A spring breeze passes by as the world comes to its end. The beginning of his plan begins. His hatred and anger can finally be released, as the puppet walks a different path. The sentient punching bag, existing only out of spite. It can finally begin walking to the throne of the tormented god.
Silence. No one can think of a thing to say. Too scared to speak. A monster stands before them. A demon that wears the skin of their friend. The world crumbles around them, the only thing that exists is their fear.
Dean: Guys? Someone say something!
They're paralyzed. Liam tries to play with his long hair for some form of comfort. Both he and Carl step back. As they do, the other steps forward. The one who was almost completely silent. Jack. Dean crawls backward, scared of his friend. Uncertain of what he might do.
Jack: How long?
Dean: W-what? What do you mean?
Dean crawls back a few more feet. His sweat begins to drip more frequently, as his breathing becomes louder and more frantic.
Jack: How long have you had it? It's not a hard question.
It takes a few seconds for Dean to calm himself. The overwhelming fear makes him sick, but he forces it down as he takes a deep breath.
Dean: …
Nothing comes out. He couldn't speak. Jack's face twisted in anger. Dean's stomach began to feel worse, before a leg collided with his chest. He fell back, hitting his head on the ground. The world becomes more hazy as sound is replaced with ringing, and pain is the only thing that can be felt. His breaths come out in quick gasps for air with coughs in between. His hands rush to his chest, although he can't feel it.
Muffled screams can be heard behind the sirens of ringing. A shadow blocks the rays of sun in his face. Now vision too has started fading. More pain. It's harder for him to breathe. His hands have now rushed to his throat, but something blocks their path.
More shadows cover him, all backlit by the sun shining through the leaves. The muffled screams he once heard are now blocked out by attempts to cough, and fruitless gasps for a shred of oxygen.
The world fades away to black. He can't tell why. As it does, more sensations come to him other than pain. They're faint, still overshadowed. A warm liquid on his face. Spit from his coughs. His legs kicking and pushing against the ground, digging up the dirt in his struggle. And something warm around his neck closing off his throat. Preventing air from passing through.
Not a single thought goes through his head. Instead, he acts on pure instinct. His hands move from trying to get to his throat. Instead they head to the shadow above him. He fights back with the strength he still has. The idea of seeing the sun again becomes more and more bleak with each passing second.
His hands fall to the floor. His legs stop kicking. The world continues to fade away. The attempts to breathe continue, but with no reward. One last thought passes through his mind before he loses consciousness.
Dean (Inner): I'm dying. I'm never going to see color again. I need to get out of here. But I can't. I'm going to die.
The last sensation he feels is the newly familiar tingle in his chest. It's there for a second before everything disappears. Light, sound, and sensation have all vanished. Dean sits alone in an empty void, none of his senses active.
Sitting alone, waiting for something to happen, he slowly loses control of his emotions and what feels like years passes.
Dean (Inner): IS THIS DEATH!? JUST AN INFINITE BLACK VOID WHERE ONLY MY CONSCIOUSNESS REMAINS!? LET ME OUT! I DON'T WANT TO BE DEAD!
Powerless to do anything, he continues his travel through the void. No body parts remain to kill himself with. No eyes exist to close and fall asleep as he waits for this to pass. Nothing but his thoughts and black. No mouth to cry with. No legs to run away. Nothing but him.
Cold. Something. Something cold is felt. It's gone. So much hope gained and lost within the span of one second. It's back. The cold feeling. Along with other sensations. Faint pain. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind. The black void brightens up. His eyes slowly open before closing again as the sun blinds him.
He lays there in silence, savoring every second as he processes his situation, and assumes that it's soon to end. He focuses on everything. The taste of blood in his mouth. The wind passing by. The grass touching his skin. The tears rolling down the sides of his face. The pain in his throat, chest, and head. The sunshine beautifully reaching to him through the leaves, telling him that he's alive.
Once again, nothing comes out when he tries to speak. There's nothing to be said. After repeated attempts, he is finally able to get a noise out. A cry. His chest heaves and his vision becomes blurry as he begins to sob. The reality of what he just experienced comes to him. Face to face with death. Not knowing how he escaped.
