your target(s) in a multitude of ways, though you must first either have their permission either subconscious or conscious or else overcome any mental resistance they may have to use this active ability. {Caution all forms of life have some sort of mental shielding, no matter how weak or insignificant that shielding may seem.}There is no set limit or requirement for this abilities use, but continual use of the active abilities without time for rest or recovery will accumulate mental pain inside of you and if you continue to use your power even then the pain will continue to grow until it becomes to much for you to bare or you cease to use your powers.
Lesser Harbinger of Life (Biological)The production/creation ability to actively shape, design, manipulate, alter, and create biological lifeforms triggered by your will and desire to do so. All designs, manipulations, and alterations will take place in a mental-scape known as a Forge of Life meant solely for this purpose which will allow you to use your will, intent, desires, and imagination to create and shape your lifeform. The use of this ability will require intense and devoted focus in the design/alteration/manipulation stage as well as a certain amount of life energy for your lifeforms to actually be created after design. {Caution you will be vastly unaware of your outside surroundings while you are in the Forge of Life and thus vulnerable to attack. Intense stimulus such as loud noise or pain will forcibly remove your consciousness from your Forge of Life.}This power is limited by your understanding of biology and the amount of life energy you can provide without doing serious harm to yourself, thus limiting what you may design/alter and create respectively. Also due to your mortal soul you shall be unable to ever create: higher life forms, beings capable of magic, beings with a soul {Thus any race of people}, or anything that exceeds a certain level of biological complexity {For reference this level is that of a complex mammals such as cattle.}.
Scholar of All (Mortal)The passive ability to comprehensively read any language with full understanding of the words meanings and significances. This ability does not require mastery or training as it is inherently maximized, but it also does not extend to any spoken language or writing yourself.This ability is limited by your Mortal soul and does not pertain to the writings of none mortal beings. {Nice try though Nick, maybe one day you’ll get to read all about the secrets of the Deia… Till then no sneak peeking the higher texts of the Deia for you!!!}.
[table]
Blessing of Lunaria, goddess of the moonAs one loved and blessed by Lunaria during the full moon your physical and mental abilities are enhanced greatly. Your eyes will also change their color to reflect this power being born inside of you until the full moon fades from your view in the dawn sky. Full solar eclipses shall see your abilities enhanced to an even greater extent than full moons and the effects shall last for an elongated period of time.Blessing of Oros, god of the nightAs one loved and blessed by Oros you shall never fear the night and your body will require far less sleep than a normal human. You will be comfortable during the night, almost to the extent of being nocturnal, and when under the cover of night’s darkness you shall be far harder to detect or track as the night itself shall help to conceal all signs of your presence. Due to this blessing during the day you will be far less energetic than you might normally be otherwise.
Blessing of Entia, goddess of starlightAs one loved {More than big bro and sis Nick!!! Remember that when you make the big decision!!!} and blessed by Entia you shall be able to see by the light of the stars as easily as you would by day in the light of the sun. This blessing will only have an effect in places that are touched by the light of the stars.
After I read them I looked at them and wondered how to make them go away, when I did that they suddenly just vanished out of my view and I was meet with the smiling face of a tall 30ish year old man with a shaved chin, dark black hair, forest green eyes, and defined features coupled with a hawk like nose. He bounced me a few times and said something that was essentially gibberish to me before handing me over to a beautiful woman who looked to be in her mid 20’s. The woman had a kind dignified face with soft but defined features, beautiful cobalt blue eyes, and long purplish violet hair.
She was also holding me up to her tit and I felt an overwhelming need to latch on and start sucking like my life depended on it, and not in the sexual way I would have expected from an almost eighteen year old straight guy. The rumbling coming from my stomach was the only warning I got as I suddenly found myself drinking something creamy and sweet. After I was able to pry myself away and detach myself from this woman’s breast I looked around the room.
It looked like a fairly well furnished bedroom with a mix of wooden furniture and what looked like a stone floor. The bed the woman holding me was laying in was huge, and I could see that there were a few people dressed in matching dark colored outfits hovering outside the half open wooden door across the room. That coupled with the decorated and engraved wooden furniture lead me to believe that these people were probably not having any money problems, just like what I had asked for.
...Ok, so this is reincarnation… And I guess these are my parents? Cool, I have parents now! Although that baby feeding instinct thing might take some getting used to... Now then, Entia said something about checking my “stats” as soon as I could, but how do I…
Another semi-transparent screen appeared in front of me.
Name: Nickolas NightingaleClass: N/ATitles:First born son (Nightingale family)Health: FairMana: (100%)Stamina: Full (rested)Soul level: MortalPhysical Status:Soul Status (non-deteriorating):NormalBlessed, Powered, ReincarnatedBlessings: 3 (Limit 30)Deia Patrons: 3 (no limit)Powers: 3 (limit: 3)Followers: 0Strength (Physical): 1Endurance (Physical): 1Dexterity (Physical): 1Agility (Physical): 1Mana Pool Size: 10Mental Resistance: 1,000,000Life Energy: 10Forge of Life (Time Limit): ???
...Oh, well that was easy… and I guess when I want it to go away, I just…
And by just willing the screen to fade away, it did and my vision was back to its normal unimpeded view.
The people I was almost positive were my new birth parents, something I still wasn’t used to thinking about, seemed to be talking excitedly amongst each other. The man I was sure was my new father put his finger into my hand and my hand closed out of reflex, after that I couldn’t get it to open again even when I tried my best to. There was even more excited talking that I couldn’t understand, and then something weird started to happen.
Suddenly my mind was being flooded with extremely strong feelings that I knew weren’t mine. I sensed joy, excitement, love, pride, exhaustion, loyalty, hunger, and what seemed like mild annoyance all flooding me from all directions. It was just too much for me, I couldn’t even tell what was coming from where or how I could make this stop. I felt myself start to retreat inside my own mind to try escape the sensations, and my vision began to fade to black.
My last sight was the smiling faces of the two people I had decided were without a doubt my new parents…
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so yeah that was long as shit.......... i think that was like 22 pages right there..... good Sally, why do i do this to myself? ...... Oh yeah, the comments of fans singing my praises..... duh, how'd i forget that......
So did this chapter change how you viewed Nick as a character? be honest now...........
anyway that's all i got, and a'll you'll get from me for a while for this story..... i might be back in a week or so, but imma let everyone else get 2-3 chapters out and posted to counter balance the 3+a prologue i wrote..... gotta keep those story arks linked after all......
blah.... i know i'm gonna stay up waiting for the first comment now...... someone do the OCD Author a solid and just post a comment fast, ok? i don't want to still be waiting here at 4am..... without having my rest....... and not letting the creative juices refill...... that's bad for everybody.....
do that comment, rate, review (You actually should have enough content to review with now.... at least a basic one....), follow, favorite, and share....... spread the word of this story whose name really should be Throne of All (my option), yet the poll has miraculously not yet given me permission to dub it thus....... spread the love and help grow the community and fan-base....
:sleepy: [th_0gotas.gif]
Aarondragon out...... gonna sleep now.... hopefully..... Sally i hope someone comments soon......