Brain Power (Chptrs. 5-7

Brain Power

By Joel Marchel #26
P. 5 Creative Writing
18,032 words


Chapter 5



The man was taken from his sweet dreams and thrown to the reality of his shabby cabin.  He pulled himself up from the creaking old wooden rocking chair.  The man grunted as he stood up.  His back was killing him.  Usually he could barely see in the cabin without his lamp turned on but tonight the full moon shinned through every hole in the poorly constructed cabin.  The room was gloriously illuminated by the moon. 

“The moon makes this place look not as disgusting as it really is.” The man grunted.  In the moon light the man’s wrinkles and large eye bags were clearly defined. His body was small and wiry thanks to starvation and malnutrition. His skin was a deep tan.  Even after all of the manual labor he did day in and day out he still had no muscle buildup whatsoever. His nails were long and yellowish.  He had scruff brown hair, which was hidden under an ugly baseball cap. About eight of his teeth had fallen out, the rest were either crooked, discolored, or cavity filled. He was so underfed his body had given up trying to grow facial hair.  His muddy shoes had left his tracks everywhere.  If one walked in to this house they could see everywhere and everything he had done in this shack for the past six years.  His stained and torn overalls were drooping slowly down his body.  They were too big for him, but big crappy cheap clothes were the only ones he could afford. Under the overalls was a white shirt that had been stained so much it now resembled a yellowish brown color. The only thing the man took pride in was his gold watch. It was the only clean shiny thing in this shack. His father had given it to him before he died. He was fifteen at the time.  That had been the man’s prized possession ever since. He would spend hours every week polishing it and staring at it.  People made fun of his obsession with the watch but he didn’t care. To him it was like he was spending time with his dad.  Connecting to him for beyond the grave.

Once a mugger had put a knife to the man’s throat and demanded the watch and the man’s wallet. The man said no and began to turn around and attack.  The mugger slit the man’s throat slightly. As he was choking on his own blood the man stabbed the mugger with his own knife and strangled the last bit of life out of him.  That is why the man has to live such a sheltered life, so fat away from home. Nobody could know who he was or where he lived. He found this job and knew it was perfect. Almost no one would ever see him. Those who did wouldn’t care. It was the perfect hiding place. The case had been filed away years ago, but the man didn’t want to take any chances. If they found him they would send him to prison. There they would take away his watch.  If that happened the man didn’t know what he would do.  The thought of prison gave him shivers.  The man tried to push the thought out of his head.  The only other thing the man liked was a small wooden cube sitting under the bed.  It seven by seven by seven.  He had lived here for over half a decade, and still looking at this old beat up shack brought sorrow and anguish to his soul.  The cabin was composed of one large room, unless you count the closet that is. The floors were filled with dirt and scuff marks. Nobody would ever bother to clean it.  In the right corner of the room was a small dusty refrigerator. It was mostly for looks though.  That thing hadn’t worked since the man first moved in and began working as the cemetery’s caretaker.  By the door was a coat racket, it looked like it was from the 1800’s. Two feet away from the coat racket was a rickety door to a small closet.  The closet became a small ecosystem of its own. Spiders, rats, and cockroaches had made that place their home. The man rarely went into the closet. The only reason he ever dared enter there was to visit his father during the day.  Sometimes he couldn’t wait till night. It was too hard. Besides the rocking chair, which the man had become quite fond of, the only other piece of furniture was the small single bed. There were no sheets, no comforter just an old yellow musty pillow.  He had brought that pillow from home. When the man lies down in the bed his legs were halfway off the bed.  The man had his own little blanket. It was barely enough to cover his torso and upper thighs. The entire cabin smelled of mildew and other various rotten smells. With all the holes in the cabin when it rained water got in everywhere.  With barely any education this was the only job he could get. It paid barely anything but it was enough to live. Beside the rocking chair was an end table where he had placed a lamp and a small radio.  Those were the only two small bits of technology he had. The man wondered what had woken him up.  He then heard loud noise in the cemetery.

