Thank you :) I had never done this before, so I am glad someone liked it!

This was brilliantly written, well done!

"I'll make sure the juniors are punished thoroughly" Terry had replied

and with that, we parted ways, until we would next meet.

Didn't realize who would pay the "Cost" of the prank until the last paragraph. Well done!!!

So good

[removed]

Apocalypseowl is a Writingprompts legend. What you wrote is worthy of the comparison. I applaud you for this masterpiece.

Would be interesting to see Energiser gradually develop Stockholm Syndrome as he’s exposed to more and more of Stormwind’s business

This read like Douglas Adams and it made me so happy!

He's just a black market guy, not someone who's REALLY a threat lmao. Sure there's the occasional murder, but only as and when necessary. Tbh I'm wondering if I could make a series out of this?

That last little bit at the end where the villain actually, in his own way, shows compassion for the people he’s abducted is probably my favorite part personally

<Part 2>

"Me?"

"Yes. You." Terry flinched at the small, cold smile Danielle gave him. "Because this is your one chance to stop me. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to wake up and check a news site, or a news paper, or maybe just do a search for top new headlines. It doesn't matter where I look, because every front page is going to be the story of what you're doing today.

"I want those children punished.I want the heroes and officials and policemen who looked the other way held accountable. I want every single person involved in this tragedy to know they didn't get away with it. And I want to be satisfied, truly satisfied, when I read about what you did to give my son justice. And I suggest you record the whole thing, because I will find out if you try to deceive me about any of it."

"Dani, I don't have the power to do that!" Triumph cried. He didn't even try to make a move towards her. He'd felt how fast she'd taken it away. She could see his mind racing, trying to find the right words now that all his strength had betrayed him.

"You do. You really do. I should know, I just felt every last drop of it. You have the power to do almost anything, you just don't like how you're going to have to use it." Danielle tilted her head, distantly surprised at how calm and unsympathetic she felt in that moment, after a lifetime of self control and empathy. "And I don't even know what to tell you to do that would satisfy me, because I don't know, I really don't. But if I read that headline tomorrow, and it falls even a little short of making things right...

"Oh. Oh my." Danielle shook her head. "You do not want to find out what's going to happen then. No more rules, no more playing nice. Just a mother who's lost her child, and the world that took him away from her. That's it."

"Dani, please. Don't-"Triumph started to say.

"Nope, we're done here." Danielle strolled over to pat Triumph on the shoulder. "You have one day to save the world as we know it and possibly everyone in it. Better get going." And Danielle left him, walking back towards the parking lot, thoughts once again turning in a strange direction.

The hero, a paragon of integrity and decency, forced to make hard decisions for the greater good. Possibly even forced to use evil's own cruel methods to defeat it. Is that a cliche? Maybe. Then again, maybe it just depends on how far it gets taken. Either way, can't wait to read about it tomorrow.

"Do you think I'm a bad dad?"

"What? No! No I don't think that."

"But."

"... Well."

Sunlight struggles to piece the veil of a cloud-smothered sky. Particles of irradiated dust filter down from the upper atmosphere, energized by the sun's rays above, they release their charge as a sickly green glow, falling to the Earth like so many fireflies, lighting one last signal before their end. The temperature on the surface is a balmy 250°F, humidity locked at 100% ever since the oceans boiled off.

"There might be some folks still out there! In a bunker underground?"

"No I checked. Last one burned out a few years ago. Water dispute got out of hand, shots fired, temperature control systems damaged, dead."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Shit."

Not that it would have mattered. Tectonic rifts, newly formed due to the increasing heat and pressure on the surface, will eventually subsume and crush any subterranean holdouts. Already in places the ground is turning to sludge, bio-organic compounds breaking down in the hot, acidic air and melting into the earth like a perverse reenactment of the process that turned the dinosaurs into petroleum.

"Have you tried fish people?"

"Fish people?"

"Yeah, like Riley did."

"Fuck Riley. Riley's an asshole. I'm not doing fish people."

"I'm just saying, it worked."

"If you like sycophantic idiots, building temples out of whale bones and going, 'mawk mawk mawk!' all the time. Sure. I'm not doing fish people."