After lifting his hands up to wipe his face, a new sensation appears. A new scent. It's familiar. His crying slowly subsides as he tries to figure out what it is. His eyes widen in fear when he figures it out.
Dean: Blood? Oh god… Oh my god. It's blood.
He lifts his head up a little to look at himself. Splotches of blood are scattered across his body. A pool of it next to him. The grass stained red from someone's remains. His eyes don't move. His whole body remains frozen in terror. This is too much blood to be his own. His stomach turns as he's finally able to look.
There, lying in the pool of blood, is a corpse. It's wearing a white shirt with black shorts. Dean is frozen for a moment, but quickly stands up and steps back. He hits a tree and steps forward a bit. His hands shoot up to cover his mouth, which only spreads more blood across his face.
Nausea. His hands move down to his stomach as he bends over. It's delayed. He ends up gagging for a second or two before anything comes out. His vision blurs once again from tears. He snaps his eyes shut, not wanting to see what lies in front of him again.
Dean (Inner): Look at it. Look at him. Jack. The man who tried to strangle you to death. You won. Look upon your victory. You live another day.
His eyes open. This time, his arms wrap around himself for comfort as he stares at the body. Dean can only assume it's Jack's body. The most defining feature of him is gone. Jack's head is nowhere to be found. Replaced by blood constantly pouring out of it.
The whole world shakes and screams. Dean's heart beats out of his chest as he begins to run.
Dean (Inner): Did I do that? No no no no no no. That couldn't have been me. I wouldn't. I wouldn't kill someone. That wasn't me. It wasn't me. I didn't do it. How could I have done something like that? What… What kind of power do I even have? Oh my god. I'm covered in his blood! Water! Where's the creek!?
Changing directions, he follows the nearby sound of flowing water. He doesn't slow down. Instead he runs straight into the water and falls into it, letting the current wash away his thoughts.
Dean (Inner): Covered in blood! I'm still covered in blood!
He scrubs at himself with his hands, trying to get the blood off.
Dean (Inner): My sweater. It's also covered in blood. Off. Get it off of me!
Dean forcefully pulls the sweater off and throws it into the creek. He watches it flow away as he catches his breath, before snapping his head down to check for any more blood on him. His shorts. There's still some of his shorts.
Dean (Inner): Doesn't matter. I was wearing all black underneath my sweater anyways. It looks dumb without the sweater, but it's still barely noticeable. I'll be fine.
Once his breath has slowed, he points his head up and closes his eyes, letting the cold water pass through his legs, and the sun shine on his wet body. A tranquil scene. Perfectly still. Only breathing. Everything starts to calm down. The thoughts of the past few minutes wash away in the water, like they never happened. Minutes pass as the world returns to peace.
Footsteps can be heard nearby. A few sets of footsteps. It sounds like running.
Dean (Inner): They're gonna see! They'll see the body and then see me here! I'll be arrested! I'll be killed!
Once again, frozen in fear. He stares into the forest as the footsteps get louder. His heartbeat gets faster as he starts to shake. Countless terrified thoughts race through his head.
Dean (Inner): I'M GOING TO DIE! THE BODY IS ONLY MAYBE LIKE A FEW HUNDRED FEET AWAY I THINK!?
The footsteps get louder. The source can be seen only for a split second before everything changes.
Dean: W-what the hell!?
He falls to the floor. No longer in water. His eyes snap back and forth, looking at everything as he tries to make sense of it all. He sees boxes of cereal lined up on shelves. Soft music plays overhead.
Dean (Inner): Am I in a supermarket? Could this be the convenience store Liam was talking about? No. I don't recognize this place at all.
Water drips off of his body onto the floor. He looks down at himself, his chest no longer glowing. But sure enough, he's not where he was five seconds ago. His panic returns.
Dean (Inner): What kind of power do I have!? Teleportation!? No that can't be it! Because then how would I have cut off Jack's head!?
Fear shoots up through his chest when he hears a cart being rolled towards him. A lady turns her cart and walks into the aisle Dean lays in. She stops in her tracks and stares at him in confusion.
Lady: Excuse me sir… are you okay?