The man cocked his head out the window and looked to the south, the direction where he heard kids screaming and yelling. “What the hell are kids doing out in a cemetery this late at night anyway?”  He asked himself. His solitude had made him unaware of his constant out loud rambles to himself. He pulled on a coat and began toward the door as he tightened his watch around his wrist. The man picked up the wooden block and stuffed it deep into  his pocket. He would never the house without it.  He pulled open the door, the cool night breeze flew into his face. It was refreshing and chocking simultaneously.  He gingerly shut the door thinking that if he slammed it shut the whole house would collapse.  It wasn’t a very farfetched theory considering what this shack had been through.

He strolled down the hill angrily.  What nerve these kids must have waking me up during my rejuvenating and important five and a half hours of sleep.  The precious few hours were extremely important to the man.  In his dreams he could be back with his family with no fear.  He could have his old life back.  Most importantly for five and a half hours out of the day his father could be alive again and love him and spend time with him.  Now those brats are going to get an ear full from me. He grew angrier with each stride.  He pulled a old rag from his pocket and began cleaning his watch. It calmed him down immensely. He closed his eyes for a minute.  It helped him gain his composure.  He opened his eyes and hastened his pace. The faster he made this, the faster he could get back to sleep.  He almost tripped when he looked to his right and saw his father jogging along with him. He was a portly man. He was mostly bold except the sides of his head.  He wore a sweater with a green vest. He was panting as he tried to keep up with his son.

“What are you doing here father?” The man asked.

“What, am I not allowed to take a nice stroll in the cemetery with my son?” The man’s father replied.

“No, I would love to have you, but you do seem to be having
trouble keeping up.  Shall I slow my pace?” The man asked.

“Its fine, we need to scare the rascals and then get back home as quickly as possible.” The father said as he pointed to his identical gold watch.

The man looked at his watch.  He cursed under his breath, he had only another two hours. “You’re right Father, we must hurry.  We wouldn’t want Mother to worry.” The man panted. He too was now being fully drained of his energy. They were almost to the tallest hill in the cemetery. The yells were getting louder. The man dreaded the walk back. 

He had to keep up appearances in front of his father.

“What do you intend to do with the children?” His father asked, straggling behind now.

The man let up on his pace a little so his father could catch up before he replied. “I don’t know, just yell at them and chase them out, I suppose.”  The man chirped. He was getting excited at the idea of scaring those kids out of their minds.

“Good for you my son, those kids need to be taught a lesson about respecting the dead.” His father remarked.  The man smiled at his father’s compliment. The man’s father smiled too.  The man’s smile slowly turned to a frown.  Was his father commenting on how he had handled his father’s corpse? How could he? He didn’t want to be so far away from him.  He had to bring his father to his new home.  His father was treating him like a child again.

”I thought you learned your lesson the last time you were condescending to me.” His father’s smile quickly turned to a frown too. The man stopped walking and turned to his father. “Well, answer me!” He demanded.

His father put his finger to his lips and said “Shhhh, you wouldn’t want the kids to hear your voice before you scare them.” His father nodded toward the tall hill about one hundred yards away.

”Don’t change the subject!” The man shouted. “You need to be taught another lesson, don’t you?” The man whispered. He had to control his voice.

”No, no, please don’t.” The father said.  He started backing away from his son. His father’s fear disgusted the
man.

The look on his father’s face took the man back twenty three years.  He was fifteen almost sixteen.  His father had finished yelling at him and his mother.  The boy saw the look of gratitude on his father’s face.  He derived it from their fear. He knew that they knew that he was in total control. He liked it that way.  The boy’s ears were throbbing, still recovering from the endless shouts and screams. This event was a weekly ritual for them.  His father always managed to find something that his mother and he had done that week that outraged him and he found it necessary to yell at them for.  The last minute of his father’s yelling ritual was especially bad.  His father had gotten in his face and started yelling at him about his “girlfriend” as his father had decided to call her. She was just a friend.  His father was outraged about this what he saw this Wednesday.  She had offered to walk him home.  When they got to his house he invited her in. They sat down and talked.  Soon they started making out.  His father was outraged when he got home.