"Then what do you want?"

"I dunno, I just want normal people, you know? Just some normal, fucking boring-ass people, who don't keep trying to conquer the stars, or blow themselves up, or starve themselves thinking it'll turn them into pure energy or something. I just want like, somebody I could have a beer with."

"You wanna create an entire universe, and all the life inside of it, just so you can hang out and have a beer in it?"

"Yeah, is that so wrong?"

Somewhere, a deafening crack rings out as a sludge pool bleeds into a deep-crust caldera, triggering an explosion that rocks the planet like a sledgehammer hitting a basketball. The shockwave rips a hole in the atmosphere, exposing the planet's seeping wound for all the universe to see. In the sky above, a moonbase transmits its last automated distress signals. Its inhabitants already left long ago. Their bodies can be found seated in a small circle, about a hundred meters away, holding hands as they let the oxygen slowly bleed out of their tanks.

"What if you just tried doing nothing?"

"Just do nothing?"

"Yeah. Light the spark and then just sit back and watch."

"How's that supposed to help?"

"I dunno. Can't be worse than what you've tried so far."

"Shit."

"Mm-hm."

"Shit!"

And so--

Danielle stood over the grave of his son as the rain poured down, one thought looping through her mind.

God this is such a cliche.

A horrible thought to have when she could have been remembering all the times she'd had with her son.

But to be fair, it really was a cliche. The pouring rain and clouded sky mirroring hir grief. The solitary figure alone over the interred body of her son. Heck, it was even late fall so all the trees were barren of leaves. She contemplated stopping the rain, but everyone with sufficient power to control the weather was currently out of range, and there was something almost soothing of having the very weather reflect how you felt inside.

How did it all turn into a cliche? Danielle wasn't even sure how long she'd been standing there, let alone how many times she'd asked himself that same question. I've spent my entire life avoiding the cliche. Changing the story, making the unexpected happen. Well, you didn't expect this, did you?

"Hello Danielle."

Danielle glanced over her shoulder, saying nothing. Even if she wouldn't have recognized that voice anywhere, David had sensed him approaching from miles away, a warm little glow in the back of her mind, and they both knew it. The handsome man with a bodybuilder's physique was only a few paces away, sheltering under an umbrella in a formal black suit.

"I'm so sorry for you loss."

Danielle remained silent, turning back to her son's headstone.

"It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did." The visitor tried again, the barest hint of strain entering a voice that normally held nothing but pure confidence. "You know how kids are, especially ones with real power. It goes to their head. They get reckless, egg each other on, make mistakes. And... and I can tell you that they're really torn up about this. They're having a hard time accepting wha-"

"So that wasn't them celebrating their big win a few nights back, partying the night away? Toasting the highlights of their 'epic battle'? Did their mentors even scold them once they knew, or hand wave it away as the cost of raising the next generation of 'heroes'?" Danielle interrupted, looking over her shoulder again. "When was the last time you tried to lie straight to my face? It's been years, at the least."

The man said nothing.

"Well answer me this. Are you as Triumph, or is it just Terry today?" Danielle asked. "I would genuinely like to know."

"I don't know," He shrugged. "What would help you more right now, Dani?"

"I don't know either." Danielle looked back at the gravestone, one last time. Wow, you are just full of cliches today, aren't you?

"I'll tell you this though." Danielle finally turned away from her precious child's resting place, giving her friend and career-long nemesis her full attention. "I'm a little surprised you came alone. My best guess was that you'd have brought half the League for an ambush. You know I'm not just going to let this slide, so you would have tried to nip it in the bud."

"You know me so well." Triumph smiled sadly. "I actually did try to do that, but, well..."

"But no one believes the Prankster is actually a threat. After all, she's just a joke. A clown who pops over inflated egos and isn't worth the effort of catching. No one ever really gets hurt fighting her. No one innocent ever dies. I bet they laughed when you tried to tell them."

