I stared at Atom’s smiling face in disbelief. “In exchange for his soul”, echoed in my mind like someone yelling in a tunnel. After leaving Al’s tutelage, I wanted nothing to do with fighting monsters, focusing entirely on healing. I was hesitant to admit it, but I was starting to think that was a mistake. If all it took for them to cross over was strong desire and a whisper in someone’s ear, the ramifications were terrifying. The situation I found myself in was proof of that.

Re-assessing my predicament: there were five demons standing before me; the tactic I’d used against Jascia wouldn’t work; and oh yeah, I had a spike sticking out of my chest. There was no way I could fight them and win. My only option was to flee.

With a jolt of strength and agility, I snapped the spike, unsheathed it from my chest, and swung it at Atom. He was barely surprised by the attack. When it struck him, it turned to liquid and splashed past him. I wasn’t just barely surprised at that, but I swallowed my shock and jet toward the kitchen. Dismounting with all the force I could muster, I catapulted forward. I moved with impossible speed and dove through the serving window. When I was out of view, I released the amplifications to conserve energy.

Bucket sat with his back against the wall next to me. I had expected him to be there since the kitchen was the only place near the action that was completely covered. His eyes were wide from my show of power. His reaction appealed to my ego and mollified my previous annoyance with him.

“Holy crap…” He whispered.

“Yeah. I’m pretty awesome.” I replied in kind. With the brief respite, I used the opportunity to heal the gaping hole in my chest.

“Well, I must admit, that was rather impressive.” Atom projected.

“Where are the guards?” I asked Bucket.

“They won’t mess with Atom, so they cleared out.” He replied.

“How convenient.” I noted sarcastically.

“I’ll give you one more chance, give up Bucket and the goods and you can walk out of here alive.” Atom offered. I looked at my cellmate’s pleading look and sighed.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.” I responded.

“So be it.” Atom said. “Stitch, Bullseye, you’re up.” I quirked a questioning eyebrow toward Bucket after hearing the nicknames, but he had already started running.

“Son of the dead.” I cursed. An eyeball riding a hand, as if from a gruesome horror flick, flew through the window. The grotesque pair ricocheted off a stainless-steel bowl, then a frying pan, then landed on my face. I didn’t have a chance to scream as it started to squeeze. I frantically flung it across the room, but it landed on its fingertips like a freaking spider. I bolted after Bucket, and the abomination gave chase. It ran surprisingly fast.

I didn’t think that the eyeball-hand was particularly dangerous, but it caused the sort of primal fear you get around venomous creatures like scorpions or snakes. Atom alone would have been hard enough to deal with, now I have other oddities assaulting me. I had to start thinking proactive, so I set my mind on estimating the extent of my opponent’s strengths and potential weaknesses that I could exploit.

The two shows of Atom’s ability gave me the impression he was able to alter matter, but both times, he made contact with the things he transformed. He also did it on instinct, so I’d have to catch him off guard if I wanted to take him out of the equation. The other two, based on their names and what I’d just witnessed, I could surmise what they were capable of.

I assumed that Stitch could remove his body parts, but still control them. Since he attached an eyeball to his hand, he must need to see what’s going on to use them effectively. The benefits also seemed very limited. I mean, what use is a foot by itself? Also, he’d probably be next to useless if I could blind him. Finally, I was guessing that Bullseye probably never missed. It’d be a challenge if that included attacks with more than just projectiles, so I was hoping I could nullify his ability if I got in close.

A plan to execute a blitz attack to quickly dispatch all three was coalescing in my mind. If I could use my agility to catch Atom off guard, blind Stitch with a finger strike, and get within striking distance of Bullseye, I might even have a chance, that is, as long as my assessments were accurate. The other two opponents, however, were unknown variables. If I knew their nicknames, I might be able to glean some hints at their abilites. Thankfully, I was gaining on a potential information source.

“Bucket!” I called. He looked back at me over his shoulder as we turned a corner. He was pale and breathing heavily. He wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace. “I need to know the nicknames of the two that haven’t attacked us yet.”

As I suspected, my cellmate stumbled to a halt and put his hands on his knees. He was wheezing. It was then that I remembered he was an old man. In his condition, that he could run at all was a miracle. I was only a little winded, but still had plenty of gas in the tank, but the spider hand was tireless; its unnerving skittering was almost upon us. I’d have to deal with it first.

I took a deep breath, overcame my primal fear, and as soon as it turned the corner, I punted it with a dose of strength. It smashed into the wall and fell to the floor. I took the opportunity to stomp on it, shattering the bones and crushing the eyeball. A pained shout came from the way we’d come. That’s one eye down, but he wouldn’t use the spider-hand tactic again, so I’d have to devise another strategy to take him out of the fight.

“Bucket. The nicknames.” I reminded.

“Poison and Pain.” He replied between gasps. The monikers were vague and ominous. Neither sounded particularly pleasant, nor did they inspire much confidence in me.

“Do you know what they can do?” I asked. He shook his head. I scrunched my face but stuffed down my frustration.

I looked back around the corner to see if our attackers had caught up. Three of them were walking confidently after us like proper villains unhurried in their pursuit. I got my answer to my last question when a purple smoke poured out of one of the men’s hands and billowed across the floor. I stared dumbly as it as it approached and slowly obscured them. My moment of distraction was enough for a hard plastic chef’s knife to hurdle through the air and hit me in the eye. I screamed in surprise, ducking back around the corner.

“An eye for an eye!” One of them chuckled.

