Rumors

“Oh man, were do I start” Jason told the therapist. The therapist, a very professional looking man, was looking slightly downwards as he pondered were the young teenage boy should start. “I think it’s of the utmost importance that we get this supernatural power thing out of the way before anything, Start from the beginning” concluded the therapist. Jason rolled his eyes and begun telling his story.
         
Well, it all started in history 3rd Period. For some unusual reason I’m the only person who seems to enjoy the subject. That was when I received the note. It just glided onto my paper. It came in from the left so unexpectantly, gliding from left to right until it finally settled onto my paper. I picked it up and read it. It said “We know you’re a fag!” I didn’t expect anything of it and I just laughed it off. Putting it into my pocket, I didn’t expect anything of it then, but that was soon to be regretted. I looked around looking for the wise guy who threw the paper. Everyone seemed to be a suspect; they were all looking at me smiling as if they had just caught the Pope looking at hardcore porn. I shook my head and got back to my work. The oblivious teacher turned around smiling. “Anyone finished yet?” asked the teacher politely. My hand shot up. Mine was the only one in the sea of busy students.
Later that day I raced off to Dill, that wasn’t his actual name, but no-one knew who his real name was so he was just called Dill. “Hey Dill” I huffed.
“I thought I told you to stop putting my entire being and existence under one title” he mused.
He was always saying things like that. He was the most unusual person in the school, he had a floppy double chin that flapped around as he turned his head, and he had a wide ribcage .I showed him the note and he looked at it intensely. His eyes were so focused and intense that I could swear that the paper would set to fire at any second. He laughed and shrugged “looks like you foolish normal’s have created another rumor amongst yourselves”.
“Yeah yeah I get it, what I wanna know is who wrote it” I nagged.
He looked back down onto the paper and started staring at it. His eyes showed disappointment as he furrowed his brow. “Urr, it would appear that this has been written by a group of mortals”.
“What? How” I demanded
“It looks like several human hands have taken part in the writing of this piece of lore”. Before I could ask who a band of 3 boys came laughing as they walked up to me. At the head of the gang was a blonde haired boy.

“Umm, could I just interrupt you there” asked the therapist. Jason stopped mid sentence and realized how dry his tongue was. “Yeah sure, I could use some water anyway” he said as he grabbed a glass of water from a nearby bedside table. “How exactly does this relate to the case at hand?” he asked. Jason stopped gulping the water and looked up thoughtfully. “It’s not related exactly, but indirectly” he explained. The therapist nodded, not understanding a word of what he just said.

“So, was Blake correct in his highly educated observation or was he not?” demanded Blake. Blake was a horrible prick of a boy who liked to think that he was the top dog and acted like it. He had an annoying habit of talking in the 3rd person. “What the hell are you talking about” I demanded.
“My letter, I had everyone contribute a word of it in their own handwriting so that I could show you the support I have.”
“So you are the wretched mortal that has fabricated this lie from the lich king himself!” recited Dill.
“Quiet you! Only Blake can talk in this amusingly apparent scenario” he gleamed. I couldn’t help but wonder if he even knew how to construct a proper sentence. He always seemed to be spouting words at random, just so he could make himself seem smarter than other people.

“Can we just get to the point?” The therapist demanded. He seemed angry and bored now. A bit like a cranky baby. “Well this part is kind of important, it shows what he is truly capable of”.
“Oh yeah, like what, making rumors?” he mocked
“Were you even listening? He never makes rumors! I said so myself” Jason argued. The therapist slapped his head and wiped it down his face comically. It had been a long night and explaining the supernatural powers of someone who was more senile than sane isn’t something you can properly explain without a fully fledged story. “Continue, but just skip ahead to the good part” demanded the therapist.

So it turned out that Blake started the rumor, no surprise there. I was with Dill in his workshop as he did his work. It was pretty incredible, not only could he identify fingerprints from memory but he could also do complex equations in seconds. He was working at full speed; I was helping him out by handing him tools and such. “So uh, why does this matter to you so much?” I asked him. “Because, he’s not right, he keeps spurting out random facets of information” he stated.
“And uh, why does this matter, he’s a prick so what” I stated. He was always exaggerating things like this. He was a smart guy I had to admit, but he didn’t seem to have a proper grip on reality. He still at times thought that he was Thrall, the leader of the orcs from Warcraft, at random times. And at other times he belived he was some other video game or novel character. He read and played so much; he lived in his own fantasy world and never seemed to have a proper grip on reality. He finally declared that he was finished. So uh, what did you make?” I asked politely.  He pulled away a tablecloth revealing something alarming.