Dean: Umm… I… yeah yeah… I'm okay I just… I'm fine.
Lady: Are you sure you're alright? You look cold. Why are you all wet?
Dean: That's uhh… a pretty long story.
Lady: You look rather young. Do you want me to drive you home so you don't have to walk in your wet clothes?
Dean: N-no. That's okay. Thanks though.
Dean stands up, slipping a little on the puddle below him. He forces a smile to the woman before turning around and walking away. While we walks, he looks up for a second and sees a security camera.
Dean (Inner): There's cameras! Did it see me!? Oh god! If the camera sees me leave this store without having footage of me entering then…
He hides his face and begins to sprint out of the store, praying that he wasn't caught on the camera. He's thankfully able to exit the store without slipping on his own wetness. Once he's outside, he quickly scans the environment, trying to figure out where he is.
Dean: No no no no… I'm lost. Shit shit I don't know where I am. Wait.
He puts his hand in his pocket to pull out his phone and look up directions. There's nothing there.
Dean (Inner): Are you kidding me? Seriously? Why why why!? It must've fallen out of my pocket while I was kicking my legs when Jack was choking me.
His stomach turns again. Not only because he remembered that he killed Jack, but also because his phone is at the crime scene. He grabs his head and squats down in fear.
Dean (Inner): It doesn't even have a password on it. The police. They'll see the body, link it to Jack being missing, then they'll see my phone and know that I did it. Even if they didn't suspect me by some miracle, they sure as shit would when Liam and Carl tell them what happened. I'm so dead. I'm so dead. Oh god.
Lady: Excuse me again?
Dean's head snaps around. He calms down once he realizes it's the woman from before.
Lady: You just said you were lost. Are you sure you don't want a ride home? I'd feel horrible leaving a lost kid here by himself without helping.
Dean stares at her for a few seconds. He wants to decline, but he knows that he has to accept her offer if he wants to get home.
Dean: Yeah… okay. Yeah I do need a ride. I'm sorry. I just didn't want to get your car all wet.
Lady: Oh no don't worry about that. I always keep a towel in the car.
Dean: You do?
Lady: Well my kids like to go swimming at the pool on their own without bringing towels. I can trust them to be safe on their own, but not to bring towels. So I'm just always prepared for that!
Dean feels a small wave of anger that he can't explain. He shakes it off and looks away as he responds.
Dean: Oh… yeah that makes sense.
She begins walking and waves for Dean to follow. He stumbles but does follow. Dean puts his hands in his pockets but pulls them out, the cold water soaked through being too uncomfortable.
When they get to the car, the woman sets the bags down and unlocks the car door. She pulls some glasses out of her pocket and puts them on before tying up her brown hair into a ponytail.
Lady: Could you put these in the trunk please? The towels are back there too so feel free to grab one!
Dean doesn't respond. He just opens the trunk, struggling for a few seconds to figure out how. Once it opens, he begins putting the bags in. They're not too heavy, and there's only two, so it doesn't take him long. After he finishes, he finds one of the towels and wraps it around himself, drying his hair as he walks to the passenger side of the car.
Dean: It's cool if I sit in the front right?
Lady: Of course yes! By the way, what's your name? Also I need your address obviously, but it is nice to know the name of the kid riding in my car.
She chuckles after she finishes speaking. Dean lays the towel down on the seat and sits down. He gives her his address as he buckles his seatbelt.
Dean: My name's Dean.
Lady: That's a cute name! Mine's Bella!
She holds out her hand to Dean.
Bella: Nice to meet you, Dean!
Dean stares at her hand for a second before shaking it. He doesn't grip her hand, or shake. He just holds it. He's still scared of what his power might be, and doesn't want to accidentally hurt this nice woman.
Bella: Alright well let's get going then!
She puts the keys in the ignition and begins pulling out of the parking spot. As they drive, Dean fidgets uncomfortably in the car seat.
Bella: You okay there, Dean?
Dean: Hm? Oh uhh yeah. I'm good.
He stares out the window as his leg begins to bounce. Bella is quick to notice how he's feeling based on his body language.
