The Edge

Zacky:

I stared. Without blinking. I didn't feel the need to blink. Or breath. I could feel the prickling at the back of my neck, something was happening, something was going wrong. I was afraid. What if Brian was hurt? He'd better not be hurt.

I'd kill whoever was hurting him.

I was quickly proven incorrect. My suspicious, fearful feeling was not for Brian, but for myself. I was still staring, not blinking or breathing, but within moments of my instinct yelling at me to get the hell out of this place, the heavy metal door of my cage swung open, revealing two or three of the nurses who hated me.

Holding scalpels.

I would have been afraid, if not for my confidence in my ability to kill them all with a single uttered word. They advanced into the white room, one of them closing the door behind the others and turning the huge lock, making a loud clicking noise.

I smiled. I supposed I should be afraid. One of the women, the one I noticed first, was Wendy, her short, greasy dark hair hanging over her face and a look of malice in her eyes.

"Hello, Baker. We're going to give you a little operation... Some harmless incisions, you know. We don't think scum like you deserves to kill innocent people like Gale and go unpunished." she growled mock-threateningly.

Though, the fear factor was extremely low. Wendy was portly, her eyes were disproportionately small and her head disproportionately large. She wasn't a frightening woman, just a rather funny looking one, and if anything, I pitied her. If I didn't kill her now, she'd lose her job. And though I didn't want to kill anyone, sometimes it was necessary to show people what you can do or they'll never leave you alone.

I just sighed. I wasn't even bothering with sitting up. They weren't worth the effort, but I decided I would so they could see my eyes change before they died. They could believe, in their dying moment, I wasn't some mental kid who killed his 'guardian' out of pointless rage.

They didn't know what they'd just gotten into.

One of the other nurses darted forward, grabbing my arm and holding it out so Wendy could place the scalpel against my skin. I didn't fight, but they probably assumed it was because I was worn out from the drugs.

Wendy waltzed up to me, grinning like she'd never been happier in her entire life. She pressed the blade against my inner arm, but as soon as she increase the pressure, trying to split my skin, the blade shattered.

I blinked, feeling a large smile spread across my face. They were staring at me like they'd seen a ghost. I wasn't a ghost. I was far more powerful. Wendy grabbed the scalpel from the other nurse, saying, "Well, It's obvious something was wrong with the blade. I'll just try again."

With the final word, she brought the scalpel down again onto my skin, trying to tear my skin. Again, the scalpel's blade fragmented, leaving just the handle. Wendy took a step back nervously, staring from me to the handle of the blade she'd been holding.

"What... why did this... What are you?" She croaked, "I've used those knifes before.. They've never..."

I grinned again, licking my lips and getting up, shoving the blond nurse off of me. I stared Wendy, who was backing clumsily away from me.

"Stop." I growled. Her body froze on my command, but I kept walking, slowly advancing on her, "What I am? I'm nothing and everything. I'm one of the most powerful beings alive. I could kill you with a word. How dare you try to hurt me."

I sounded so evil. I didn't like it. I suddenly felt weary, extremely tired.

"Let's.. just get this over with." I mumbled, running a hand through my hair quickly, "Die."

Wendy dropped to the ground, dead. I couldn't leave the other two, so I repeated the order, their bodies slumping lifelessly. I kicked Wendy square in her face, unlocking the huge door and going back to my bed, sitting down, and starting to scream.

It was only a matter of time before the security guard outside my door broke and pulled the door open. It was only a matter of time till the police were involved. It was only a matter of time before human forensics proved that I couldn't have killed them. It was only a matter of time before doctors declared they'd died of a natural causes, because there was absolutely no explanation for three healthy women dropping dead at random.

I think they still suspected me, though. I was the killer boy, and three dead woman had been found in my room.

Unlike Gale, who's throat had been cut, their bodies didn't give away how they'd been killed or who had killed them.

Everything had gotten a lot more interesting.

~

"Zachary, please, tell us the truth, do you know how these women died?" the man asked, his pen poised over notebook paper.

He was a balding, heavy set man, a pair of glasses on his nose that seemed to be there just to make him look better... In his own opinion. He was dressed in a black suit, his tie was dull gray, just like his eyes. He was supposedly a therapist named Dr. Lollis, but his stubby nose, watery eyes and bad comb-over made me reluctant to trust a word he said.

He'd promised me I wouldn't get in trouble if I'd killed them. Ya the fuck right.

So I sat there in his special therapy chair, counting the dots on the ceiling and trying to ignore this man. He was asking me the same question over and over again. Something told me he wasn't all that great as his job. But I had to keep up my act, so I whimpered and shook my head, "N-No, sir, they just fell to the ground. I thought they were showing me some kind of game, but then I realized what happened and I screamed for the guard. I was so scared..."

Dr. Lollis gave a heavy sigh. He was getting no where, and the way he saw it, I was a very, very good actor, I didn't remember killing them, or I hadn't done it. There was almost no way I could have killed them by human evidence, they had no fatal external or internal wounds, no sign of anything fatal as far as disease. It looked like they'd just dropped dead, and my story matched up with that.

"Alright..." Dr. Lollis said, "I suppose there's no need for me to keep you anymore. Toddle on back to your room."

Sending him a subtle glare, I got up and, led by Ann, headed back to the large white room where she tucked me in and told me to get some rest. I nodded, closing my eyes. This time, however, I didn't force myself into sleep like I usually had to at night in this place. Sleep just came, and with it, a dream.

"You're growing into your abilities well."

The deep voice sounded from within my mind, though I still looked around, mapping out where I was. It was a dark alley, like usual, but there was no body by my feet like in my nightmares. I was alone, except for the voice.

I leaned back against the dingy wall, noticing I was in street clothes rather than a hospital gown. It was a nice change, I had never cared for the breeze the gown gave. Call me crazy.

But, ya, that creepy voice...

"It isn't polite to think like that. I was just asking how you're powers are coming on." The voice said.

"Uh," I mumbled to no one, "Good, I guess. I can manipulate things... If I want something to happen, it happens. It's pretty cool."

There was a deep, throaty laugh. It sent shivers down my spine, "Good, good. Does the boy know about your powers?"

I stiffened. He was talking about Brian. Who was this weird voice, and why was he asking about Brian? "Er... He... Who are you?"

Another gruff laugh proceeded my words, "I suppose you've got right to know. Again, I'm your father, Zachary. I just want to find out more about you now, help you develop those skills. I'm going to help you break out of this prison you're stuck in, though it may take a bit of time.."

I was surprised, though I'd encountered my father several times in other dreams, "I see. Well, how do I know this is real? I am dreaming after all.."

"I'll give you a list of people to kill when you get out of there. When you kill them, it will be proven to you I am really your father." The voice explained.

I was reluctant at first to trust him. Why would he want me to kill certain people for him..? I convinced myself they must be evil people, or something.

"Alright," I said, biting my lip, "But first, tell me what I am."

"You, Zachary James Baker, are a reaper."