Unfortunately, this wasn’t a movie and that wasn’t happening. I felt numb. I felt sick. I still had to pee.
I was gripping the ground with my hands, trying to center myself, when black smoke poured out of the wound.
My final remnant, Thing One, the Death Experience guy, was attacking.
What crappy awful timing. I couldn’t run anywhere. Tyler wasn’t here to handle him. The House was still under attack and who knows how Bermuda was doing.
This was literally the worst time for Thing One to come out of hiding. I guess from his point of view, that was the point. This last remnant really scared me. He had the soul of an artist with the morals of a serial killer. He was creative and sadistic. That was a frightening combination.
When I think back to that night, my Waker Moment, I think of his face. I know there were three others in the room, and Thing Two was pretty awful, but Thing One is what I remember.
And now he was back to take his vengeance.
I had thought about this moment, about what I would do if he showed up and there was no one else to help me, and I had a plan. I centered myself and dove for my throne room.
I knew I couldn’t face him in the real world. He had crazy amounts of power and who knows what he would do to mess me up this time. My throne room, though, was my space. It was the seat of my power. It was my turf. Hopefully the hometown advantage would be enough.
The room looked good. The tiles on the floor were fixed and clean. The ceiling arched overhead, supported by strong wooden beams and the throne was now padded and decked out with engravings and even a bit of silverwork. It was still the throne room for a small kingdom, but now it was a reasonably prosperous kingdom.
The cot was gone. I didn’t need that any more. Instead, there was a huge steel pillar in the center of the room.
I ran up to the throne and sat on it just as smoke started gathering in the room. I let it come. I needed him here.
It crept in from the walls, the floor, and gathered in front of me. I sat there, gripping the arms of the throne, waiting to receive him. I tried to look regal and haughty, instead, I probably just looked constipated. It would have to do.
The smoke gathered, formed, and condensed into Thing One. With an effort of will, I sealed the room. Only one of us was walking out of this fight.
“I like this place,” Thing One looked around.
“It works for me,” I said. I gestured at the big steel beam in the middle of the room. “You came at a bad time. I was just remodeling.”
“Well, at least you staked your claim,” he said. Did he just throw a pun? “I would have come earlier but I had to wait until you were pinned down.”
“I like to steel away and come here when I can,” I said. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little on edge.” Two can play that game.
He chuckled. I chuckled. We chuckled together. This was not how I thought this would go. He seemed happy, even cheerful. He was not the vengeful spirit I thought he would be. At least, not yet.
“I confess. I made a mistake,” he said. Huh? “I was told you were a mundane, but when I saw you work a little magic I assumed you were already a supernatural. I didn’t realize our little teaching moment would result in you Waking Up.”
“By ‘teaching moment,’ you mean when you tortured me and tried to kill me?” I said.
He waved it off. “Supernatural life is tough, as you’ve found out. You have to be tougher.”
“So, all this was to make me tough?” I felt my anger rising. Dad had tried to make me tough too. He’d done everything he could to knock the gay out of me. When he couldn’t fix me, he’d kicked me out rather than have to look at his failure.
He didn’t realize that being tough is not about being macho. It’s about finding a way. A way to survive. A way to thrive. A way to be who you are and have it be ok that others are how they are. That’s being tough.
“It’s my gift.” He shrugged. “I found I was good at hurting people. I liked it. And you know what I found out?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“I found out I was good at helping people transition. Not everyone with potential has a Waker Moment, you know. They have to have that special few seconds, when their life is at stake, and it’s either live or die. That’s when they break through, summon their magic, and become a new supernatural. I’ve seen it a lot and it’s a beautiful thing. Of course, I have to end them right after that. Fresh sups are so helpless.”
I was flabbergasted. “I don’t understand,” I said. “Why would you go to the trouble of making a supernatural, someone who is supposed to live forever, only to kill them?”
He shrugged. “That’s the job. That’s what we did.”
“But why?” I said again. This made no kinda sense.
“Who knows?” he said. “Maybe baby sups taste good or something. People eat veal after all. Maybe you guys are nice and tender at the beginning and get tougher with age. That’s not something I worried about. We’d just collected the essence and passed it to our contact.”
“So, you killed for the money?” I asked. I was having trouble wrapping my head around this. Life had been busy, so I hadn’t really thought a lot about why that night had happened.
“Sure,” he said. “And why not? It was good money. Really good money. Isn’t that the definition of success? To do what you love and get well paid for it? It was the perfect career.”
While he talked, he wandered around my throne room, checking out the place and taking in the tapestries. Since he was in a talkative mood, I kept pumping him for information.
“So, who did you work for?” I asked. Someone had sent him after me. I needed to know who that was and why I was in their crosshairs. If they had sent his team after me, they many send another one.
“I really don’t know,” he said. “We had a contact but she wasn’t the one actually calling the shots. She was just relaying the information. We’d get a token that pointed toward our target, a general description of who they were, and if they were a supernatural already or needed turning. We’d also get a vial for the essence. After the job was done, we’d turn in the vial and get paid. Pretty simple really.”