"I know you're strong, Dani, stronger than you ever let on. Stronger than most of the League." The warm glow in the back of her mind brightened, as Triumph gathered his power. "But so am I. You've never seen me go all out before, and I'm sorry today you-"

Dani reached out and took the warm glow away. She didn't flex or quip or move at all. One moment, Triumph was indestructible and strong to level a building with one blow, mentally preparing himself, and the next, it all belonged to Dani, and Triumph was left impotent. She'd always been able to feel the powers of the supers and villains around her, instinctively known she could just reach out and take them.

But honestly, where was the fun in that? It had always seemed to boring, to just take it all. The fun had been in taking little slices, and then still pulling off the joke. So little no one ever noticed it was gone.

Danielle wasn't really in the mood for fun anymore.

"How..." Terry was kneeling on the ground, arms shaking. It seemed like there were some side effects to having the entirety of one's superpowers ripped away. He looked up at her, and for the first time in their long rivalry, Danielle saw real fear etched into him. "No, that doesn't matter. What are you going to do?"

Danielle looked down at her hand and squeezed it into a fist, felt the inhuman strength pulsing through her. She could have cracked a diamond with the power she'd just exerted. It would be the work of minutes to fly through the air, smash into the tower of those arrogant little children and make them regret every choice they had ever made to bring them to this point. She wouldn't even need to use Triumph's power to do it, she could just take theirs away as well, and the powers of anyone who tried to stop her. On and on, until there was no one left but her.

A supervillain seizing power and swearing revenge on an unjust world, using any and all means to reshape it into whatever they desired. Heroic last stands and brave speeches to rally anyone and everyone to stop the madwoman. Just like everyone expected. Just like how the story always went.

She didn't want to do that. She wanted a different story. Something people wouldn't expect. Something that might actually change the stories that were told.

"God, even now, I can't help but hate cliches." Danielle murmured to herself.

And then she let the power go, the warm glow rushing back to its original owner.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do." Danielle said as Triumph rose back to his feet. "I'm going to walk over to my car and go home. I'm going to cook my meals and talk with a few friends as they try to console me, and I'm going to mourn my child. I'm going to spend the entire day ignoring everything else in the world, just me and my memories, and then I'm going to go to sleep. The real question is what are you going to do?"

<Continued in Comments>

Weasel #35 waddles into the room just as I finish my cotton candy.

"My lord, my jester I mean... I have news about your son."

I sit up in my chair. "Yes, today marks his first villain anniversary, right? Thank you, 35, I had forgotten." I open my chair to enter my son's house across the world, but a paw on my shoulder stops me.

35 looks absolutely terrified as I turn my head. "Sir, you won't be able to find your son there."

I sigh in relief. "Oh thank goodness. 35, you had me convinced something has happened to my son. He must be out doing his 'real villain' stuff right now, I'll pop in later."

I close the chair and sit back down, but 35 still holds his expression. "well..." he squeaks out at last. "Something has happened to your son. You see... the Junior league killed him."

Fury shoots up like a Jack-in-the-box inside of me. "The juniors KILLED HIM?!" my mind is wobbling like a slinky. The Junior League never kill! Even against Jack Jr., they shouldn't have resorted to that! I know us Chesters are hard to pin down, but this? I slam the chair open again. This time it opens to the hideout of the Juniors. 35 protests weakly, but I cut him off by closing the wall I just stepped out of.

Silently, I stalk towards the main room of the hideout. I've been here many times, mostly to set up pie-in-the-face traps, so I know the way through the annoyingly dusty halls of the Junior League HQ. I only get a few steps towards the first corner when a very shiny person walks by.

The star of the Heroic World, Light Muscleboy, stands before me. For a guy so easy to spook, he looks fearless as he stares me down. Muscleboy holds up a hand. "Listen, Jack. It was an accident. There is no need to do what you are about to do."

"An accident?" I spit, taking a step closer. "The death of my son was an accident? That excuse holds up as well as your relationships, Light, and you know it."

I take another step. The Shining Knight seems to falter slightly. Expected, but still a little disappointed. "Jack, they do not know your powers. They expect you to, I don't know, put weasels in their bed, or gum in their hair. They don't know, Jack!" Muscleboy's voice shakes a little on the last sentence.