“Well, what is it?” yelled the therapist. Jason stared at him blankly.
“I was getting to that part” fumed Jason

There sitting on the bench was a large broadsword. “FROSTMANE!” he declared. I looked with a bored face at the Warcraft replica. “Right, umm, ok, so what exactly are you going to do with this?” A smile crossed his face “I’m going to slay an evil power!” he declared.
The next morning at school word of my apparent homosexuality had spread like wildfire. Everyone was talking about me behind my back as I walked. It was like a Mexican wave. A couple of idiots decided to be smart and made a few random comments teasing me. I opened up my locker at B12, the same place it had been since last year. As I opened it a note fluttered out. I read it. It said “You are the one who has been torturing people in the school lately”. I looked at it with confusion, I wonder what it meant.

The therapist looked at Jason with a frown on his face. “When did you get this?”
“That’s the thing, I got it before the murder” I said

I was sitting in Math’s when it happened. I was tired and I fell asleep. That’s when I heard the scream. Everyone ran to the source of the scream. Lying on the ground was a teacher, blood was pouring out of her back. On the floor next to her lay Frost mane, covered in blood. Dill? Could he really have done this?
The Police did their work throughout the night. Taping up the school, there was no school for a week. No-one could go to school knowing that a murder had taken place there.  I went straight to Dill’s house to check up on him. He seemed in distress. “Who could have touched my beloved blade!” he screamed sweating. I stood there with a bored look on my face as he scattered around the room searching for his blade or clues or, ummm. What was he looking for? I stepped into the room. “Umm, it’s not here you know, the blade is at-“
“I know it’s at the school, what I want to know is who took it from here and if there is any evidence!” he screamed, eyes blazing. I looked at him and thought to myself that it couldn’t be humble Dill who killed the English teacher, he loved English. Dill was still searching frantically until he found a not eon the ground. He picked it up and read it, as he did so his eyes grew wide and he handed the note over to me. On it the note said “One week from now tragic event will occur killing thousands of people”. I looked at it had the same handwriting as the last 2 notes, mixed. At that moment a knock was at the door. I walked over to the door and saw two police officers there. “Hmm, are you Jason?” the smaller one asked. I nodded, but before I could ask what was going on they handcuffed me and walked me over to the car. It turned out that I was being arrested for murder.

“And you were surprised?” asked the therapist. His tone of voice was that of a father speaking with a child. “Yes, because I did not kill him!” Jason shouted, leaving the therapist staring at him blankly. “I see, so were do these supernatural powers fit in again?” he stared at Jason with a compassionate look on his face. He felt sorry for the poor traumatized boy. “You don’t understand, it was Blake! Don’t you get it?” He pleaded. The straight jacket wrapped around the manic teenager was covered in the boy’s feces. The dank cell was depressing; it was no wonder this poor boy was going crazy. “Then…… after they threw me into the cell, I figured it out! Those were Blake and his goon’s handwriting. He has the ability to alter reality by writing it down”. The therapist nodded and smiled. He was just nodding, agreeing to whatever he said. The poor boy was obviously deluded. Dill, his parents, a school, he just couldn’t cope with the truth. The therapist put his hand onto Jason’s shoulder. “I think you need to realize that this Dill person, this Blake kid, this whole life, it’s just a del-“
“Quiet! Shut up!” Jason cried. The therapist nodded sadly, this one was going to have to be put down, it was a failed project.
As the therapist left the room Jason smiled as he noticed a dropped pen, now his plan could come into effect. But first he had to remember what happened to the note. He inched his way towards the pen and picked it up with his teeth. He then used it to tear through his straight jacket. The therapist used an unusual pen that kind of looked like a traditional fountain pen.  After breaking out he started to think. Now were could I have put that note.

