He had started out as a little speck. For a while it had changed into a piece of mud, then a mess of long limbs and eyes. Now it was a small child with long and delicate hands.
He ran through the green woods, dancing between the trees. There was a viscous tiger to the north and a lion to the south, he had learned how to dodge them, playing with them like he was the cat and they the mouse, but now it was boring—too easy to dodge, and he knew all the woods too.
Crunch! He ate a grape from one of the vines. The Man in the sky had given him permission to eat of any tree in the green woods.
Not the fruits of the tree by the stream though, he told himself.
I'm sick of the Man in the sky. And his dumb rules.
But he went and dove into the stream anyway, and under the small bridge in the garden, heading towards the center of the woods.
He avoided the sitting ducks by the pond, he had tried playing with them, because when he did play with the ducks for too long, he turned into a fish, which he didn't like.
Then he'd be crushed by the ducks in an exaggerated blot of gore oozing out from under the pond.
Now, though, he had mastered the skill of flying through the water like a flying fish and diving back down to escape the ducks.
At the last step he flew and landed, and when he came to, he as standing on solid rock.
A Giant tree was by the stream and behind him, all the animals had gathered in a procession. As if waiting to witness something marvelous.
And the Man in the sky descended himself leaning his chin in his hands, looking at him.
"There is only one rule!" said the Man from the Sky, as he always did.
He pointed to the tree by the stream.
"You may eat of anything in the greenwoods, except the fruits of that tree of course."
"What would happen if I do?" asked the boy.
"Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die." said the Man from the Sky.
And then he turned and leaped back into the Sky.
The boy stood there for a while unsure of what to do.
Then a worm with a face in the likeness of man crawled up and spoke.
"The Man in the Sky is greedy. He has his own plans. Do not trust him. Eat of the left fruit, and you shall be as wise as him. Eat of the right fruit, and you shall be as powerful as he is."
And the boy tempted, took of the left fruit and ate it.
"What have ye done!!!" the Man in the Sky screamed!
"Leave!" he roared and the hurricanes stirred.
"Leave now before-"
The boy could scarcely make out what he was saying.
"Leave!"
Ulysses nearly screamed when he was suddenly woken by someone.
He sat upright and looked around, lost. His memory was still frozen at the scene with the withered man and the infusion of blood…and and and the screaming torment he felt.
Everything after that felt like a sleepless dream.
Ulysses instinctively lowered his head and checked his body for any bruises or cuts and found none. He even began kicking his feet to make sure they weren't paralyzed.
Bang! Someone whacked something hard on his head.
"Who the fuck." Ulysses looked up.
He saw a policeman wielding a baton. He only had a single chevron on his epaulet, the lowest-ranking police constable…
"Leave the parks"
Ulysses glanced at him to ascertain his identity.
The policeman said fiercely, "You can't sleep here!"
"These streets and parks aren't for you lazy, jobless vagrants to sleep in!"
Ulysses froze. He didn't argue with the policeman.
He grabbed his bag and continued walking until he found himself at the gate to his house.
The city was quiet, covered in the white blanket of snow.
"Huh?"
There was a rustle of leaves, and an owl and dove danced in the air above, wrestling prey from one another.
The Orange electrical light of the street lamps were beautifully complimenting, and there wasn't a soul outside for miles around.
He jumped the fence to the apartment building and crept around the back, until his hands found the remains of a metallic ladder.
He reached with his hand and grabbed the drainpipe, fingers slipping on wet metal, and began climbing.
Using the metal rods and knobs as footholds and handholds felt nostalgic. He hadn't done this in a long while.
He made sure not to wake any neighbors or catch their attention, shifting from side to side. Till he reached the fourth floor.
He was outside the dinning room window. The pale blue light of the TV set reflected from inside.
There was an image on the screen.
A wrecked plane, torn to shreds, some of the pieces were covered in red with blood, others blackened with sooth. The running text on the bottom read
'Rogue Beholder attack above the streets of Hold-52: 127 dead, 52 survivors. Two suspects apprehended, one on the loose.'
It was the air crash that happened a few days ago.
He spent some minutes there, looking, until he finally noticed a small red dot inside. It came from a figure sitting on a recliner, facing the television set.
It floated in the darkness, slightly shifting, and then was gone.
Someone was smoking in the living room. It didn't take a genius to know who it was.
I got to go before he–but Ulysses' thoughts were cut short when he heard a grunt, and a human growl from the window.
Then a human silhouette rose from the recliner in the sitting room. The one that someone was smoking in earlier.
"Who's there? Who's outside me window?" Silas' voice was still terrifyingly recognizable.
Ulysses panicked he didn't want to get caught. He tried reaching for another handhold, but his hand slipped and he lost his footing.
He panicked even more now, and put one foot on the wall, and He felt something slowly uncoiling in his mind.
Then he spread it through his body, enveloping it. It felt like water streaming down his skin, then it solidified in his hand and—
"Ack!"
Huh? He was hanging by the side of the building with one hand clutching a…. Clutching a crude dagger?
It was buried inside an old air conditioning unit.
Click! He heard the dining window open and a struggle and a curse.
He wasted no time reaching out and grabbing at another metallic railing.
His fingers found it fitting easily as he pulled himself on top of the unit.
Then he crouched on the old air conditioning unit.
"Damnation; cold wind's playing tricks on me." Silas grunted and closed the window. Click! He locked it.
Ulysses stayed there, on the old air conditioning unit. As silent as the night.
The icy winds were wicked and terrible up there.
After awhile he judged it was alright to move. And made his way to his room window.
It was locked shut.
Click
Then he managed to pick the lock with the dagger.