I'm so close I can smell his disgustingly minty breath. "Listen to me, Light." I poke his chestplate and slinky starts to wrap around him. "You know what *I* didn't expect? I didn't expect to lose my ONLY SON TODAY!"

The slinky has rendered the Knight immobile except for tremors of fear. "They are someone's sons too. Please."

I tap his chest again and he falls over. "Then those parents will be in for a..." I giggle as the thought comes to me. "*Surprise.*"

I turn and open the wall, walking straight into the main room. Five kids stand before me, and all have defiant eyes as they turn to look me in the face. A blonde kid points at me. "Jack Chester, you die here." A threat of death? They must have changed their no kill policy. I shrug off the thought, I'll deal with it later. Right now all that matters is this moment.

I glance at each of them, looking down at them through my nose. "Alright, pipe up. Who killed my son?" as soon as I finish asking the question, I start the timer in my head. *All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel.*

Everyone looks at some short kid on a couch by himself. He's clad in blue, hood concealing his face. He lazily raises a hand. *the monkey paused to pull up his sock.* "Yeah." The kid says in an infuriatingly uninterested tone. "It was me."

Behind my back, I point a gun at the wall behind me. "Let this be a lesson to you kids." The blue hero makes a choking sound and slumps over, a piece of candy corn portruding from the back of his head. *POP! goes the weasel.*

The 4 remaining supers step back from me. One rushes over to the blue kid, seemingly ignoring that I dropped through the floor onto the couch. His hands glow green, but when nothing happens he looks frantically to the others. "I can't heal him!"

A healer, eh? I laugh, the sound drawing the teens' eyes. "So you can only heal people? That means you had nothing to do with my son's death." The kid stares at me. "Right?" I growl. He frantically nods, scooting ever so slightly away from me.

I clasp my hands like I'm closing a deal. "Sweet. You can live to tell the Hero Council about what's about to happen." I stand and open all the walls, turning the room into an infinite void.

All furniture disappears, leaving just me, the remaining 4 heroes, and the corpse of the blue one. The blonde kid adjusts fast, slinging some sort of golden cord at me. I'm instantly behind him though, sticking a piece of gum to his chin. I teleport again, yanking on the gum. His neck snaps and he stops moving. The healer screams, a shrill sound not unlike a rusty crank on a wind up toy. A kid in all red twists his body to look at his mate, then the healer, then me. "Where are we? What do we do?" He asks frantically.

I straighten my polka dotted tie. "You can't do anything. I can teleport through walls, and I have made this whole room my infinite wall. This is my masterpiece. This is Jack's box.

I gum the kid like i did the blondie but he doesnt die when i yank his neck. Oh boy, he's like taffy! I manipulate the room so that I am on both sides of him, and pull him until he becomes as thin as licorice. I take the boy-cord and use it to strangle the last one, who has been frozen this entire time. I knot the cord and bring the room back to normal.

The healer is crying now, bawling his face off. I kneel down in front of him, my rage fading. "Go tell the council now, boy. And make sure my son's funeral is on every channel."

I teleport back to my chair, where 35 is still nibbling his claws. He hands me a cotton candy, but my tears ruin the whole thing.

That was horrific, to say the least. I don’t blame them, though.

Good job.

m8! It was intense and well structured at the same time. Like a first page of the book. Keep it up!

[removed]

"Bloodroot and maidenhair, STAT." Lauren'rt cried desperately, his knitted hands pressed over the wound. Already blood was pooling in the symbols carved into the healing tree stump, activating the passive wards to promote healing and strengthen the patient lain atop, but it was like throwing a pail of water at dragonfire.

His halfling assistant, Callalily, handed him the spell components and he instantly started chanting the words of a healing spell. Warmth flowed down his arms and into his glowing hands. At the edges of the gash the flesh started to knit together again and the wound began to close. Lauren'rt let himself release a deep sigh. He glanced at his unconcious patient's near perfect elven features, agelessly beautiful with just the slightest hint of care lines around the closed eyes. The kingdom couldn't afford to lose it's queen.