Inside the police car I was reading the note, remembering where the handwriting came from.  Blake and his 2 friends had slanted writing just like this. I read the note in full to make sure I fully understood what was going to happen. “One week from now a tragic event will occur killing thousands of people, but you won’t be around to see it, soon, after the police capture you for murdering that English teacher, you will start to lose your sanity. Then, as you are rotting away in some insane asylum, nobody will believe you or a single thing you say. Meanwhile everything will come together. And after that Blake will be God”. Looking at the note I realized that these notes must have had the ability to alter reality. That was the only explanation. I must have killed the English teacher without realizing it. The murder was at night, the same night that Dill lost his sword and the same night that mom claimed that I wasn’t in my bed all night. The notes change reality. Soon I arrived at the police station and everything on me was confiscated. Including the note. I watched as the cop stowed it away in a safe. Then I was put into a cell for the night. That night, then, I couldn’t remember anything. All I could remember was a man coming in and. Crap that must be it. My memory, they changed it, but how?

Jason hid in the corner, pen in hand, ready to strike. The Therapist returned with a syringe. “Jason? I need to give you a….injection; everything will be alright after that”. Before he could react, Jason pounced. The Therapist fell under Jason’s weight and hit the ground. His glasses scattered away. Jason plunged the pen into his chest, it snapped, no good. The therapist pushed Jason off of him with surprising strength.  He then grabbed the Syringe and plunged it into the boy’s heart directly. Jason grabbed it and the two were immediately engaged in a bitter struggle. Jason started to panic as the Syringe neared his chest. He then got a sudden rush of adrenaline and propelled the Therapist upwards. The man flew in the air over Jason’s head and landed face up, his entire body in was flipped from Jason’s position. Jason, having snatched the Syringe from the therapist. Rolled over and jumped up. The therapist got up but as he did so Jason kicked him in the head. Nearly knocking him out. Another heavily armed guard stormed in. Still full of adrenaline he raced at the man and plunged the syringe into his chest, killing him. He then picked up his gun and stormed out. He snuck a look at a nearby clock as he ran; he had 5 hours before the tragic thing happened, whatever it was.
He raced to the police station running as fast as he could. He pulled out his gun and instinctively shot everyone inside. There were more cops coming, Jason knew, so he ran with what little adrenaline powered energy he had left. He shot the safe and it blew open.  He leapt inside and started looking around for the small piece of paper. He found it and grabbed at it. Gunshots hissed near his ear and he grabbed the safe and shut it.

“Godammit you let him escape! Another one, gone!” yelled the Director. “I’m sorry sir but it was inevitable, especially after what happened with the last two” said a senior scientist. The panel of 5 scientists and 3 guards were standing in front of the director’s desk. “I don’t want to lose anymore men, you got that!” yelled the young man. The Director was a young man in his 20’s, he was young but he had already started a successful pharmaceuticals company. “Please, boss, containing these test subjects is incredibly difficult.” Complained one of the guards. “Indeed it is, we were lucky that the alternator from before didn’t destroy us” complained another of the guards. “Containing these subjects is far too risky, we need to cancel this project immediately” said one of the scientists. The Director shook his head and frowned. “Maybe the alternator was a catastrophe, but it’s probably integrated with normal society by now, it would have lost its greed and sadistic behavior.” One of the guards sighed and shook his head “that’s only and assumption, although its possible that it wrote down on the note that he would have a family”. One of the scientists looked interested. Soon his eyes lit up and he spoke “wait, the directors right, he would have been taken in by a family, all he would have to do is alter the note we wrote with him”. The Director looked at him and nodded for him to go on. “Okay, we know that the alternator we made needs to have more than one other person writing with him for reality to change, but we wrote it in pencil with him, he could have rubbed out sections and made it say completely different things” he said. The Director smiled and asked for the scientist to recall what the note that they wrote with the alternator said. “I believe it said, May all children living in poverty be freed of hunger and disease forever while being accepted into normal society, however it’s possible that he changed that”
“How?” asked the director, listening intently. The Scientist, on a roll now, went to a white board and wrote down what the note said. He then wrote the note again underneath the first version, but this one with blank spaces “May _____ living in poverty be _______ and____________ while being accepted into normal society”. He then wrote another version under that one with the blank spaces filled in and a bit added at the end. “May Blake living in poverty be cared for and have a family while being accepted into normal society as if it were always like that”. The scientist’s colleagues laughed at the wording for a while before realizing that he had a point. “So he can change what’s already been written” asked the director. “Yes, and I’m sure he’s found friends that could help him write up more notes”. The Director listened and understood. “This makes perfect sense, I mean, all he’s doing by writing these notes is transmitting the message to everyone worldwide, by making everyone think and act like it’s a fact, it eventually comes true.” explained the Director.
         “And I think we know how to find him” said one of the guards, understanding the Scientists line of thought.