For that last minute of his father’s screaming it hurt him worse then anything he had said before. He called her a slut and a whore. The boy turned red in the face then his father made fun of that. His father went into his study to smoke a cigar as he did every week.  His mother ran crying into her room. The boy sat there and thought about his father, and the pain he caused him and his mother.  The only thing the boy liked about his father was his beautiful gold watch. His father knew how much he liked it.  He flaunted it around as if were worth a billion dollars. To the boy it was. His father was always out to hurt him. It was as if his goal was that he had to make him wish he weren’t born.  This was the last straw.  He went in to his room and pulled open his drawer and pulled out his chess set.  He pulled out a white king and a black king.  He went over to his closet and pulled out his guitar. He snipped off one of the longest strings.  He went down to the kitchen and grabbed some super glue from the kitchen drawer.  He ran back up to his room in excitement. This was the most brilliant plan he had ever had.  He was never smart in school.  He hadn’t been in any good at sports, must to his father’s disappointment.  This had to be the smartest thing he had ever thought of.  He applied a line of super glue to the bottom part of the cylinders of each king.  Then he applied the guitar screen to each chess piece. He sat there waiting for the glue to dry.  This had to be the most artistic project I have ever done, the boy thought. He started laughing out loud.  He stifled his laughs with both hands.  If his father thought that his son was having any enjoyment in his life he would make sure that he turned his life into a living hell. The glue dried.  It had only taken minutes but to the boy it had seemed like hours.  The boy took his home made garrote and put it in his pocket. He stomped down the stairs and through the door to his father’s study.  The smoke made the boy choke for a few seconds. His father started to wheel his chair around so he could look at his son.  The boy walked up behind the chair and stuck his foot in the base, preventing his father from wheeling around.

“Don’t!” The boy commanded. 

”What the hell are you doing in here?” The father yelled. His father’s very voice made him angrier with each word that came from his lips. He had to silence his father. He had to make sure that he would never yell at him again.  His father started to yell again. “I asked you a question; you will answ-“I quickly looped my art project around his neck.  I firmly grasped the king pieces and pulled back.  He began to choke.  He held up his hands.  I loosened the garrote enough so that he could talk. “I will do anything, please stop.” His father held up his right hand and loosened his watch.  He pulled it off of his wrist.  He knew that his son loved that watch and he was using that love to save his life.  “Here, have this.” His father whispered. The boy put both kings in one hand and took the golden watch.  This was the nicest his father had ever been to him.  He loved it.  While the boy was examining the watch his father used both hands to grab the garrote string and began to pull.  The boy dropped the watch and began pulling on the kings again.  The boy’s father tried to gurgle out more words of anger.  The boy pulled harder.  He wanted his father to never speak again.  He wanted his father’s last words to be the nice words he just said.  The guitar string cut into his father’s neck. Blood poured out of the wound.  His father’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. His father made his last attempt to talk.  He struggled against his chair.  The boy was surprisingly strong. His body surged with adrenaline. The father’s body stopped moving.  He stopped struggling. The boy held his garrote against his father’s neck for three more minutes. He wheeled his father around. The frozen look of fear on his father’s face disgusted the boy. He pulled out his father’s wallet. He looked through it.  It had a few credit cards. His ID and about three thousand dollars cash.  He never knew his father carried so much money. They were always well off.  His father and mother had jobs. The lived in a nice two story house, but why is he carrying around this much money. If he had this much money in his wallet, how much did he have in the safe? The boy walked over to his father’s safe. 