He opened the window and quickly crawled inside before quickly locking it quietly.
He dropped his bag by the side and laid on the bed for a few seconds.
The room was a mess.
Silas must have stormed in here when he didn't return home last night. Ulysses knew it.
Fantasy books and comics littered the floor, some were torn to pieces.
He held the crude dark dagger, and had an inkling on what it could be.
Without much thought or further ado, he threw the dagger with speed and precision.
Bam! It but deep into the dry wood wardrobe.
'Impressive.'
But now that the dagger was away from his touch, there was a noticeable strain on his mind as if trying to keep the dagger tangible…
"What if I?" without a much thought he released his hold on the dagger and it turned into sparks of light before disappearing into nothing.
"I guess I'm not normal now?"
He should be more impressed even jumping for joy, but it all felt surreal like he was in a dream.
A stream of sunlight flickered into room from the window.
It was the first light of dawn painting the eastern horizon in pale lilac.
Ulysses sighed, and sneaked into the bathroom in the corridor.
Leaning on the cold white sink with both hands, he slowly raised his head and met the gaze of a grim, exhausted boy staring back at him from the dirty mirror.
His gray eyes were lost, his skin pale, with his clothes were torn and filthy.
Dried blood crusted his face and dirty blonde hair.
He turned the water on and began scraping the blood, dirt and grime from his face.
Something must have happened in that cave. The blood transfusion and that shock must have done something to me. Made me a Beholder?
Suddenly he was elated. Excited even.
That would have been great news, he would turn up at the HC with his parents, and he'd be eligible for Hyper School. There he'd be trained to be a protector and he might even become a Knight. Mother and Father would have their ranks elevated to first. And maybe father wouldn't hate him anymore.
But something told him, that explaining how he became a Beholder would put him in deep trouble.
Especially with the nature of the Angel like man. And in all honesty, he was a bit scared.
Bang! His thoughts were interrupted.
"Lys!"
Footsteps pounded down the hallway, the heavy tread growing louder with each step. Ulysses felt a shiver and a burning sensation coming from his father's footsteps.
Then Silas was at the bathroom door, rage already twisting his face.
"Where have you been, you ungrateful boy!"
He stormed into the small bathroom, towering over the boy.
"Well? Speak up when I ask you a question!"
"I-I was–."
"Don't lie to me! I was once your age! I've played these games before!"
His father leaned in; the sharp acrid scent of his whiskey breath wafted into Ulysses' nostrils.
"Going out for parties with a bunch of druggies!"
Ulysses flinched back, but rough fingers clamped around his neck like a vise.
"You're nothing but a lazy ungrateful brat," the man snarled. "I'm going to beat some sense into you if I have to kill you to do it!"
He yanked Ulysses off his feet with one arm. With his free hand, he fumbled for his ornate buckle belt, but the belt wasn't on him.
"No dad! I was–"
"Shut up. Don't you dare raise your voice at me!"
A shove sent Ulysses stumbling face-first into the wall. slamming nose-first into the tiles.
Blood trickled from his nose, and in his terror, Ulysses found rage.
And he realized-he could kill him.
With his ability he could kill this man.
"Ungrateful... liar"
Silas mumbled under his breath as he stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous.
"Do you think I'm a fool? Do you think I'm a fucking fool?"
He stopped just in front of Ulysses, hesitating for a moment. As if noticing something in the boy's eyes.
Then he shook off his hesitation and stepped forward, repeating the same nasty drivel;
"Do you think I can't read you like an open book, fucker? I was once your age! I've played these tricks before."
Ulysses licked his lips, tasting blood, and then smiled.
Silas' eyes narrowed in brief confusion, then more in rage.
Then he swung. His fist crashed into Ulysses' face, snapping his head to the side and sending him stumbling into the bath tub.
The rage within Ulysses grew colder and furious. He was going to break this man. The ability was calling him. Whispering the idea of a hundred thousand knifes stabbing… no impaling Silas and tearing him limb from limb as he died slowly.
"Get up! You fucker!"
Silas' finger wrapped around his neck a second time.
He raised his fist to hit Ulysses again, and he inhaled deeply.
Ulysses smiled, he was ready to release his restrain, and turn Silas to gore and mush, Killing him.
But then he noticed something in his eyes, was it deceit or some familiar emotion?
"Your mother is hospitalized because of you! You ungrateful child!"
And Ulysses paused, the ability streaming off his body and losing its density.
Wham!
The second strike threw him against the tiles, he heard a crack and the fingers around his neck yanked him, and suddenly he was underwater.
What?
His father buried his head in the bath tub. Ulysses couldn't do anything. His hands reached out for anything. He tried to scream, but water rushed in, slamming into the back of his mouth and entering his wind pipe.
He couldn't even think well enough to try to use his ability.
Just when he was about to drown. His father pulled him out.
Cough cough!
Suddenly, someone was cradling him, and sobbing.
It was Father.
"I'm sorry Ulysses. I didn't mean to." He started sobbing "Val got sent to the ER because you didn't give her meds yesterday. You forced me. I didn't mean to!"
"If only you had just done what I told you to do, and be better. Not for me but for her."
Ulysses couldn't find his rage anymore. He looked down at his feet feeling disgusted.
"I-I just want you to have a better life than me." The man sobbed in anger, "And I don't want to see you wasting your time goofing off. 'Cause it'll ruin you like it ruined me."
Suddenly a hot lump formed in Ulysses' throat, and he gulped.
"You're sharper than I ever was at your age. Land yourself a good desk in the army, and you'll live longer 'n most."
How could he hate this man, when he just wanted the best for his son.
"I-I'm sorry."