         Jason grabbed the safe and shut it closed. He then grabbed the paper and looked at it. “One week from now a tragic event will occur killing thousands of people, but you won’t be around to see it, soon, after the police capture you for murdering that English teacher, you will start to lose your sanity. Then, as you are rotting away in some insane asylum, nobody will believe you or a single thing you say. Meanwhile everything will come together. And after that Blake will be God”. Blake stared at the note intently looking for a way to change as few words as possible to make the note say something completely different. He grabbed the pen he got from the therapist; ready to change a few of the words. But he then realized that the tip was broken and discarded it.
         The 5 policemen smashed down the door and immediately started shooting at the first thing they saw, Jason. Jason looked in shock at the barrage of bullets flying at him. The bullets flew at Jason but as they neared him the bullets began to slow down, just as they neared Blake they stopped suddenly and dropped to the ground. Jason looked as stunned as the Policemen as the hail of bullets rained down around him. Policemen lunged at Jason with a baton, but as he did so, Jason instinctively pulled up his hand and the policemen’s face collided with his hand. The 4 remaining policemen ran for their lives.
         As Jason ran out of the station he grabbed a pen and a rubber from a nearby desk.

         Jason ran straight for a safe secluded spot were he would be safe. He noticed a dumpster and hid behind it. Jason stared at the paper before him. The majority of it was in Blake’s handwriting, including the words killing, people and God. Jason didn’t want to change anything that had already happened out of fear that it would either not work, or time would go backwards. And he didn’t want to change anything that Blake had already written out of fear that it would not work. However he did see one thing that he could change. Jason rubbed out a word and then swiftly replaced it with another. Now all he had to do was protect the note until the tragedy, whatever it was, happened.
         
         The large platoon of guards ran towards the police station, looking for Jason. The tracking device in his hand was showing the exact location of were the bug planted by the therapist was. Hopefully it was still on Jason.
         Little did they know, Blake was tracking the exact same person. Using a note he made with his friends, he got himself a trained technician to help him trace Jason. Blake finally arrived in front of a dumpster. He trudged slowly to look behind the dumpster. He sighed as he saw that there was nothing behind the dumpster.  Jason leapt out from behind the shadows. He grabbed Blake in a bear hug and the two started to struggle. Blake bit down on Jason’s hand. However he nearly broke his teeth in the process as the skin was rock hard. At that moment a hail of bullets pounded at Jason’s back. The bullets were especially made for Jason however they weren’t enough to break him. The force however was too much for anyone to handle and Jason went flying. His head smashed into a fence. He slid to the floor and rolled over. Blake, seeing Jason’s gun dropped to the floor, went to grab it. Large squadrons of the directors hired mercenaries were heading over to him and Jason. Blake hid behind the dumpster with the gun cocked and ready. He looked over to Jason. Bullets were pounding all around him as he ran over to a nearby porch, hoping to gain some cover. Blake looked over at a piece of paper lying on the ground nearby, bingo. He pulled up his gun and ran for the note, shooting mercenaries who were busy reloading as he ran. He picked up the paper and dashed back to the dumpster. “God dammit, I have to get that paper, who knows how much he could have altered it by now.”  So as he ran back to the dumpster and hid behind it he got out his pen and rubber, ready to fix any changes. His eyes searched frantically for any changes. There were none but for one very small change. His eyes widened, he had to change it immediately or His entire plan could be ruined. “Dammit, how could I make this mistake?” He then thought back to how he came to such a stupid decision

         Me and the boys were huddled around a desk in a library. The 2 boys were asking me all sorts of questions as to why it wasn’t working. “It worked the first time you showed us”
         “Yeah, you made a guy take off his pants and start dancing and all sorts of things, why didn’t that Jason kid turn gay?”
         “I think I know why, it’s … the way it’s written as well as how many people are writing it” I explained. The boys looked at me and nodded their heads in a sort of half agreement. “So you’re saying that…. Hey you’re right!” shouted the redhead of the group. “The other notes we wrote that day, they were all small things, and only a couple of us wrote them, but they were all in the third person” continued the redhead.
         “Maybe if we were to write them in a 2nd person sort of style and get someone to read it, the message will go more directly to them” he finished.
         “Hmm, yes, that would make sense, and for bigger things we need more people, say like that plan we had in store” I said. The other 2 boys smiled. I was lucky that they let me join their group. They are smart, and they get the picture quickly. Of course, I changed the name of the one who would be god afterwards to me, they aren’t getting the power!