“The combination is six digits.” At least that’s what his father said. “I wonder what it is.” The boy said aloud to himself.  He tried his birthday. Nothing. Then he tried his mother’s and his father’s birthday.  Still nothing happened. Then he was struck with brilliance. He wrote down all twenty six letters of the alphabet then wrote down the numbers one through twenty six right under the letters of the alphabet. R was 19, O was 15, and Y was 25. Roy was his father’s first name. He put the numbers into the safe.  A low click went off.  His father had been deliberately deceiving when he told him about the combination. He thought it was six different numbers.  He pulled the safe open.  He could not believe his eyes. There was a few stacks of hundreds sitting before him.  Sitting on the stack of money was a small gold brick. It was a six inch square brick.  Six inches long, six inches wide, and six inches deep.  It was pretty heavy. The boy took the money, the gold cube, and the watch into his room.  Then he walked into the bathroom and washed off the garrote.  He cut open his pillow and put the garrote into the pillow. He pulled out some of the stuffing and through it away He would keep that to always remind him of what he had done. He counted all the money, and then he stuffed it into his pillow. Why did his father have $248,600 stuffed away? The money looked so old and odd. The boy wondered if his mother knew. He sewed the pillow back up. The boy picked up the gold cube. He grabbed the super glue and ran outside.  There was a horrible storm outside.  The boy started peeled bark off a tree.  The boy super glued an inch of bark onto all the sides of the cube. Now it looked
like it was just a stupid wood block. He put it back inside under the bed. Now he began thinking about what he would do when his mother found his father’s body and the cops came.  Would he go to prison?  The boy had another ingenious idea.  The third one tonight. He ran back outside.  He walked by the window of his fathers study.  He picked up a rock and smashed it against the window.  The glass shattered under the rock’s might. The boy ran back inside and upstairs.  He pounded on his mother’s door. She pulled the door open.

“Mom, I think we’ve been robbed.


His father’s voice brought the man back from his flash back. “Please, I am begging you.” The man stood there motionless.

”No I won’t stop!” The man yelled.  “I won’t be talked to like that anymore! Apparently you need to be taught another lesson.” The man said as he pulled out two chess pieces from his pocket.

”I will do anything, please don’t” The father pleaded. The father unfortunately didn’t know that his plights were just making his son even angrier. The man clenched his fists tight.  He gritted his teeth.  “You won’t get away with it.”

”I did last time, what makes you think that anyone is going to care this time.” The man demanded. He put each chess piece in each of his hands.  He pulled them apart until the guitar string was taut “I have been saving this just for a time like this.  Now turn around.”

His father turned around and began crying. He held up his hand and pulled off the watch from his right wrist. “Here take it, I just want to live.”

The man shook his head and held his right wrist up to even though his father couldn’t see him. “I’ve already got one.” The man looped the garrote around his father’s head exactly as he had last time.  He pulled tighter and tighter.  He made sure his father couldn’t choke out another word. The man knew that this time his father would stay gone. The man put his mouth right to his father’s ear.  “I did this last time and you still didn’t learn, this time I will have to make it much, much worse.”  The man could feel his father’s life slipping away.  As his father’s life was almost gone the man turned him around and through him to the ground.  He picked up a heavy rock and knelt down beside his father. He began smashing the rock into his father’s body.  Blood splattered everywhere.  He didn’t stop until his father’s body was almost completely smashed into the ground. The man wiped the garrote and himself off with a cloth.  He still had to scare the kids. He started up the hill again.  Too bad he would really miss the company. He felt the seven
inch wood box in his pocket. 

After the cops gave up searching for his father’s killer and after his mother remarried every night the man looked at the contents of his pillow.  He never spent a dime of the money, or showed the gold cube to anyone. After he killed the mugger and ran away the man was very short on money so he cut the cube in half and hollowed out four inches of the center. He sold those four inches to a pawn shop.  He attached a latch on one side of the cube and attached the lock on the other side. He put the money in the center.  He still never used a cent of the money no matter what. The man never trusted anyone so he carried the cube everywhere he went.  It still had the bark attached to it.  He was coming up on the top of the hill.  He stuffed the cube back into his pocket.  What the hell are they doing?  There were ten to fifteen kids.  They were yelling at each other.  What kind of crazy cult are these kids in?  They were all in red robes.  There was a fire in the center. The man didn’t know what to do.  He just started walking up to them.

