Lightning without Thunder

The Hanged Man

It has been several months since the concert.

I am sitting in a small room inside the courthouse. In the centre of the room is a wooden table with six chairs. The wooden walls are decorated with paintings and other boring wall stuff. I notice some decorations have been removed. I wonder if they are still removing every magnetic object they can find before they let me in the room.

My court-appointed lawyer sits to my left. He's an older man with greying hair. He has done his best to defend me, but there is only so much he can do given the incriminating evidence against me.

My court-appointed guardian sits to the right of me. My mother refused to support me, so she and the judge decided that a foster parent would temporarily take over her parents' rights.

My foster mother has been nice, which is a big step up from my mother, but I don't think she truly believes me. She can't believe I used to have superpowers. It feels like she is just humouring me.

Having said that, I still don't know why my powers are still gone. I expected them to return, but nothing has happened so far. On the other hand, my hearing is still impaired. It appears that Ilost out on both fronts.

In front of me sits the prosecutor, a woman in her late twenties with long blond hair and blue eyes. She drops a large file on the table.

"Do you understand the terms of the deal?"

The lawyer responds. "I have discussed all of the details with Marissa. We both believe it is best to accept the terms of the agreement.

"Very well." She says. "If you can sign on each page, both you and your guardian, then we can proceed."

I grab the pen and look at the papers in front of me. "I am not crazy." I mutter.

The prosecutor looks up. "Did you say something?"

"Yeah," I say. "You all think I'm crazy. That is what this paper is about. To avoid going to prison, I agree to be locked up in a mental institution for an undetermined amount of time.

The lawyer grabs my hand and says, "Marissa, I doubt you'll get a better deal than this. That said, if you change your mind, I will respect your decision, as will the court. You do not have to sign if you do not want to. We can cancel this and get you a different deal."

I look over to my foster mother. "What do you think?"

She sighs. "Marissa, this is serious. I still believe you aren't a bad person; you simply need help. I'd hate to see you sent to prison."

I shake my head and push the stack of papers away. "No, I will not sign. I'd rather go to prison than be locked up in a loony bin like a crazy person."

The prosecutor looks at me. "Marissa, understand this. If you accept this deal, you might go free one day. While if we take this to court, you will get life in prison, and you will never set foot outside those walls again."

My lawyer interrupts. "My client made it clear that she does not want your deal. So give me a different deal, or we'll go to trial."

The prosecutor gathers her papers. "Very well."

They handcuff me and lead me back to my cell. My cell is small; it can barely fit a bed and a toilet.

The walls are white, and the bed sheets are orange, matching my outfit. I'm not allowed to decorate my cell, so the walls are boringly white. They don't even let me have a mirror.

The lock and bars on my doors used to be steel, but they were replaced by custom made titanium locks when I moved here. The entire facility has been retrofitted to keep me inside.

I've told them that my powers don't work, but they don't seem to believe me. However, given my previous escape, I don't blame them for taking every precaution possible.

I set up some pillows to make my bed into a makeshift couch and sit on it, leaning against the wall.

I close my eyes and draw a deep breath. Then I hear a voice.

"Hello Marissa."

I jump on my feet, and open my eyes. Mephistopheles is standing in front of me.

I look into his red, burning eyes. "Why don't my powers work?"

The demon raises an eyebrow. "Good evening to you too. Have we skipped all pleasantries?"

I shake my head. "Please just tell me."

The demon smiles. "Your powers stopped functioning once you achieved your goal. Congratulations. It looks like all your hard work paid off."

I sit back against the stone wall, fighting back tears. "What exactly do you mean?" I'll probably spend the rest of my life in jail. withering away. Forgotten."

Mephistopheles laughs. "Well, what were you expecting? You shot a well-known and beloved musician. In front of an audience of thousands. What did you think would happen?

I shake my head. "That was in self defence."

"Was it?" The demon raises an eyebrow.

I stutter. "He would have killed me. With his song."

Mephistopheles shakes his head and laughs. "No, he wouldn't have. His powers would have stopped working right there and then, just like yours have. He was completely harmless."

He smirks, and smoke escapes from his mouth. "It is funny, though. I never had two clients fulfil their goals so close to each other. I think it was within seconds."

I try to press my body against the wall to make myself smaller. The room is spinning, and I feel like the walls are closing in on me.

"No, no, no, no, no." I exclaim.

I gather my thoughts and look up at him. "You have to get me out of here. I'll do anything."

"I told you before." He smirks. "You only get one deal. No amendments. No redrafts. No second deals. Only one."

I stand up and look him in the eyes. "But you've just taken away my powers. And you still did not fulfil your end of the bargain!"

He laughs manically. His mouth emits black smoke, and his eyes well up with red tears. He laughs for more than a minute before calming down again.

"You will be remembered by all. As the crazy girl who murdered the beloved Dragon. Future law students will review your case. Psychology professors will use you as an example. Your name will reverberate through history. The Mighty Dragonslayer."

I stare at him, at a loss for words.

"That is what you wanted, isn't it?" He says. "Being famous." Known. Remembered."

I throw my pillow at him. "You tricked me!"

He laughs. "I did warn you. Hell, I told you even." He thinks for a moment. "What were my exact words? Ah right. 'Only ask for the thing you truly desire, otherwise, you will have regrets.'"

I sit back down. Defeated.

"You know," Mephistopheles added. "Had you just asked for what you actually wanted, all of this might have been avoided."

I shake my head, not even caring anymore about holding back my tears. "What do you mean. What was I supposed to ask for?"

He snickers. "You want your Mom to actually love you."

I sit back and cross my arms. "No, I do not."

"You can lie to me all you want, but at least don't lie to yourself."

I tilt my head. "Hypothetically, if I would have asked for that, what powers would you have granted me?"

The demon laughs. "I would have declined the contract. I might be an ancient, almost omnipotent being. But some things even I can't make happen."

I scoff. "Are the fairytales true then? You can't wish for love."

"Many people have wished for love and achieved it with my help. Human emotions are one of the easiest things to manipulate." Mephistopheles replies. "It's just the specifics. Your mom, specifically." He overpronounces the last word. "Is incapable of loving." He points at me. "You!"