"I came because I've spent my whole life in the company of the brother that I hated. Now I want a chance to know the brother that I love, before it's too late, before we're not children anymore."
~ Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game)
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Time seemed to slow down as the man's hand reared back and brought the knife towards Sherry in a dawdling, scathing arc. Warren's own head was spinning with a fear he didn't even know he could feel.
But when his ears caught the frightened cry of Sherry, something inside of him snapped.
What was he doing? He was Wrath! He brought disaster, not this baldie in steroids!
That sudden realisation made him scream in rage and pounce over the man. Startled at the abrupt attack, the man stumbled back and fell, Warren wriggling over him, trying to get his hands on the knife. But the man was quicker and stronger. He kicked Warren away as if he were a mere doll.
The force of the push was too much for his skinny child's body and Warren found himself sailing through the air and over the parapet of the rooftop. He shrieked in fear as he barely caught himself on the railing, hanging on to it for dear life. He heard Sherry yell, "NO! Warren!"
Sweat beading his forehead and his heartbeat going haywire, he chanced a look below. Big mistake.
The ground was way below him and if his grasp slipped, he'd be but a splattered messy omelette of muscles and bones with his blood as jus. Yum.
Oh, Goodness help him, he was fantasizing his own death.
Grunting, he slowly pulled himself up, ignoring the fear clamming up his throat and landed on the terrace, panting hard. He was relieved to find that Sherry was up on her feet and weakly defending herself from the man, using her powers to make him stumble or roll over. But she could only continue that for so long without tiring.
A vicarious anger suddenly clouded Warren's mind, a rage he had never felt before. And he found himself doing something he had promised he would never do.
Being Wrath, his abilities tended to be scarier than his brethrens. Even he was unsure of their extents or their limitations. But a long time ago, when he was younger and more willing to experiment, he had discovered something within himself – a darker side that scared him even today. He ended up hurting someone close to him. The worst part was he didn't even feel bad, not for a long time, at least.
He thought he had locked away that power.
But, now, as he watched the man overcome Sherry's powers and brandish the knife again, something made him recall that side. He closed his eyes, sweat beading his forehead, and thrust out his trembling hands.
The man paused suddenly, going still as a statue.
He wasn't doing it willingly of course. No, it was all Warren.
Warren gasped as he felt himself gain control over the man. He felt the man's body around himself, like a transparent blanket. Yet, he could only feel the man's physicality, not his...thoughts, like he was supposed to. He couldn't feel the man's feelings.
The man seemed to be a callous, unthinking shell. But when Warren dared to dig deeper, risking whatever sanity remained of the guy, he felt something --- something foreign inside the man's head, something that didn't belong there. Something...scary.
And then Warren realised, with a paralysing fear seizing him, that he wasn't the only one possessing the man.
The guy, still frozen in place, turned around his head to look at Warren, his neck twisting with a sickening crack as it bent unnaturally. A chilling smile curled his lips.
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Miracle
Fantasy[COMPLETE] Twelve-year-old Blue was a dreamer and a believer of all things impossible. But even her all-encompassing imagination could never have thought that miracles were not just something that happened. No, how was she to know that Miracle was a...