Bella: If I may, why were you all wet on the floor back there? Did something happen? It's none of my business of course! But if you're willing to tell, then I'm willing to listen.
Dean bites his lip, considering what he should respond with. The image of Jack's headless body lying in a pool of his own blood flashes in Dean's mind, making him start to tear up. His hands move up to wipe his tears, but his crying continues. Bella sits in silence with a frown, waiting for Dean to speak.
His emotions get the better of him. He doesn't want to say anything, but he desperately needs to tell someone. To vent. To let out his emotions. He curls up into a ball, waiting for his breathing to calm down before he speaks.
Dean: My friend… H-he… he died…
Bella's frown deepens. It takes her a minute to respond.
Bella: Wow. I'm sorry Dean. Stuff like that really sucks doesn't it? But I know what you're feeling here.
Dean: No you don't. You have no idea what this feels like. I hate myself. Don't act like you do.
Bella: You're absolutely right. The grief of loss is different for everyone. And I get what you mean. You feel like it's your fault right? Well it's not. Don't beat yourself up about something that's out of your control okay?
Dean balls his hands into fists.
Bella: Back when my sister, Kate died around… sixteen years ago I think it was. Anyways, it was the worst experience of my life. And it wasn't just my sister. Our mom died too. I was left alone. I hated everything. Blamed myself for still being alive. There were times when I didn't want to.
Dean's crying has stopped. His hands have loosened. He lifts his head up and looks at Bella through his teary eyes.
Dean: How did you get through that? How'd you move on?
Bella chuckles and glances at Dean with a smile before speaking.
Bella: Well that's the thing Dean. I didn't. It still haunts me to this day. But I have been able to distract myself from that pain. I've tried coming to terms with it, but you never really do. Having a family of my own does make it a lot better. Everyday I hope that I'm being better than my own mother was. And that I don't someday tear the family apart like she did.
Dean stares at her in confusion.
Dean: What? How are you…? How can you smile and laugh while talking about this? What's wrong with you!?
His eyes start to blur again. He quickly wipes them but they return.
Dean: Yeah you have your family. But what will I have!? Nothing! That's what I'll have! Not a single thing! Except my regrets.
Bella: Oh Dean. That's not true at all. You'll always have somewhere there to support you. Whether you realize it or not. Someone out there will always love you. Always hope for you to wake up in the morning and make it home safely. The only way that things could get worse is if you let them. God doesn't want people to suffer.
Dean: Well maybe he does. Maybe I'm just unlucky.
Bella: Again Dean. What you're saying just isn't true. Today might be bad, but what about tomorrow? Or next week? Next month? It has to get better eventua-
Dean: IT WON'T! IT WON'T GET BETTER!
They sit in silence for a few seconds and Dean tries to control his breathing.
Bella: If that's what you think, then I'm very sorry for you.
Dean's angered expression vanishes instantly upon hearing Bella's words. He slumps in his seat and remains silent for the rest of the ride. There's no music playing in the car, leaving both of them to think about their conversation. A few minutes pass before Bella parks the car on Dean's street.
Bella: Well… we're here. Good luck, Dean.
Dean: Thanks for the ride.
He hops out of the car and walks to the door. Bella waits for him to get inside before driving away, still frowning about Dean's struggles.
Dean takes a deep breath as he enters his home. The familiar and comfortable scent filling his nose as he begins to calm down. He takes his wet shoes off and walks to his room, passing the kitchen to get something to drink. His dad is cooking dinner.
Dean: Hey dad.
His dad is around 5'11". A lot taller than Dean's 5'6". He likes to keep a beard, but at a medium length. He's a pretty cool dude and is usually the highlight of any gathering or party they attend.
Dean's dad: Oh hey what's going on? How'd you get into my house you little freak? Might just have to call the cops on you.
Dean chuckles before heading to his room. A few drops of water fall onto the floor as he walks.
Dean's dad: You better be cleaning that up. What got you all wet anyways? Someone throw you into the creek or something?
Dean: No uh. Well actually yeah kind of. My uhh… My sweater got lost too. Took it off and it drifted away.