Suddenly she arched her back and cried out. Something icy cold and evil seemed to writhe under his hands, like a fish from some lightless pool, deep in the depths of the netherworld. The wound reopened impossibly. "It's like it's fighting me." he muttered under his breath, then shouted "We're losing Her! Fetch the healing crystal!" Callalily seemed to teleport across the room to the shelf holding the precious stones and back.

"Link with me and we'll use it as an arcane focus." Lauren'rt cried. They quickly stood themselves on either side of her both holding the faintly effulgent crystal above her chest. "Chant Ambrosius's allcure with me on one. Three, two, one." They chanted the words of the spell together. Lauren'rt watched the colour return to the queen's pale skin as the light in the healing crystal dimmed and faded. When they said the final words it finally went out and the crystal crumbled into sparkling dust which Lauren'rt blew away while still in the air.

"That should do it." said Lauren'rt, feeling the fresh scar on the Queen's side: the unnatural cold was gone, but there was still something evil present; if sleeping for now.

"You almost lost Her." a harsh voice from across the room said "We should have known better than to trust Her to a human and his halfling pet, no matter your reputation." Lauren'rt hadn't even noticed the Prince-Consort until now, he stood resplendent in ornate golden armour, flanked by captain generals of his faction. "A simple wound like this would barely trouble a village crone amongst our people. If the Queen didn't favour you I'd have you in irons for incompetence"

"The assassin's knife was poisoned, Lord, with wyvern venon and an orphan's bitter thoughts, so we drove the posion into a spotless milk white billy goat and cut it's throat; then the wound became infected with the red rot, so we burned a statue of the Witch Goddess Heca carved of pearwood from the dark orchards of Dis and made her drink the ashes mixed with a widow's tears; now the wound has mysteriously reopened and a curse tried to keep it open. This is no ordinary healing, someone is trying to thwart me, someone close."

The Prince-Constort, still flanked by his captains, stalked up until he could put his flawless face right into Lauren'rt's "I don't want to hear your excuses" he snarled through bared teeth "Or your baseless conspiracy theories." he grabbed Lauren'rt's collar with one hand thrust an outstretched finger into his face "If she dies, so do you and the half-pint." He spat, then turned and strode out. Lauren'rt waited until he was gone then daintily wiped his face with an embroidered handkerchief.

"Half-Pint? Half-pint!" said Callalily nearly vibrating with anger "I could drink a flagon to his flute and still walk away leaving his-pointy-earship to sleep it off under the table."

"His rudeness, though all-encompasing, is the least of his sins" said Lauren'rt "His hands smelt of doll's eyes."

"Doll's eyes?" asked Callalily, confused

"Have I really taught you nothing in all this time? Yes doll's eyes." Lauren'rt stared at her.

"Uh, uh. I can't think.. What do doll's eyes even smell like?"

Lauren'rt walked over to a table piled with ingredients and components and picked up a sprig of berries.

"hmm?" he smiled at Callalily

"Oh! Doll's eyes!" She claped her hands delightedly "A type of baneberry. Deadly poisonous, even a few stop the heart. But it can be used in spells to cure rheumatism and heart failure and... oh yes.. and in adaptive curses." she looked at him wide-eyed "but for those to work the caster has to reinforce them each day by touching the victim on the lips."

"Indeed."

"And I thought it was sweet he kissed her every day! What an utter scuzzbucket!"

"The other problem with adaptive curses is, of course, that with a little ingenuity they can be made to rebound on the caster. All we'd need is some doll's eyes of our own, a brass mirror, some gravemould, dead man's fingers, a personal object of the curser as a focus and something of them, nail clippings, a lock of hair, blood, spit."

"How are we going to get all that?" asked Callalily "the berries, the fungus and the mirror I can get down the market if we've none in stock but a personal object and some toenail clippings or blood, we can't very well ask him for it, and he'll be on his guard."

"You'd have thought so." said Lauren'rt and he took out the embroidered handkerchief.

"That's not yours."

"It must have floated from his sleeve into my pocket while he was engaged in threatening me, face to face; rather damply I might add."

"Reversing a curse, it's dark magic ain't it? Pretty much necromancy."

