A Little Death Makes Life More Meaningful

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by Goopus, May 22, 2011.

  1. (Was watching Heroes and decided I'd write a story about the power I'd want to have. I'd use it a bit more.... selfishly than John.)

    Biloxi, Mississippi

    "Everything I touch dies," John said quietly.

    He stared at an ant crawling across the surface of the picnic table where he sat. John knew that he could reach out and touch the insect with his mind, and it would die. Life had once seemed so precious. John wished he could be normal again.

    He wasn't normal, though. He was a monster. Sometimes he couldn't control himself. He was dangerous.

    John looked around at the park where he sat. He remembered playing here as a boy. The grass had been well-tended and beautiful. Now it was black and dead. John had killed it.

    The click of a gun cocking came from behind him.

    John turned to see a man wearing horn-rimmed glasses standing there holding a pistol. A black man with strange, piercing eyes stood at his side.

    "This doesn't have to end badly, John," the man holding the pistol said calmly. "Come with us. We're here to help you."

    The pistol was aimed at John's chest.

    "If you'll let us."

    John smiled. He wasn't worried.

    "Do you know how many times I've tried to commit suicide with this power?" he asked. "Countless times. I failed."

    "You do not have to die," the strange black man urged. "We can help you control it."

    John's smile didn't waver.

    "No one can help me," he replied.

    He flicked his eyes towards the ant on the table. He touched it with his mind. The powers immediately took over. They flowed through the tiny creature's body until they found its life force. John closed his black eyes and the ant rolled onto its side and died.

    "It's that easy," he said softly as he opened his eyes. "I could kill this entire city at my leisure. The power boils inside my brain waiting to be released."

    He stood up from his seat at the table. The pistol followed his movement.

    "You can either shoot me..." he said softly as he gestured at the ant's corpse. "Or you can end up like that."

    The tall black man stepped closer.

    "Your powers will not work in my presence if I do not wish them to," he told John. "Come with us."

    John's eyes darkened further.

    "You underestimate my power," he whispered.

    He turned his gaze on a little girl playing on a swingset across the park.

    "No!" the man wearing the horn-rimmed glasses shouted. "Don't do this!"

    John's dead eyes turned back briefly to meet the gunman's gaze.

    "Shoot me," he said.

    He turned back to face the little girl and reached out to her with his mind. The man in the horn-rimmed glasses put four bullets in his chest. John dropped to the ground with a little sigh of exhaled breath.

    The tall black man knelt beside John.

    "We can't all be heroes," John told him through clenched teeth.

    "I am sorry," the black man replied.

    "For what?" John asked, and died.

    The man in the horn-rimmed glasses holstered his pistol and walked over to the little girl.

    "Don't worry," he told her as he beckoned for the black man to come over as well. "My friend will make you forget."

    He glanced at John's body.

    "I wish I could forget," he murmured.
     

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