“It’s funny for you maybe. You’re not the one missing an eye.” The one-eyed, one-handed walking demon people eater said. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I shakily grabbed the knife and tore it out of my face. I gathered myself and turned to Bucket with a grimace.

“We have to keep moving.” I told him.

“I-I can’t.” He said, still trying to catch his breath. A shiver of disgust showed his displeasure as my damaged eyeball reformed. I could understand his response; I can’t imagine the sight looked very appealing. Once again, while I was distracted, an attack caught me off-guard. The purple fog seeped around the corner. If I survived, I was going to have to work on my battle awareness.

I cursed, but don’t worry, it may have been a departure from my death-themed phrases, but it was still PG, something like fiddle dingleberries or turtle turds. I picked Bucket up and started running. I hadn’t realized the prison was so big and didn’t have any particular destination in mind. I didn’t know where Atom and Pain were, but I imagined they were positioning themselves for a pincer attack. There was no way I’d be able to keep away from them for long.

After a few turns, I flung open a closet and went inside. I needed time to think. What could I do? I was sorely outmatched. They had special abilities and all I had was body augmentations since there wasn’t much I could do in their souls. I needed more power.

“Bucket, give me your energy.” I commanded as I set him down.

“My energy?” He asked. His face contorted with anger. “I’m not letting any of you demons near my soul!”

I was taken aback. His assertion wasn’t like the picketers or the guy who kept calling me the devil. I told Bucket what I could do, and he chose to lump me in with the monsters chasing us. The way he looked at me, and the way he said it – I could understood why Jascia took offense to being called a demon. But I wasn’t like them. I was a mage, like Shawn and Al. I had powers like theirs – mine just operated a little differently. That’s all it was. Right?

“I’m not a demon.” I said, but the pronouncement lacked conviction. I’d caused a lot of pain, and I wasn’t so sure anymore. Who was I trying to convince, him or me? I cleared away the thoughts; I could have an identity crisis later. My voice strengthened.

“Bucket, I’m not going to steal your soul. I told you about my abilities. I just need to use different magic for us to escape.” I urged. He looked away in consternation. He made a sound of hesitant frustration.

“Fine.” He spat. I grabbed his arm. When I reached into him, however, it was clear that his ‘fine’ hadn’t been enough.

“You have to give me permission.” I told him.

“What do you mean?” He asked. “How?”

“I don’t know!” I replied. He gave me a look of disapproval. He didn’t say anything aloud, but his face said, ‘how do you not know how your powers work?’. “Just say I can have it!” I said, flustered. He sighed with even more frustration.

“You can have my energy.” He muttered reluctantly. That was enough. I inhaled deeply and a flood of power flowed into me. Bucket looked like he’d visibly aged. He sank back against the closet wall.

The light I received from him was heavy. I could feel the disappointment he’d eyed me with, and there was a depth to it. He was dismayed that he didn’t get to see a magic battle. He’d given up hope when he realized that I wasn’t strong enough to beat Atom. His judgment deepened as he saw me struggle with futility against our attackers. He lacked confidence in my ability to protect him. He’d resigned himself to death.

“Don’t worry, Bucket. Stay here.” I told him, pushing down the defeat his energy made me feel. “I’ll lure them away and take them down.” After taking the feelings he’d had, a little smile appeared on his face, and he nodded. Then he slumped into unconsciousness. Taking energy from the elderly was harder on them and it took longer for them to recover. After checking that he was alright, I went back into the hallway.

The additional energy bolstered my confidence. I looked back the way we’d come, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think I could take the trio head on. I kept moving forward and hid around the next corner. I peered back down the hallway, eager to get the jump on them, like a secret agent on a stealth mission.

After a few moments passed, my pursuers came into view, and I pulled my head back before they could notice me. I didn’t really want to catch another knife in the eye; after all, I still had the first one. I wouldn’t need it with new powers at my disposal, but it didn’t hurt to have a backup plan. When they got to me, I’d ambush them like I’d done with Señor Eyeball-spider-hand, but this time, I’d do it with magic. My brow furrowed. What magical ability did disappointment give?

I focused on the emotion and tried to visualize it, but my imagination wasn’t conjuring any imagery. It sat in my soul as a yellowish-green glow with maybe a bit of brown mixed in? I closed my eyes to concentrate on it. I tried to force some insight, but nothing showed up except the color. I guess, without knowing what it was, I couldn’t paint a picture of a scene. It was frustrating, but I had to know what I was dealing with, so I decided to use it and see. Energy expanded from my center, into my arm, and suffused my hand. It grew heavy and something started to coalesce. It seeped into my palm and plopped onto the floor.

“MUD?!” I shouted without restraint. “Disapproval makes mud?!” I just stared at the viscous wet earth as it dripped from my hand. I shook my head in disappointment and frustration, not just at the magic, but myself. I’d gotten distracted – again! I’d let my annoyance get the better of me, and the enemy definitely heard my outburst. There wouldn’t be any ambush now, especially not with mud. I had to continue running, but when I turned to do so, I plowed into a man.

It wasn’t Atom, it was the last demon. He stared with cold eyes into mine. A slow grin spread across his face – terror spread across mine. The man, who I assumed was Pain, slowly moved his hand to grab me – I was too frozen to move mine. His fingers closed around my wrist, and he spoke.

“You – are mine.” He said, and a white-hot pain, more than I’d ever felt before, shot through my entire body, radiating from his touch. It was so intense that my mouth opened to scream but no sound came out. The agony was greater than my torture as a kid, my entire body being caved in, and getting my face melted off combined. I struggled just to maintain consciousness but failed.

This time, however, my vision went white instead of black.