How I Got My Superpowers

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I have a bit of explaining to do. Not just to my nonexistent readers, but probably to Daniel and Kaya and some of my friends as well.

As some of you have probably noted from some of my posts, I have become sort of immortal and sort of prone to setting things on fire. In my Delirium of course. It would be awesome to do that stuff in Reality, but unfortunately, that can’t happen. Dang.

Now I know the Daily Prompt Challenge is meant to be about how I became a writer. And I’ll do that. Tomorrow. I promise. But I got inspired by the superhero origin story stuff, and I really wanted to write a post about my own weird…hand…thingymaginky. Plus the immortality. But I prefer the flamethrowing stuff.

I think it probably started when I was discovering Kaya’s nasty habit of taking over whenever I went into Delirium. We were at the beach, and I fell into Delirium.

I remember vaguely what happened. Mainly, I remember Kaya screaming. I couldn’t see her, I don’t think anyone would be able to see her again. But she was screaming. The monsters had her surrounded. She was in pain.

Yeah…I’m not entirely sure why I did what I did. I have debates whether or not I regret it. But I had charged at them. I gave Kaya enough time to get back to Reality.

Then they cornered me.

I wonder if they had killed me, would I still be in Delirium? I’m uncertain. Before, I had always been afraid of dying. Originally, when my Delirium had been starting out, I didn’t have visions from my own point of view. I saw it from Kaya, Nereida, lots of people. Most of them died, with me feeling and seeing everything.

Then, somehow, I ended up there. With my own body. And now part of me is stuck there.

The prison they locked me in is one of the most terrifying places on Earth. I wasn’t sure who to fear more; the guards with swollen heads who liked to watch as their prisoners scream, or the captives, who would stare at me with a detached creepy expression on their face as they laughed at nothing and would scream out randomly.

I found out a couple of things. They wouldn’t kill me. I think at the time I was relieved to hear that. But they weren’t going to let me go. Let me explain to you what kind of ones these monsters are. In order to know what they know, they have suffered massive deformities in their bodies. Their eyes seem to bulge out of their giant heads, and a few of them are missing their senses in order to enhance others.

These people, with their impossible intelligence, they want to develop, they want to create new things. It had started with themselves, but then they found a better solution. Prisoners. Anyone guilty of a major crime would be ‘donated’ and they would come here. After that, what happened to them would be a secret to all except their torturers.

That was how things were before Kaya. Kaya and her refusal to stay dead. Kaya and her stubborn determination. Kaya and her bright purple eyes and shock of white hair…

When Kaya did what she did, she showed people what really happened. And now they’re thinking. Thinking is dangerous, you see. Before, people thought this was a good idea. But they didn’t really know. And now they do.

Either way, the monsters never cared about what others thought. They went about as they always did, doing as they wished. And I would be their next victim.

Apparently Kaya was trying to get me out. Negotiate a deal. I didn’t know who at the time, but I’m guessing now it was the fat man, aka. Thommand. Either way, she didn’t go through with it. Why, she won’t tell me.

Later on, I think I described what I had done as a deal with the devil. It probably was, when you consider it. But it was the only thing I could do. I wanted to get out before I was reduced to the screaming wrecks which inhabited the prison.

So I made an agreement. With the monsters. I would be allowed out of that place, and in could live with Daniel and be free in my own Delirium.

In exchange, I would have to return occasionally. Every while and then for a check up.

And they would stick a needle in my arm that would make my blood burn.

I couldn’t speak to Daniel after. They let me out, and he found me wandering the outside world. I went back to Reality not long after in a similar predicament. I spent an hour searching, until I found Papa Willis and pretty much sprinted into him. I was so happy I was alive, but at the same time, I felt as guilty as hell.

I would still consider it a prison. Delirium itself is a prison. I can’t escape it, and I can’t avoid it. But I’m glad that I’m not staying in that hellhole of a cell forever.

Sometimes the monsters have other ideas. They go back on their agreement and chain me up when I try to leave. I never let Daniel come with me to these…checkups, because they would chain him too. Instead, he comes to break me out whenever I need help.

Not that I always need that help.

I think the first time I had found out about my hands would’ve been that time I had named The Rage of a Cat. When I consider it, I think that that was probably the aim of their injections. The immortality was just sort of a side effect. And when they found out about said immortality, they took it more as a challenge. They tried to kill me in as many ways possible.

The very first time I had died, I was stabbed.