One looked up at him and shouted “Stop!”





























Chapter 6



That was definitely the man from my dreams.  I knew that shadow; I had seen it thirteen times before.  What can I do? There was total chaos around me.  People were yelling and screaming about… I don’t know what.  I heard choice words flying around, but the argument seems to have moved off the topic of my position and moved on to more “important” things.  No one noticed the man approaching me, except me of course. No one had even noticed that I yelled at the shadow. Maybe I was the only one who can see him.  I might be going insane.  If I was going insane then I probably wouldn’t question my sanity. I began to sweat profusely.  The shadow was coming to get me.  He was coming to get me. A shiver ran up my spine when I thought of the supposed identity of the shadow.  I started to panic.  There was nothing I could do to stop him.  I could almost already feel the strong hands squeezing against my throat. I can’t let him do that to me again.  I looked to the ground.  I had to give up and let him win, like he said I should in the dream.  I tried to focus as hard on the ground as I could.  I tried to totally ignore the man approaching to end my life. I looked at the dead grass wilting in spirals.  I saw that the fire was still burning on the stone full of my blood. It was almost as if literally a light bulb went on in my head.  I supposedly had the power to set things aflame.  I looked back up at the shadow.  My yell didn’t even seem to affect him.  He was only about ten feet from our circle. 

Raised my hand out in front of me and again yelled “Stop!”  My own voice scared me.  It was so deep, it almost sounded demonic. My yell stopped the man in his tracks. Everyone looked at me then looked at the shadow man.  He won’t take me alive. As everyone was looking away from me jets of fire flew off my hands and jumped onto the man. He let out screams of terror.  The fire made him crumple onto the ground like a piece of paper. Everyone except me let out screams of horror. 

Trying to maintain his cool Rapier yelled out “Reconvene at home base.”  Everyone scattered and ran.  I stood there watching the man burn.  No one noticed that I stayed behind, not even Rachel.  The man was still alive.  He was writhing in pain.  His clothes had all but completely burned off.  His body was completely covered in burns.  What should I do?  I walked up to him. The smell of his skin burning made me want to vomit.  He looked up in pain and raised his hands over his head.

“Please don’t hurt me anymore, just leave and let me die in peace.” The man begged.  I knelt down beside him.  He looked up to the right of him.  He started screaming. “No, you can’t be back.  I killed you twice.” What was he talking about? “No you can’t have it father.” His right hand rose. A resplendent gold watch was upon it. “I would rather have my killer have it than you.” As the man said the he shoved his burnt and decrepit wrist towards me.

“Take it, I beg of you.”

”Won’t it hurt?” I asked.

”From recent past experiences I don’t think that you care that much about my well being.” He remarked.  I tried to take the watch off as fast as I could. I was trying to make it less painful. My plan backfired, he howled in pain. “I told you that you didn’t care.” He rasped.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized.  I felt horrible.  I had just ended another person’s life, for real.  This is definitely going to put me on God’s “Going to Hell” list. 

The man interrupted my remorseful thoughts. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and grab the wooden cube.  Be careful it might be still hot.”  I reached into his pocket and felt around for a small would cube. I found a cube. It felt smooth in some parts and rough in some parts. It was perfectly cool and wasn’t burning me. I pulled it out.  The man shouted.  I looked at the cube.  Little pieces of wood were still burning off. Under the wood was a gold box. “That box is twenty four carrot gold. Inside is $248,600 dollars.” He whispered. I opened the cube and inside was a large bundle of hundreds.
“Why are you giving this to me?” I asked him.

“Because I don’t want my evil father to have it.” The jerked his head to the right as he said. “Keep the watch and cube forever.  Do what you want with the money.”

I grabbed the man’s hand in a fit of gratitude. “Thank you” I said.  I immediately withdrew my hand and closed my eyes expecting screams of pain.  The was only silence. I looked up at the man.  All of his horrible burns had completely disappeared. The man smiled.  He was no longer in pain.  “Look, now you can survive this.” I shouted with excitement.  I wasn’t a killer after all.

