"James Timothy Mallory! Where do you think you're going?" Shouts the voice of James's mother, Grace Mallory. It's July 7, 1946 and the warm summer air constantly beckons James Mallory to follow it outside. He freezes at his front door, waiting for his mother's repremanding. But instead of threatening to ground him, since he was suppose to be cleaning the garage, James sees his mother pulling his little sister's, Carolina, red hair into a pony tail as they walk out of the hallway. "If you're going to go to the park, take your sister with you. She needs the fresh air as much as you do." Running his hands through his black hair, James moans. "Why, Mom? I was gonna go play a baseball game with Henry and Alex and some of their friends. Carry can't come, she'll ruin it." His mother staired back at him with a firm face, "James, you are 17 years old going on 18...you could at least not whine like a two year old. Now take your sister, enjoy this evening together." Carry squeels in delight, grabbing Jame's hand. "Yeah! Let's go Jimmy! We can swing on the swings, and slide down the slide, and...and--!" "No Carry, we won't be doing that. We're just going to play baseball, and you'll have ta watch. Ahhh...you're such a pain," The last part James uttered a little quieter, but not quiet enough, since his mother came stomping out of the kitchen, her pale face turning bright scarlet. "Now, you listen here James. I'll have none of that! You will take your sister and if she wants to swing on the swings than she can. Why, if your father were here, he most certainly--" "Dad's not here Mom! He hasn't been here for a whole year!" A still silence shook the atmosphere and immediatly James felt a sick guilt in his stomach. "Mom, I'm sorry...I-I didn't mean it." But instead of listening, Mrs. Mallory gently picked up Carry's hand and placed it back in James's. "Go on..go to the park." Instead of walking out the door, James touched his mother on the shoulder, "Mom..I really didn't mean it...I'm so sorry. I wish he was here too." Turning to face him, Mrs. Mallory hugged her son and gestured towards the door with her hand. "It's ok. Why, you probably've gotten the bad temper from me...nothin' to forgive. Now take your sister to the park." Turning slowly, James walked out the door, Caroline skipping behind him. By the time they were in full view of the park, James felt like hurling. Gee..how could I've been such a jerk..it's bad enough she cries herself to sleep... He sighed. His dad had joined the army three summers ago, and had never come back. His camp got bombed...or at least that's what the Mallory family was told. The reason he loved baseball so much was 'cause his dad had taught him everything he knew. They used to play in the backyard for hours... James's thoughts were interrupted by his seven-year old sister's voice as she looked up at him. "Jimmy...I want Dad back." James stopped walking. Aww great, now I'm gonna start cryin' in front of my friends...great. He knelt down in front of Carry and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I know Carry. We all do. But he's not comin' back...and we all know that. 'Member what me and Mom told you to do if ya started missn' him?" He small freckled face lit up. "Talk to him, you and Mama said talk to him. 'Cause he can still hear us from heaven even though we can't hear him from down here." James smiled. He was glad to get her mind off of that. "Yeah. Maybe you could tell Dad about the game while I play...so he don't miss nothin'." Carry giggled. "Yay! I'll do that! Daddy loves baseball!" In a flurry, she began bounding towards the field, only to stop a few feet later as she saw a group of tall boys walking towards her. Carry flew behind James's back and gripped his middle. James frowned. He reckognized Henry as the African American on the right, and Alex with the sandy colored hair on the left...but not the four guys behind them. They were all extreamly tall, making them appear to be at least twenty, if not more. One had bright red hair, not like Carry's, but redder...like a bloody color. The other three had black hair, but all of them had quite a bit of muscle on them. Where did Henry and Alex find these guys? The Mafia? But the more James overlooked them, the more he considered the possiblility. The red-haired guy spoke up first when the group was pretty close to James. "Awwww...lookey here. Your little buddy brought his sissy...maybe we can eat her if we get hungry." The other three muscle-bounds laughed as if it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard, but Henry and Alex remained stone-faced. Finally, Alex shoved an elbow back at them, "Hey, guys, knock it off. Poor guy gets enough grief already." Their laughing quieted to chuckles as Alex approached. James pulled him closer by his collar. "Who on earth are they? I thought you told me that you were bringing school friends, not gang members! Now I gotta take Carry home, thanks alot." He said in an excited whisper. One of the black haired boys raised his head and yelled, "Awwww...Chicken Little gonna run home now? Bac, bac, bac" He said, moving like a rooster. James blushed angrily. "Jimmy, I'm scared." He heard Carry's angel-like whisper as she faded behind James even farther. This had to stop. "Fine! I'll play your stupid game! One of you be the umpire and it'll be a three on three. Me and my friends