Dean's dad: Good thing you got more then huh? Gotta be more careful kid. Go take a shower and warm up. Don't want you getting sick. You still got school tomorrow.
Dean (Inner): School. School. I have school tomorrow. How the hell am I gonna go to school tomorrow? I can't. Liam and Carl will see me. Hell, they've probably already told the cops everything that's happened. No doubt about that. It's only a matter of time before they come for me. I can't go to school. Dad already thinks I'll get sick. I can just fake it.
Dean: I think I already am sick to be honest. My chest has hurt and it's been pretty hard to breathe. My nose is super runny too.
Dean's dad: Well that's just some allergies. You'll be a-okay. But I suppose you could pretend that you're really sick. Mom doesn't have to know.
Dean: Wait really? You'd help me skip tomorrow?
Dean's dad: Of course! Everybody deserves a day where they can kick back right? You've been workin' hard lately!
Dean: Thanks dad! But yeah I probably should take a shower before I get sick for real.
He grabs some clothes from his dresser and goes to the bathroom. After a few seconds of adjusting the temperature, he steps in. The warm water falls onto him, splashing off of his body, melting away the events of the day. Only it doesn't.
Warm water. Warm like blood. The image of Jack's body flashes in his mind again, making him feel sick. He grabs the soap and frantically washes his body, trying to clean himself from the thoughts. It doesn't work.
Dean continues to feel dirty, no matter how much he washes himself. He steps out of the shower and starts drying off, refusing to look at himself in the mirror.
The rest of the day progresses rather normally. Dean and his dad eat dinner while watching tv. Usually Dean would watch something on his phone, but that option isn't available to him anymore.
Dean's dad: Let's see what's on the news huh? What kinda funky stuff happened today?
Dean (Inner): Wait! Maybe they'll have something about me on the news!
Dean: No, that's okay! We don't have to! Let's just watch something else, okay!?
Dean's dad: Jeez, Dean. Just say it's boring.
Dean lets out a small sigh of relief as his dad changes the channel. He snuggles up under his blanket and eats his food, trying to find some sort of comfort.
He goes to bed at ten, but doesn't fall asleep until one. The events of the day won't stop replaying in his mind. The day that his life would change. How could he sleep after something like that?
Dean (Inner): I almost died today. I'll probably die tomorrow. If not, then the day after. I'll die soon. Unless I want to run off to the bad part.
His eyes widen as he realizes something.
Dean (Inner): The bad part. That's where Ashley's concert is. It's in the goddamn bad part. Awesome! I did this to myself! I wanted to go and now I have the opportunity!
He starts to laugh as tears fall down the sides of his face. He tries to keep it quiet to not alert his parents, but he doesn't do it very well. He lifts his hand up and closes it softly, imagining that he's holding Ashley's hand. He closes his eyes and thinks about her. Her blonde hair that almost reaches her shoulders, with purple and pink hair dye at the end. The scar or birthmark under her right eye. Her beautiful face.
Dean (Inner): Does she wear makeup in her pictures? Probably but… It's hard to tell.
Dean has stopped crying. All of his thoughts have vanished, instead replaced by the image of his crush. He slowly begins to imagine his hand sliding down from her face, to a lower part of her body. He stops himself, dropping his hand and opening his eyes before he imagines anything else.
Dean (Inner): I… Why am I like this?
He sighs and rolls over, bundling himself up and squeezing his eyes shut.
Dean (Inner): I'm pathetic.
After another hour of staring blankly at the wall, he manages to fall asleep. Only a few hours pass before his mom bursts into his room.
Dean's mom: Rise and shine Dean! I heard you were sick, so guess who's gonna take care of you all day! That's right! It's me!
Dean: Uuuugggghhhhhh moooommmmm get out.
His mom's expression switches from cheerful to strict.
Dean's mom: Dean get your lying ass out of that bed. I know you aren't sick. You're lucky as shit that your dad convinced me to let you skip today.
Dean: Dude I barely even slept last night. Please just lemme sleep.
Dean buries his face in his pillow and throws his blanket over himself. His mom yanks his blanket off the bed.
Dean's mom: I don't think you heard me, Dean. Get. Your ass. Out. Of the damn bed.