         Remembering this Blake started to realize that he should’ve foreseen that Jason might’ve figured this out. And sending him to that same laboratory he was sent to was a mistake as well. He seemed to have gained some sort of superpower. He was about to rub out the change when something was poked into his head. “Your coming with me kid” said the mercenary.
         Meanwhile the mercenaries were trying to kill Jason. The failed project was supposed to have superpowers but that gave him amnesia and hallucinations of actually having a normal human life. That’s what the mercenaries were told anyway, nobody knew the truth. Slowly, the bullets began to penetrate Jason and soon enough he was nothing but a bleeding mess on the floor. Jason blinked a few times. The pain and realization of death coming over him. He slowly closed his eyes and died.
         The mercenaries apprehended the Alternator, who called himself Blake. Just as they were taking away the Alternator. Who the Director instructed not to kill. A mercenary named Roy looked over to a piece of paper lying on the ground and read it. On it the note said ““One week from now a tragic event will occur killing thousands of people, but you won’t be around to see it, soon, after the police capture you for murdering that English teacher, you will start to lose your sanity. Then, as you are rotting away in some insane asylum, nobody will believe you or a single thing you say. Meanwhile everything will come together. And after that Jason will be God”. Just as he finished reading it something peculiar appeared in the sky.
         The incredibly enormous Bomber plane flew and covered up the entire sky. From Roy’s view the bottom had a very large line running across it. The Line then started to widen. The roar of the Bomber nearly blew everyone away and Roy felt nearly deaf. As the line started to widen Roy realized that it was a trapdoor of sorts, and something was about to be dropped off. In the blackness of the trapdoor a small round object was seen. The small object was dropped. The round object fell straight for the centre of town. Once it reached it there was a sudden pause. Then a rumbling earthquake began to occur. Soon a shockwave began to spread through the city killing everyone and knocking down buildings. The mercenaries and every living thing in it were destroyed. In the centre of town a cloud started to rise, it was in the shape of a mushroom. The city had just been hit by an atomic bomb.

         Jason woke up. He looked around him as a bright line shone brightly all around him. He couldn’t see everything. In his mind countless words tumbled through it. “Dear god, May mummy and daddy”
“Dear God, my thy sins be forgiven”
“Dear God, May you give me the strength”
“Dear God, I wish for a new bike this Christmas”
“Dear God, I know I don’t pray much”
“Dear God, May I one day find out how you were created”
“Dear God, Can you help me?”
“Dear God, My you please help my friends understand that their consoles suck”
“Dear God, Can you please forgive me”
“Dear God, what’s and errection?”
The Voices weren’t just prayers, they were thoughts, conversations. And somehow, Jason’s mind managed to take them all in. He understood each and every sound, image and thought that was going through his mind. He separated them, and all at once, he understood them. He thought to himself. Yes, an errection is an, umm, ask your parents. Sure, I’ll give you strength. He fixed every prayer that came to him. He saw everything from every angle all at once. And he loved each and every one of them. He then realized something. “Oh right, the tragedy”. The atomic bomb had wiped out the entire city. He wanted to help those suffering but all at once there were other images of people suffering. He thought to himself what he would do to each and every one of them. He saved everyone. But then more pain and emotion kept coming through. He fixed every one of those problems, knowing instantly the details of everyone of them. But after a while he realized what was most important to HIM and HIS situation and realized that God was not his role. He cleared his mind of all thoughts and focused on the city. The bright light disappeared and he was no longer omnipresent, or omniscient. He was just Omni powerful. He looked around and knew that the only thing he needed to do was obvious. He summoned up all his energy and made one single clear thought. “May time go backwards, back to when I was in that first history class when it all started, and the director or the company or anyone involved with them, especially Blake, didn’t exist”

Jason was in history 3rd Period. For some unusual reason he was the only person who seemed to enjoy the subject. That was when he received the note. It just glided onto his paper. It came in from the left so unexpectantly, gliding from left to right until it finally settled onto his paper. He picked it up and read it. It said “Man, how can you stand this stupid subject!” Jason laughed and looked over at Dill. Only He could have that kind of handwriting. Dill was skinny and good looking, but for some reason he never told anyone his real name. Must have been from the time when he robbed that poor old lady. Word was that a pharmaceuticals company wanted to do some tests on him but they were soon turned down.