win, you guys never show your butt-ugly faces near me or my sister again. You win..." James paused. He had to think creativly....but not dangerously. "You win...and you can give us all a swirly." He heard snickers from the three guys behind and then he gulped. Snap! They're so strong they'll probably have my head fused to the toilet by the time they're done...dang.... But he turned to his sister. She was shaking, even in the heat, from fear. Nobody picked on little Carry. The game began promisingly, as James's team was up to bat first. Alex was already on third base by the second hit, and Henry on first; a sure home-run was next. "Go Jimmy, GO!" Shouted Carry, waving her little hands around like pom-poms from the stands. "Go Jimmy go..." The red-haired umpire said in a girly voice. James gripped the bat as the one black haired boy pitched, smiling from his sister's cheers. Almost as if time had froze, James could see a sickening smile crack on the pitcher's face as he released. And then, time fast-forwarded. As if a bulldozer hit him, James grasped his chest, a sickening pain piercing right through. He felt himself falling backwards, staring into the faces of his horrified friends and screaming sister. He hit the dusty ground with a thud and the air left his lungs. Gasping and moaning in pain, James could barely hear Alex screaming, "James! James! I'm coming." Running his hand over his chest, looking for the mark left by the bulldozer, James's eyes widened as he looked down. Sticking out of his chest, was the rounded form of the basball, bloody and smeared. The red haired boy leaned over him, snickering. "Well, a swirly sounds nice...but I've got something better in mind for you...and your sissy." "N-n-n-no! L-l-l-leave h-her al-lone!" He managed to say. But the boy reached down with his hand, and with a sickening rip tore the baseball from his chest. He could feel the rip cage bones snap inward, his lungs were being sqeezed together, and in the last few seconds of consciousness, James heard himself crying. "I'm sorry Carry...I love you." The room was dark...too dark. A single, dim ceiling light creaked and sqeeled as it swung overhead. The light burned James's retinas and caued his eyes to water. Every inch of him felt like he was on fire. A gasp came from his dry and aching throat. Where was he? Then suddenly, a flashback shocked his mind. Baseball. Mom. Carry. Dad. Muscles. Homerun. Pitcher. Ball. Carry. James felt himself begin to hypervenilate, but in responce, started to couch blood, which trickled out his nose as well. "Carry..." He could barely say the name. A cold chuckle came from one of the dark corners to his left. The red-haired boy stepped out from the shadows, a broad grin plastered across his pale face. "Uncomfortable?" He said calmly. "You ought to be. You've got a mighty deep dent in that chest of yours...but we'll have that fixed...soon enough." His vision began to clear. He was in a small metal room. There was a one-way window on the wall beyond him, and he was on a metal-slab...no. An operating table. "Where is Carry?" James managed to yell, before spitting out more blood. "Oh, that little brat of yours? Don't worry, she's being...handled. But not to fear, she'll be joining us shortly, see?" He said, gesturing to another metal operating slab behind him. James's eyes were crazed, and confused. Who were these people? He looked up at the red-haired boy. "W-why are you doing this? What do you w-want?" He stuttered before hacking more blood, and some other junk from his lungs. Sliding onto the table, the red-head looked down at him, and for the first time, James realized his eyes were red. Blood-red. "Why are we doing this?" He repeated, "Because we need you James." The way he said the words "need" and "James" really made him wish that they'd just left him to die out on the baseball field. Something was terribly wrong. "We need you, because you're the perfect cantidate for the experiment." James's nostriles flared, causeing him to take in the blood-smell of the room and cough some more. Red-eyes chuckled. "You're probably wondering. Why me? Well, that's the simple part. You see, for a human, you're fairly good-looking, which means you'll look all the better when we're done. Also, because you have few family members, easily taken care of. And, you're at the perfect age so that you'll heal better. Now the hard part. Ya see, we've never transfered mental or elemental powers to a newborn before. Sooooo....that might be painful." Newborn? Experiment? Mental and elemental? This guys gotta be on crack... "Ohh. And I probably should mention that we're going to turn you into a vampire, but that part'll be easy. Your friends have already awoken from the process." Two, sharp fangs curled out over his bottom lip, and James felt himself losing consciousness again. "Don't worry..I'll wake you when it's over..." Was the last thing he heard, humanly anyway. For the next few hours, after being injected with vampire venom, James viewed his last human day through a thousand terrible nightmares...and in the process, wished he were truly dead....forever. Feeling himself awaken again, James prepared himself for another round of de ja' vu with red-head, only to find the experience all together different. The light, it was brighter, but his eyes weren't watering, he could actually make out the filiment in