So, they had a charm that night that led them to me. That’s why I couldn’t hide. That hotel room had looked just like all the others. It had been a shock when they found me. Now I knew how they had done it.
“What about the Fog of Jonah?” I asked. He was still talking so I’d keep asking. “Aren’t regular people supposed to forget about us?”
“We had a tattoo that took care of that,” he said. He showed me his upper arm, but it was just blank. “Ha. I forget I’m a remnant sometimes. Not everything comes with you. If it’s not part of your identity then it doesn’t come along for the ride.” He shrugged. “Not that I need it now anyway.”
He had now walked all the way around my throne room and checked everything out.
“Do you think whoever you worked for will send someone else after me?” I asked. This was the big question. Was I going to have to deal with a hit squad in my future?
“Maybe,” he said. “If they do, I’ll take care of them. They won’t be a problem.”
“What do you mean, you’ll take care of them?” I said. Was this guy planning on sticking around long term? I don’t think so. I wanted him out of my life.
He threw out his arms and twirled around like a happy little girl.
“This is my lucky day,” he sang ignoring me. “I wish there were a recording of this. Some way to share the moment. I feel like we need Champagne or something.”
He was making me nervous. This did not sound good. Whatever makes him happy was bound to make me unhappy.
He stopped twirling and faced me. “I guess since you’re here, you’ll have to do. See, there was another reason I did this job. There was a rumor, just a rumor mind you, that in some special situations a job would go south, and something would happen to the crew. Something special.”
He got the biggest grin on his face. “The rumor was that they would become remnants.”
“So, you wanted all this?” I said. I knew this guy was crazy. I just didn’t know how crazy. “I thought you would be out for vengeance or something. Instead you look happy.”
“That’s because I am happy,” he said. “I hit the lottery. I won the jackpot. Do you know how perfect this has been? I couldn’t ask for anything better.”
“So, what exactly is your plan?” I asked. I was nervous. I’d sealed off the room, but now I was thinking I’d locked myself in with a maniac.
“They did a test on me, you know. It said I would never be a supernatural. When I died, that was it. No Waker Moment for me. No special powers. No magic spells.
“When I first saw you, I wasn’t impressed. You seemed like a whiny skinny little boy who was wasting his life. You did a good job running, though. I’ll give you that. When you did a bit of magic, I thought for sure you were already a supernatural. That’s why I gave you the deluxe treatment. I wanted you to have a defining moment, one space in time, where you were really truly alive. That is my specialty after all.’
He bowed. “You’re welcome.”
I didn’t know what to say. I felt like I should say something. He was not finished yet, so I shut up and let him talk.
“Imagine my surprise when I woke up inside you! It was so unexpected. It took me a moment to get myself together and by then Tyler was here. I had always figured I could take care of whoever got sucked in with me, but he made it so easy. I just pushed them out and he destroyed them for me.”
“No more competition.” He made like he was dusting off his hands. “I liked my crew. They were almost as good as me, but this is now a solo journey.”
“The last part of the plan was to find your center, your place of power, and somehow get inside.” He made an expansive gesture at the room. “And here we are! Ta Da!”
That didn’t sound good at all. I thought this was my home turf. My place. But somehow he wanted to be here.
“I admit, you aren’t the supernatural I’d have chosen. Your powers are a bit too weak for me. I like to have more flair. Maybe throw a fireball or two. Still, you do have some potential. That matrix was genius.”
“Wait. You think you’re going to become me??” I said. I was flabbergasted. Who did this guy think he was? He couldn’t take me over. Could he?
“Of course!” he said. “I can’t be a super on my own, so you’re the next best thing. You’re not perfect, like I said, but beggars can’t be choosers as the old saying goes. Or, in this case, mortals can’t be choosers.”
He stopped and looked at me. “I never beg.” He suddenly looked very dangerous.
“I said that last step was to come here. But I guess really the last step is to let you go.” He started walking toward me with a panther like grace. It felt like he was stalking me.
I suddenly wanted to run.
“I can’t have you here, mucking things up.” He had almost reached me. I’d brought him here, now what was I going to do with him?
“This is my place,” I said as forcefully as I could. “You should be scared of me.”
He walked right up to me. Then faster than I could react, he slapped me.
I always thought a slap was a gentle sort of thing. Much more preferable to being hit by a fist. His slap, though, was hard. It spun my head around and rocked my world.
“I don’t think I have too much to fear,” he said. Then he grabbed me by my hair and threw me off the throne. “After all, I’m dealing with someone who got punched by a golem.”
I got to my feet. He punched me. “Golems are so slow.” He punched me again. “How can you not get out of the way of a piece of rock?”
I tried to block him, but that wasn’t working at all. “It’s a rock!” He seemed to be able to hit me at will. “This ain’t rocket science. If it’s stone and headed your way, duck!” He hit me with an uppercut and my feet left the ground. This guy could really punch.
I hit the ground and tried to shake it off.
