I tore across town. My brain was clouded by everything that had happened, that was happening. It was me. Whoever it was, they were after me. Julie, Bill, dead. Now my family in danger, it was all my fault.
I don’t know how long it took to get to my ex-wife’s house. Probably minutes, it felt like hours. I came through the back door, hovering off the ground, trying not to make any noise. The house was quiet. Too quiet. My heart sank as I feared the worst.
Then I heard a sniffle from upstairs, followed by a short shush. I flew slowly up the stairs and into the hallway. I stopped outside the open door into my Son’s bedroom. A man stood, holding my son, smirking at me. A knife in his left hand, head shaved bald, a wife beater with a few drops of blood across the chest. Jailhouse tattoos covered his shoulders and arms.
“So, we meet again?” His voice was gritty, but held something familiar.
“Dad-“ My son pleaded, the man pushed the knife against his neck harder and stopped him.
“Do, do something.” My ex-wife stood in the corner, arms wrapped around our Daughter. Tears streamed down her face.
I must have looked puzzled. The Man’s eyes narrowed in frustration for a moment. Then, like a light bulb going off in his head, he smiled. It was the Devil’s smile. Smug and self-assured, evil. Small arcs of lightning crackled from his fingertips and leapt to my Son’s cheek.
“Jolt.”
“Now you remember?” Contempt leaked from his mouth. “Now you remember!? I was just a kid trying to get some clothes?” Anger flared in his eyes. “They sedated me for three months until they found a shot that would rob me of my powers. After that, it got worse. I was a soft kid in prison.”
I lifted a hand and took a step toward him.
“Don’t you move, you listen to me, you son of a bitch!” Ex-wife whimpered, son sobbed. “They passed me around like a piece of meat. Beat me, stuck me, raped me. Oh, I took it over and over again. It’s all your fault!” Red rage covered his tongue as he spoke. “I was just a kid trying to get clothes, look what you made me?! A killer!”
“I’m –I’m sorry, I didn’t..”
“Well you know now!” He cut me off, his temper rising, his eyes wide with death. “You’re never going to forget now! I killed your friend, your girlfriend, and now I’m going to kill your kid.” He pressed the blade tighter against my Son’s neck; blood trickled from a small cut.
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