Indigo City
The first signs that I'm in trouble have already passed me by. And by that I mean literally. LITERALLY they've already passed me by. Like... right by my legs. Half a dozen knives and forks have been flying at me from some psychopath wearing a tuxedo... and I'm going to be completely honest here... I'm having the time of my life. But maybe we should step back a few minutes.
A few minutes earlier...
"I'm the one guy you shouldn't tick off..." The man says, every single pointy object in the room shoots up towards me. "...and you've done just that." He growls.
"I have a habit for that." I tell him, before he can respond I send a blast of wind directly into his chest sending him flying backwards across the room. He smashes through the dining room table and ends up crashing against the marble wall. Everything he's levitating is still stuck in the same place. The guy takes a few seconds to stand up, it looks like he might have a few pieces of wood stuck through his suit... but it doesn't seem to faze him that much. "I also have a habit for knocking stupid morons like you on their a$$es!" Okay... that's kind of a lie right there. Out of the 5 fights I've been in with other Carriers I've won about... 2 of them. One was against a psychopathic businessman, I had that Koala guy helping me out with that one... and even then I still got my butt kicked. The other one was against that guy with the golden mask, that one went pretty well. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is... in the other 3 fights I've lost it's because I've mostly been going up against guys that seem slightly similar to this loser here. By that I mean, huge, bulky and probably insane... so I should probably try something different this time if I want to have any chance of winning.
"Looks like we have something in common." The steroid muncher mutters before sending every single piece of cutlery in the room straight towards me. For a second or two I'm rooted in spot, completely terrified, although strangely enough my life doesn't flash before my eyes, which I'm going to assume as a good sign. My feet return to life a moment later and before the knives can start tearing my skin apart I roll to the side. Unfortunately only one or two of those knives hit where I was standing... the others seem to curl in mid air and shoot straight after me. I dash away as fast as I can, several of the knives shooting directly into the floor by my feet before I realize something in my mind. Well... actually I don't realize it, the logical part of my brain realizes it... and since I rarely use that part of my mind it can't really be called a part of me. I realize that I'm fighting for my life here... and that it's highly possible I could die.
So why the hell am I trying to run away from him?!
The knives are right behind me now, but it doesn't matter in the slightest. I teleport out of the way and reappear right behind the man that's using these knives like a puppet master uses his strings. The psycho glances around in surprise looking for where I've disappeared too. The knives he's using twist as well. The second he turns towards me I do something I've never tried before. I manipulate the wind currents around my arm... and punch him directly in the face at full speed sending him tumbling to the side, a giant bruise forming on his cheek. The knives around him clatter to the floor... and my fist aches like hell.
"...ow..." I mutter as I shake my hand in pain. The knuckles are torn slightly... I can tell because the glove has been completely ripped apart. I try to make a fist only to feel an intense pain shooting up my wrist. "OW!" I bring my hand up to my chest and whimper slightly... before noticing the psycho staring at me with a look of confusion on his face.
"What the hell are you doing?" He asks. This kinda thing has been happening to me my WHOLE life! I punch someone and end up doing more damage to myself then the person I was trying to hit! I really need to start building up some kind of tolerance to pain. I mean... how are people supposed to take me seriously?!
"...shut up!" I yell at him before sending another blast of wind straight at him. This time he's more prepared for it, he straightens his posture pretty quickly and for a second it seems as though he's holding himself via telekinesis. The wind attack does pretty much nothing to him... well... nothing useful anyway. From the look in his eyes I'm going to assume all I've done is ticked him off.
"That's enough of that." He mutters. The table right next to me gets thrown straight at me. I teleport out of the way and grab a wooden chair that's been flung on its side before teleporting right behind this ba$tard and cracking him over the head with it. He doesn't seem to care... and before I can do anything he's gripped me by the throat and raised me into the air with ONE HAND! So you're probably thinking, "Oh. Okay. He can just teleport out of danger. It's no big deal." Problem with that kinda thinking is... well I need to concentrate to teleport. Something that's pretty hard to do when you're having the life drained out of your body. "You've already cost me my target tonight." He tells me. I can feel his eyes peering right into my mind. "So now... I'm going to cost you your life." The second he's finished giving his little speech I feel fire tearing through my brain. He's looking through my memories with zero concern for the damage he's doing... I see periods of my life in an instant. Meeting Mary for the first time... getting married... Daisy being born... the Great Impact... oh god. It's not the pain of having this man tearing through my mind... I'm remembering in extreme detail the worst periods of my life.
And then the pain stops. I cut back to the present day right around the point when I was getting beaten to death by that Assassin a few weeks ago... and the next thing I know I'm crouched on the floor trying to relearn my ability to breathe... and that's when I realize this guy is standing above me with a look of surprise on his face.
"Who... who the hell are y-" He starts to say before being interrupted by the sound of a couple dozen Security guards smashing into the Dining Room.
"FREEZE!" One of them yells. The psycho glances at them for a second before reentering my mind and forcing me to teleport the two of us out of that place. I blink and we reappear on my apartment's rooftop... all energy drained out of my body... and this man is standing above me with a look of complete and utter anger on his face.
"Your name..." He growls at me. "WHAT is your name?" I cough for a second before slowly sitting up. Thankfully my costume hasn't really been torn that much by this encounter. I pull my hood back showing my face to him. There's not much point in lying to him... he already knows who I am.
"My... my name's Mark." I tell him. "Mark Brooks." I'm about to stand up on my own when I notice something that catches me by surprise. The man's hand is right in front of my face offering to help me up. Slowly and carefully I take it and learn how to stand up again. The throbbing in my mind won't stop... but this guy doesn't seem to care about the damage he might have caused.
"Mark..." He mutters. The guy pulls his torn tie off and tosses it aside. "My name's Alexander. Alexander Wolffe." He pauses for dramatic effect.
"Is... is that supposed to mean something?" I ask.
"It will." He tells me. "You see, Mark..." He sighs slightly. "Damn it I'm not cut out for this..." He rubs his head. "I was there when your wife died."
Oh my god.
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