“I’m not scared of you.” He sneered. I was still blinking my eyes and trying to see when he kicked me.
“You are weak.” He kicked me again. It spun me across the floor.
“You are slow.” I slammed into the wall.
“You whine.” He pinned me down with his knees.
“Your friends are weak.” He started raining blows down on me.
“You’re House is pathetic.” I tried to stop him.
“You are nothing.” He was shouting now.
“NOTHING!” He trapped my hands and pounded my face.
“NOTHING!”
I felt so small.
I was a little kid again. My house was a burnt husk. Dad was screaming at me.
I just stood there and cried.
I flashed forward to sixteen. Standing on the steps of my former home, now occupied by strangers. Being told that my Dad and my sister were no longer there.
They didn’t want me.
They had moved to get away from me. They couldn’t get rid of me quick enough.
I felt so small.
I flashed forward to now. Lying in bed. Face smashed in. Ribs broken.
Annabeth sitting with me. Tyler lying with me.
Showing up for the circle as the naked shaman. John laughing so hard he cried.
Dinner at Sandy’s with my friends.
Sandy doing my assessment and getting so excited about my magic.
Penny trilling at me and feeding me her power.
Little Bermuda on my pillow, all four paws in the air, purring as I rubbed his belly.
I was NOT small. I was loved. I was accepted.
This was MY magic.
This was MY place of power.
Thing One was using MY power, and that was going to stop right NOW!
I reached out to Thing One with my magic sight. I could see my emerald green and sapphire blue power inside him, giving him strength.
I reached out, and froze it.
Think One gasped and fell away. Without my power he looked gaunt. Like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
He staggered away. Barely enough energy to stand. My power was still there. Looking like a faceless mannequin. I absorbed it and stood up.
This wasn’t real life. I wasn’t actually hurt on a physical level so I healed myself.
No.
I transformed myself.
One moment I was looking like a guy who had taken a beating. The next, I was whole. Perfect in every way.
I looked at Thing One. I didn’t want to expel him like this. He still might get up to mischief. I didn’t want to keep him here either. That was just asking for trouble. I did have an idea, though.
I created two cylinders in the room. Then I walked up to Thing One. He gaped at me. Too shocked to speak.
I grabbed his left arm, and ripped it off. It felt spongy and barely solid. I took it over to the first cylinder and stuffed it inside.
The cylinder spun up, separating the little bit of magic remaining from the shadow that was left of Thing One’s essence. It ejected the ash into the second cylinder and I absorbed the pure magic.
I went back to Thing One, ripped off his right arm and did the same thing. He started wailing. I guess he wasn’t so tough after all.
I didn’t want to underestimate him either. He had been strong and powerful. He was still creative. He might come up with some way to turn this around.
Because of that, I didn’t even want his ashes together. I took the tiny bit of his arm essence and sealed it away in a small box.
Then I ripped off both his legs and did the same thing. What was left went in another small box. Finally, I tore him in half, like a piece of paper. I didn’t even want all of his head in the same box so I divided him lengthwise.
Thing One, the genesis of my supernatural journey and my nemesis for weeks now, was nothing but ash in four tiny boxes.
Later I would scatter hi
m to four different parts of the city. For now, it was good enough. My remnants, my personal poltergeists, were now gone.
I dismissed the cylinders and walked over to my throne. I sat down and looked around. This place was mine. All mine. I had fought for it, bled for it, and now conquered for it. There was still so much to do, but taking this moment felt important somehow.
This was my new normal.
I felt a ripple of power flow out from me. The throne room had looked good before, but now it sparkled. It looked beautiful. Brand spanking new!
I’d come a long way from the dusty run-down looking place I’d started with. This was good. Really good.
I wasn’t out of the woods yet. While the good vibes were flowing, I decided to tackle the sword sticking through me. My throne room seemed to reflect what was happening in real life, and I’m pretty sure my new giant metal pillar was representing the sword. Sandy had said that your place of power was a good area to work powerful magic. I wasn’t hurting in here so this was a good time to see what I could do.
I walked over to the steel pillar. It looked good from a distance, but up close it looked worn and faded. It didn’t shine, instead it was coated in layers of grime and rust. It looked like steel from a junkyard rather than a shiny powerful sword.
I put my hand on it. I was surprised to find it felt warm. I’d expected it to feel cold and hard.
I was pretty sure I’d heard something when the sword went through me. Was it awake and aware like Penny? Was this a magical sword?
I couldn’t tell. There was too much crud on the sword and I couldn’t get a good read. I tried to clean it off but the grime was thick. I thought it would stick to me too, but it was attached to the steel. Something seemed off about that so I looked closer.
I thought the film coating the sword was one layer. It was actually lots and lots of layers all stuck together. They were all different colors too, but mashed together, they just looked muddy brown or even black. What I had first taken as rust was actually red layers showing through.
This was reminding me of when I’d made Penny. She had been coated with layers of muddy colors too. There was a big difference, though. She had maybe a hundred layers. This sword had thousands. Still, the same solution could work here.
Misfit Mage Page 35