The man smiled but shook his head. “I’m afraid my healthy appearance is superficial.  This is the end for me.  Thank you, you have allowed me to die painlessly and in peace. You may be my killer but you are also my savior. Take what I have given as my undying gratitude.” With his last words he closed his eyes and passed on.  I didn’t know why I was almost mourning for this man I knew for about ten minutes.
It was probably mostly guilt.  I began walking towards the exit.  I turned around to see the man’s body one more time.  It had completely vanished.  There was no sign of him.

“Freaky” I said as I began walking towards the exit again. I put the golden watch on my right wrist.  It looked great.  It would always remind me of this man whose name I didn’t even know. I marveled at the money inside the solid gold box.  Why in the world would a man I had just started killing give me all this plus $248,600.  Apparently he wanted to keep it away from his dead father he saw.























Chapter 7





I shoved the gold cube into my pocket.  I had completely forgotten about Rapier’s order to get back to the local hangout for our cult.  For some reason he called it home base.  In my dream I had killed someone with my powers.  Except this time I did it on purpose without any threat made to me.  I just did it because he looked like my assailant in a dream.  That was not reason to commit murder.  What am I going to do? Would the group tell the police?  I was too young to go to jail.  I headed out of the cemetery and ran down the street.  The golden watch showed that it was 3:43 am. I needed to get there or I would get thrown out.  I stopped and began to slowly walk down the sidewalk. I have a power, why should I have to bend backwards for that retard.  I have always hated Rapier, and he has always hated me.  The only reason he and I remained cordial to each other was Rachel.  He was an incompetent, ignorant jackass.  I leisurely walked down the road, enjoying the scenery.    I still need to hurry up so I can finish our meeting and get home. The street was lined with small diners and boutiques.  It was so late the street lights weren’t even on.  If the moon wasn’t so bright and full I would be almost completely blind. A rustling behind me put me in high alert mode.  I pulled my Dracolithe out and swiveled around to find a small black ball of matter sitting on the concrete. I sheathed my sword and knelt down to inspect the creature. I couldn’t make out a single feature.  I craned my neck down so that my face was only inches from the creature.

I received a wet lick on my nose followed by a squeaky “Meow” A small kitten sat before me.  He was almost entirely black save his paws, the tip of his tail and ears, and his chest.  He mewed again, how could I leave this kitten alone to fend for itself?  I scooped up the kitten in my arm an continued down the street towards our hangout. 


When I arrived at the hangout the group had continued its argument.  Our hangout was the large basement of an abandoned warehouse.  Rachel and Slithe found this place shortly after RedRum was started.  When they found it, according to Rachel, there had been nothing but cobwebs and old cardboard boxes in the basement.  It was perfect considering the privacy and noise reduction qualities of this place. Now there were countless supernatural symbols in red marker on the walls.  Last time I counted we had over a thousand candles in here.  There was one large white pentagram in the center of the basement.  That’s where we usually grouped for incantations and such. I counted heads as I slowly walked through the argument.  No one had noticed my arrival. There were only eleven people here, twelve counting me.  Who was missing and what were they doing?  An arm reached out from the crowd and latched onto my elbow.  It pulled me to the center the pentagram where its owner Rachel was standing. 

She yelled out “People… shut up!  He’s here now and since Roth fled, and is banned from ever returning.” She turned to me and whispered “Don’t worry he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone.” She turned back to everyone else.  “We obviously need to elect him-“

Rapier elbowed Rachel out of the way and continued for her. “Now we will hold the election ceremony.”  Rachel’s dirty looks and cold stares had no effect on Rapier. “It won’t be very exciting considering there is only one open position.  With that let us vote” Rachel handed out pieces of parchment paper to everyone and placed a bronze container in the center of the pentagram, right beside me. 

“Before you vote let me remind you that if everyone elects Chance for a position already filled,” Rachel stared at Rapier “he gets that position.”