Dean groans and slowly gets up, rubbing his eyes to even see. He follows his mom out of the room and checks the time before going to the bathroom.
Dean: Bro it's 6:30 in the morning! Why do I have to be up this early!?
Dean's mom: Don't call me bro, Dean. And if you're gonna skip, then you still gotta wake up at the normal time.
Dean: W-what!? That's bullshit dude! Why can't I just sleep?
He's really frustrated at this point. His mom glares at him.
Dean's mom: I'm about to make your ass go to school with a red handprint on your face if you don't respect my rules.
Dean groans again and walks to the living room. His mom fixes her hair in the bathroom mirror. Both of them are still wearing their pajamas. In fact, his mom had woken up ten minutes earlier. They were both to start the day at the same time.
Once he reaches the couch, he flops down on it and quickly falls asleep. His mom comes out a few minutes later and flicks him to wake him up.
Dean: Ow! Dude!
Dean's mom: Don't be a baby. I know that didn't hurt.
His mom sits down on the couch with pride. Dean sits up but crosses his arms and scoots away from her.
Dean's mom: Oh hey can you do me a favor real quick?
Dean: I dunno can I?
Dean's mom: Can you message your dad something for me. My phone is in my room but I assume you have yours on you.
Dean's eyes widen in fear. He instantly remembers everything that happened the previous day as his soul sinks into the couch.
Dean (Inner): My phone. My phone. I lost it. What am I gonna say? She's gonna scream or beat me no matter what I say.
Dean: Oh yeah funny story about that actually.
Her expression shifts to anger hidden behind curiosity. She slowly turns her head to face Dean.
Dean's mom: Oh yeah? Well then let me hear it. I'm all ears.
He sinks into the couch uncomfortably. He can barely get the words out of his mouth.
Dean: Remember how I lost my sweater in the creek yesterday? My phone may have possibly maybe perhaps been in my sweater pocket. Funny right?
Dean (Inner): OH GOD THAT WAS TERRIBLE! WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY THOUGH!? OH HEY MOM SO ACTUALLY MY PHONE FELL OUT OF MY POCKET WHILE I WAS BEING CHOKED TO DEATH BY MY FRIEND! IT'S ALL GOOD THOUGH BECAUSE I SOMEHOW CUT HIS HEAD OFF WITH MY POWER! OH BY THE WAY I HAVE A POWER! Sounds awesome.
Dean's mom: You did… What now? This is a joke right? Dean?
Dean: Nope. Nope. It's not a joke. Sorry.
She doesn't respond. Instead, she turns on the tv and stares at it with a blank expression. Somehow it makes Dean feel worse than if she were to yell.
Dean: S-sorry…
Dean's mom: Shut the hell up.
He instantly shuts his mouth and faces the screen, curling up as he watches. It's the news.
Dean: Oh mom hey can we-
Dean's mom: Unless you're gonna get me my phone then shut up.
He nods his head and hops off the couch, speed walking to his mom's room to retrieve her phone. He returns less than a minute later.
Dean: Here. Can we watch something else by the way? The news is pretty boring.
She gets up from the couch and begins texting his dad.
Dean's mom: Yeah whatever. Watch whatever you want. I don't care.
That simple, uncaring response. How is it so much worse than being yelled at?
Most of the day progresses normally. Dean continues to watch tv on the couch while his mom does whatever. It's around time for his dad to come home, and he flips to the news channel before accidentally dropping the remote. As he reaches down for it, he hears something.
TV: Yesterday, a young boy was killed by means of a power. The murderer is a sixteen year old boy named Dean Jeeves. Not only were there eye witnesses but his phone was left at the scene of the crime.
Dean doesn't move. He just listens with fear.
TV: The witnesses told us his address, to which police are on their way. And they informed us about the power he possesses. He can create portals when a birthmark on his chest glows blue. An image of the boy is on the screen now. Be careful if you encounter him, and notify authorities. Thankfully the threat should be dealt with soon.
The moment he finishes talking, Dean turns the tv off. His heart beats incredibly fast as he sits back up. His whole body shudders as he hears a voice behind him.
Dean's mom: Dean… What was that?