"Yes. I don't care. Do you?"

"Naww.."

"Then let's crack on. Or do you think we should inform the Prince-Consort that we've discovered the root cause of the Queen's problems and have a solution at hand first?"

"Oh I'm sure he'll find that out soon enough. Half-pint. 'Swhat you get."

"And if he should get sick he can always find a village crone to heal him."

Nice!

This is amazing!

It triggering people wasn't the issue, but the sub rules say poems need to be tagged [POEM]. If you repost it with that tag it'll probably be fine.

Disclaimer: Not A moderator

I stared out the window thinking about my son for hours. The hours flowed by and the life seemed to drain out of me as the time rolled on. I had so many dreams for him, so many ambitions. Though I knew that I would never be a perfect father, I wanted to love him for the rest of my life. Really, all I ever wanted for him was happiness, and now that was snuffed out.

Throughout my life, I had never once felt hatred. I had not liked people, and therefore I would prank them to get even. But now, something had changed inside me entirely. Not many people knew how much I had held myself back except Hix. Hix was the only hero in the world I held some respect for, and though I would still pull my antics on him, I ensured that it was never anything too serious.

Now, in the midst of my son's death, he was the only one beside me. Maybe he was a friend, maybe he was just there because his role called for it, I didn't care. He looked over at me and kept quiet for a while but then finally spoke up.

"Well, I am sure you have some nasty prank up your sleeve, right Jinx?"

"No. This is different. A prank would be glossing over it like it didn't happen. They knew my son was weaker than them and only wanted to be friends with them. Yet still, now he's dead and it's all their fault."

"They're just kids, Jinx. They made it a poor decision and it got him killed."

"Poor decision? You call setting him for the "greatest prank ever" and then running him over with a car is just a poor decision?! It's intentional homicide."

"We don't know tha - "

"I do. I know it for sure and there's nothing you can do to change my mind."

Nix sighed and stared at me for a moment.

"So what will you do? Kill them to get even?"

"No, and you know that's not my style."

"Ok, but I know you're planning something, so what will you do?"

"I am going to do The Prank."

"You wouldn't. Even I know that's too far out of character for you."

"You know that I have already made up my mind right, nix?"

"Yeah Jinx, I do. Well look, your grieving and decisions after have nothing to do with me, so I am gonna go and pretend that this isn't gonna happen."

Before I had a chance to respond, he was gone. My only close ally was gone and so was my son. But, I didn't care. I had to get even.

The prank was the ultimate role reversal that I had devised and never executed on because I knew the irreparable harm it would cause to my reputation, and I was never in the mindset to do it. Today though, everything changed. Pranks to me are really just an insecure way to jest at someone with actions instead of words. While most of mine were harmless, some did cause harm. The Prank however, was a whole different level. It involved a combination of actions and psychological techniques to leave the victims trapped in it forever.

---

I watched the teens for days on end, mapping their every move. I learned about their mannerisms and habits that could be used as weak points and soon I knew everything that I needed to know. Since they were all boys, I knew that they would be ruthless if physicality came into the picture, so I had to be careful. Then, I began my revenge. I made a costume based on the female character of the show that they loved to watch and even found a way to virtually change my appearance on the outside for a time. When I was done, I looked perfect.

I walked past the teens on their way home from school and pretended to drop something in front of them. They all stumbled over themselves to pick up my stuff and sneak peeks at my body. Excellent.

"Oh, sorry boys, I can be really clumsy."

"No, no, no. Every girl needs help sometimes miss. All of us are heros too, so we can help."

"Ok, then could you please escort me home? I think someone might be following me."

With a little too much eagerness, they huddled around me and took me home. I spent that time confirming all of my research and was astounded at how easy they were to predict. Once we got to the bogus address that I had given them, I gave each of them a kiss on the cheek and left.

The next day, I found one of them walking to school (at the time before he met up with his friends) and talked to him. I told him that he was my favorite of the bunch and that he should come on a date with me that night. Later that evening, I went on a fake date with him and got all the details of his other friends that I needed.