“I seriously doubt that someone would vote for Chance to take their own place!”  Rapier interjected.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Rachel yelled. “Everyone vote him for that position, everyone except the current position holder.  Now please write down the position name that you want Chance to fill: Oracle, Keeper, or LEADER.” Rachel put a louder emphasis on the word leader.  I really didn’t want to be leader.  One by one everyone put their piece of paper in and formed a circle around the pentagram.  Rachel stood up and read out the names. “The votes are as follows: Leader, Leader, Oracle” Please God let the person who voted me for oracle be someone beside Rapier.  I hated him, but I didn’t want to be the center of attention, especially after this.  Rachel continued “Leader, Leader, Leader, Leader, Leader, Leader, Leader, and Leader. I think that is a little obvious that Chance become Leader”

“Hold on, we don’t know who voted Chance for Oracle” Rapier yelled.

”Wasn’t you who said that no one would vote Chance for their own position.” Rachel interjected.

”I did, I thought he would be right for the position.” 

“Do you honestly expect us to believe that.”

“Yes, I do.”

”Well since you think he’s right for the job, you should pass it on to him anyway.”

”I would, believe me, I would, but I can’t”

”Why not?”

”It’s totally against the rules.”

”No it’s not.  The leader of RedRum can give his position to another member, with no regard to the voting system.  As long as they verbally say it or it is in writing.  I think you should remember this.  Slithe tried to leave it to me in writing, but it mysteriously disappeared.”

”Get over yourself Rachel; this isn’t about Chance this is about you and your crazy boyfriend.”

“You S.O.B.” Rachel screamed as she tackled Rapier and began punching him.  I couldn’t decide which was more pathetic. The fact that Rachel had easily overpowered him or the fact that he was crying and begging for mercy.  The rest of the group dove in to pull the two apart. 

”Chance is the leader!  Did anyone vote for Chance to be Oracle besides Rapier?” Rachel paused and waited for anyone to speak up. “Didn’t think so.  He’s the leader and you can either be the Oracle or a NC.” 

”No, I won’t stand for this.” Rapier screamed. He turned to me. “Chance either step down and let me take my rightful role as leader or I will tell the police what you did and everyone will back me up.”  He looked at everyone around him.  I knew he was bluffing; he wasn’t lying when he said he would tell the police but no one in this group besides him would tell the police anything.  He saw that I wasn’t scared.  He knew that his lie wasn’t working. “They will believe me when I show them the burned corpse in the cemetery.” He smiled.

“No they won’t.” I smirked.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because the body is gone, now as leader I banish you on the grounds that you have threatened to betray your leader.”  Rapier yelled choice swear words as he stormed out.  The second he left everyone cheered.  I heard shouts of congratulations coming left and right.  I had no idea everyone hated Rapier as much as I did.

Rachel stood up at the podium and yelled “To our new leader, Chance!” Everyone whistled and yelled, I blocked out all of the noise from crowd and looked at my golden watch again and read 4:25.  I needed to get before my mom woke up.  She got up for work on Sundays around 5 o’clock in the morning.  I stood up at the podium and addressed the group. 

”Everyone, this meeting is adjourned.” I ran out of the basement before anyone could say anything to me, including Rachel. I raced through the streets taking every short cut I could think of.  No one had commented on the kitten in my arms.  I think I’m going to keep him.  He mewed in fright from the bumpy ride. I slowed down a little, but I couldn’t afford much speed reduction. When I got to the house I almost flew up the side of the house.  I stuffed the kitten in my pocket and climbed up the wall of the house.  My own adrenaline surprised me.  I rushed through my window and rolled out on my bed.  I wanted to go to sleep but I had to clean up.  I put my sword back where it belongs, along with the cube and watch.  I pulled the window shut and put my robe away. I shut my door. I pulled on pajama pants and started towards my bed.  I was so tired I just fell on my bed with the kitten and shut my eyes.  The kitten sat on my chest and mewed.  He pawed at my nose, not daring to use his claws.  Finally he gave up and fell asleep.