I think the second time was when my guts were torn out. But there might have been another before that. Most of it’s a blur.

Later, they tried to kill me by hitting me over the head. That time was different. I managed to get revenge, or at least some animalistic satisfaction from murdering the man they same way he murdered me.

That’s another thing I’ve noticed. I’ve become…stronger. I can fight back for once. I feel like I am intimidating enough to have control of myself now.

But…I also feel worse about myself. That time I got revenge wasn’t the only death I have caused. The bad thing is that I’ve forgotten how many I’ve killed. And who. I never knew who I had killed. And reading back my words, I sound like an utter monster.

I suppose I’m frightened of what I’m becoming. Being in Delirium is slowly taking away my humanity, bit by bit. And because of that, I’m scared of myself in Reality as well. Because I know I’m capable of doing the same thing there.

But when you think about it, I’m not entirely a monster. If I were, Daniel would’ve abandoned me by now. But he hasn’t. He still cares about me even if I’m a murderer and psycho. So there has to be some bit of good in me somewhere.

I’m not a superhero. I’m too fucked up for that. But I’m not the bad guy either. I’m just a freak. And that’s fine with me.

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Silence of the Cat

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Here’s the challenge link . And now, here’s another tale of a mad Cat.

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It was hot and stuffy upon awakening. My skin was sticky, and I could smell something foul. When I try to move, my arms push against something scratchy and strong, which prevents me from extending my limbs. Encased in darkness and unable to move my arms or legs, I roll over onto my side. When I roll over once more though, I feel the earth slip out from beneath me, and I’m falling to the ground.

It hurts, and I can’t breathe for a moment. I’m lying on my stomach, and I realise there’s a small, cold object pressed against my mouth. I take it between my teeth and yank it down. Cool air rushes through the bag, and I take a huge gulp of it, before dragging the zipper lower. Eventually, my hand can wiggle up and grab it and pull it down all by myself. When I have enough space to do so, I lift my head out of the bag.

I’m not the only corpse here. An old man is decomposing in a dark corner, while in two bags next to me, the forms of two unknown people I’m assuming are human lie.

My last memories come back. I had died, again. It was fairly quick this time, and no one had slit my throat. There’s a bump on the head from where the metal bar struck.

I wonder if this is where they put the bodies. It’s hard to tell; in this prison, there’s rotting flesh in the living cells as well as the dead. Either way, they had no idea of what they locked up in here. Cat Madigan, undead warrior. In a way.

I look around in the dark, feeling around for objects and praying that my hand does not touch a bone or a rotting corpse. It’s some time before I return to my body bag, where I find the metal bar which put me there. It’s strange that they would put the weapon used to murder me in the same bag as my body, but then I hear footsteps, and I don’t bother questioning my good fortune.

I’ve hidden in a corner, and when the door opens, I’m concealed behind it. One of the monsters comes in, grunting as he pulls in a couple of human sized bags. To my amazement, he doesn’t see me, as I crouch behind the massive door. Clutching the weapon used to kill me, I decide to get my revenge.

He doesn’t live long enough to turn around. I strike him again and again, till I’m satisfied. Then I realise that the door would probably have been left open anyway. This is a room of corpses, and corpses don’t rise from the dead.

I slip out the door, leaving the monster with his victims, and I remember the words of Kaya. I keep in the darkness, the shadows are my friend as I navigate the gloomy prison. The only ones who see me are the prisoners. Their empty eyes stare out at me, but they won’t tell on me. I’m one of them, in a way.

Finally, I reach a place where I am certain Daniel will go. In this prison, there is a wall, which has been broken and melted, and has refused to be repaired. This is where the freak escaped, and where they realised their biggest mistake.

I’m not surprised when two guards come out of their shadows, one shoving his sword under my neck. I shiver at the sensation, and close my eyes, waiting for the sword to bite at my throat, piercing the skin.

But Daniel’s sword gets him first.

The other raises his sword at me and swings it down. I fling myself out of it’s way, and I snatch the little dagger Daniel throws to me. I cannot fight, I am useless at swords. But…

I dodge his blows one by one, and once I’m behind him, I rise the dagger.

I’m very good at cheating.

Even though I have little use for it, I pick up his sword before running out after Daniel, treading on his bloody body. I leap off the edge of the building, landing on a thick, leathery hide. It smells of sulphur and smoke, but it’s warm, and it makes me tired.

Then we fly.