They were apparently an arrogant bunch and not surprisingly, there was animosity towards one another already about me. With that information, I then started the other part of my revenge. I hand wrote love letters to each of them from me, and talked bad about each one of the other guys. I then asked if they could all meet me the next day at the same place.

I watched them walk home that night and they were already arguing. It was glorious. They were angry at the hurtful jabs that I had taken at each of them in their letters and they even fought for a bit. This was going perfectly.

The next day, I met them in person with a picture of my son in my hands. I looked sad and dejected and asked who he was. You could see their faces get somewhat sad but then they remarked that my son was some idiot that they took care of. Apparently they believed that he had not deserved to live given that he was a son of a villain. I felt my rage well up inside, but I contained it.

"Ok. But how did you kill him? Whoever tells me first might get a do over with me."

I said that while using the nicest voice I could and while pushing up my chest. Finally, one spilled the beans and the others corroborated the story.

They hated my son more than anyone. So, they tricked him into trying a new prank where he could deflect their powers while under a car and hurt them instead. From there, they borrowed one of mom's cars and ran him over 8 times. They all seemed to smile far too much about it. It was grim and horrible.

That's when I finally looked at them with my evil grin and they stood in terror. They could feel the change in my behavior.

"That's horrible, and you should not only feel bad, but realize that you have become the villains yourselves. Because of this, I have already alerted the authorities and uploaded this confession to your school's social media page. Everyone will know what you have done, and you cannot run from it. May these scars burn in your mind forever as you become cursed to never to be heroes again!" I quickly turned off my disguise and they looked at me in horror.

As I heard the sirens blare in the background, I threw my signature smoke bomb and vanished. Though I never wanted to be the hero of a story, my son was worth losing every ounce of my villain dignity in doing this. I miss you buddy.

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During the Age of Madness, there was a being who controlled this Madness, the Mad King. Under the Mad King’s reign, they -the way to describe what they are is to use no pronouns- created, what the mortals call, Demons. Demons “blessed” mortals with magic. With the Demon’s magic, the mortals were able to cause so much Chaos. All they did with it was the same dozen things. The Mad King grew bored of the same Chaos and Madness that the mortals would do. So, the Mad King sealed away their own power into a book and banished the Demons, which in turn banished all magic. The Mad King buried the book so, at the time, no mortal could find it. Order came to the land and eras passed. Now, the governments of this world try to cover up evidence of magic ever existed. The Mad King now works at Bob’s Dinner. They simply go by John. Short common names are easier for mortals to remember then what their true name is. They don’t talk much, for speaking would destroy the mind of those who heard it. They were content to just flip burgers and deep fry food. The owner, Bob, is an ass. Always yelling at the other employees, firing the mortals for the smallest offenses. Bob knew better than to talk to John in that matter. For if John would say a single word, the restaurant would be shut down for months. They may have sealed their power away, but not all of it could have fit into one item. They still have enough power to drive the entire county mad for eternity.

They were content with just flipping ground beef patties covered in sodium chloride then put the patties on a wheat that was ground into fine powder, combined with chicken eggs and water molded into rounded small bread, baked at a consistent temperature until golden brown. Small Chaos refined into order. They could get used to the way mortals could control the small amount of Chaos that was around them. Though they did miss the degree that the mortals could control large amounts of Chaos. Their thoughts were interrupted by Bob screaming. They moved from the kitchen to see what all the noise was about. They saw something familiar. One of the Christianized portrayals of one of their children. The Demon, like a bull standing on two legs wrapped in flames, was tearing Bob in two. A smile crossed their face, or the mask they wore that looked like a mortal's face. Someone has found their book. A new form of entertainment has just appeared. A Warlock, a mortal who is trying to control power beyond what their tiny mind could understand. In a wave of their hand, the demon, the dinner, and the whole town ripped from reality. All that was left was a burning crater, and that would still burn for thousands of years. On the news that night, the government claimed there were multiple gas pipe explosions throughout the city, killing all in the town. That was not true. Two have survived, The Warlock and John, the burger flipper. They recognized the Warlock. She was a waitress that was fired from the dinner early that week. They couldn’t contain their excitement. For the Age of Madness had returned.