the bulb without blinking. Cool... James thought in a daze. "Good to see you're awake and enjoying the light bulb." Shock filled him and James struggled to turn around and see who was speaking, but couldn't. Looking down, he saw that he was strapped to the metal slab now, but that wasn't the only thing new. His chest was completely healed. "Yes, the venom healed your wound. So sorry my boys had to injure you like that James, but we could have you screaming for the whole neighborhood to see, now could we?" The voice had an English accent to it, and with its owner standing in front of him now, James saw that it belonged to an old man. A strong old man. He had his hair pulled back into a white ponytail, but underneath his long black coat, there were muscles. Scary muscles. Gripping James's throat, he looked into his eyes. "You James, are now a vampire. No, no, it's true. My name is Knight by the way, but you will address me as Sir, now that you serve me." A shreik came from James, "What? Your servant? Okay, I don't know who you are or what you think you'll acomplish by doing this, but your plain dumb, and I"ll beat you if you don't let me go. Now where is my si-" He froze. A burning sensation filled his throat, surprising him so much that he gasped. Knight noticed, smiling. "See, you are a vampire. What you feel is you being hungry. And the food you desire...is you sister. Bring dear Carry out Pyric. Her brother is dying to see her." Pyric, the red-head, wheeled Carry out on a metal table, James didn't see it, but he could hear it. My hearing is good! Knight spun the table around and propped it up. Carry was lying on the table, bruised and wide-eyed, with tear-trails staining her face. But even though James wanted to call to her, he was silenced by the burning which increased. "That young James, is your first meal." Sick with horror, but thrilled with hunger James screamed. "NO! Get her away from me! I will never hurt her!" Knight smiled. "Oh yes..you will." In a flash, he removed the straps holding James down, and the blood-driven boy hooked his teeth around his young sister's throat. In a battle of will and body, James's body was winning, untill he heard Carry scream. "Jiiiiimmmy! S-s-t-top! Ahhhh!" Immediatly, he dropped her from his mouth and screamed. Her trachea was hanging from her throat and her face was frozen in pain. "Jiiimmy! It hurts! Make it stop!" She cried. "I-I....I'm so sorry Carry....I love you." In the moments that followed, Carry's blood was drained from her body, and the burning sensation left James. "Good, good. Now we can begin," Knight said clapping as if he'd won a battle. Pyric and another vampire dragged the wailing form of James Mallory away from his sister's corpse into another room. "I hope you liked the last few moments you've had James Timothy Mallory. Because after this, you will no longer remember your human life, for you will be my servant, and that only." Were the last things James heard before darkness overcame him. Days and months passed before the man called Knight found that his creation was ready for testing. After a series of operations, his vampire servant now possesed the powers of telepathy, telekinesis, aquakinesis, pyrokinesis, and the heightened sences of a vampire. He was a super-soldier, doing whatever the will of Knight required. "What is your name?" asked Knight. "Psychosis." replied a new creation. "And who do you serve?" asked Knight again. "You master." Psychosis answered, mechanically. "Yes you do. And what is your first assignment?" A grin forms on Knight's face. "Kill the woman Grace Mallory." The name means nothing to him now, for he is a mindless slave, void of memories or feeling. Psychosis, a master of the mind and body who flew off into the night to find his target. In minutes, he arrived at his destination and quietly walked through the door, the moon casting his shadow into the living room. He hears a hear beat, but it's quickening. She's awake. A woman in a bath robe walks tirely into the living room, feeling blindly in the dark. "Hello? Oh, Jimmy is that you?" His dark form frieghtens her. She screams and he pounces on her, breaking her ribs. Howling in pain and looking into his cold, machine like face, she mutters in disbelief, "Jimmy?" A blinding light pierces his brain. A image of this woman hugging a black-haired boy burns into him, and he screams. An emotion enters his soul. Is it fear, fear of the image? Or curiosity? He can't deside. But for the first time in the months he'd been training with Knight, he knew what he wanted...freedom. "Jimmy?" the voice comes from the woman again and in a blind rage, he smashes her skull in with his fist, relieving himself of her pest-likeness. Grabbing his temples and rolling on the floor in misery, something creeps into Psychosis. Want. Realization. Anger. A conscious anger that he knows who is responsible for. Two hours later, fifty-five people died. Fifty-five dead people died. Psychosis returned to Knight's lair and rewarded its residence with what he thought they deserved. They had taken something from him. He couldn't deside, but he knew it was important...the only reason he was still alive...somewhat anyway. And for the rest of the time that he existed, Psychosis would serch for it, even if it meant reaching into the pit of Hell itself.
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