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Story [Mythic] Thunder: Origins (Mature Content)

M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"You had to be brave, little one..."

Whitmore University, Citadel City, NY (1:13 pm)

Professor Nicholas Wilde stood before a group of fertile young minds in his psychology class. Some eagerly soaked up every word whilst others stared blankly ahead, eagerly awaiting to leave the lecture hall. Professor Wilde was a tall, lean man with dark skin, a clean shaven head and glasses straddling the bridge of his nose.

"What is love?" Nicholas asked the class, leaning against his desk, arms crossed.

"Recognizing the completion of yourself through a shared bond with another," answered an African-American male from the front row as he fidgeted with a pen.

"That sounds great, right? But what about love for our parents versus love for our partners or offspring?"

The young man thought about it, but had to response for the professor.

"Chemically they're no different. So do our parents complete us, or our partners, or our offspring?" Nicholas continued, addressing the entire room. "So, what is the nature of love?"

"What is the meaning of this conversation, professor?" A Caucasian man asked from the back row, left side. "Most of us don't have kids, and we change partners like we change underwear," he said, smiling with amusement. Laughter erupted from the class and Nicholas grinned with them.

"Aright, alright. My wife gave birth to a baby boy last week, so I've had this subject on the brain and it helped me realize my definition of love. To care about another person more than you care about yourself."

"Most of these guys care more about getting laid than they care about themselves, professor," a young woman said from the front row, getting even more of a response from the crowd. Nicholas shook his head, feeling a bit awkward and put off by the direction the conversation had taken.

"Okay, and with that - it's back to the regularly scheduled curriculum," Nicholas announced loudly, pushing off the edge of his desk as the class settled again.

"You had to be strong..."

Whitmore University, Citadel City, NY (4:27 pm)

Rain pounded the Whitmore campus, pattering against the roof of the lecture hall as Nicholas worked late at his desk. He had hoped that by getting ahead of his work, he could spend more time with his wife and newborn throughout the coming months. As he graded a stack of psyche papers, he gave a quick glance of his watch. As he noted the time was nearing 4:30 pm, a loud crack of thunder peeled across the skies above Citadel City. Returning his focus to the student essays, he noticed a dark silhouette standing in the doorway of the lecture hall. He stood up, removing his glasses as he examined the figure with perplexed concern.

The man carried several weapons including two swords and a large firearm across his back. He was clad in strange, black and yellow combat armor with a white mask that would give anyone pause for concern. Both men held an agonizing silence that seemed to stretch itself over the dull thumping of Nicholas's heartbeat. He mustered up his courage and composure, trying to act normal despite the bizarre circumstances.

"Can I hep you, sir?" He asked nervously.

The man remained silent, reached over his shoulder to calmly take gun in hand.

"If it's about what I saw, I swear to god, I won't say anything. I have a little baby boy now, and nothing means more to me."

The armored stranger readied his weapon at shoulder height and took aim through the scope.

Nicholas drew a deep, anxious breath. His only thoughts were of his family, and how much he wanted to be with them in this moment.

"Please man. You don't have to do this," he pleaded one last time.

The man blinked once, releasing a breath and gently squeezed the trigger as another crack of thunder peeled across the Citadel sky...

"Because they took everything from you."



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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"The world would be a cold, violent place through your eyes..."

Mikayla Wilde's Apartment, Citadel City, NY

Nicky observed his mother from his bedroom doorway, one eye peeking down the hallway. The apartment door swung open and her boyfriend Darren entered, slamming the door carelessly behind himself. He always smelled like alcohol and stale cigarette smoke. Nicky's eyes widened with anxiety and fear as the man approached his mother.

"This place is always a fuckin' mess," he growled, glancing around the modest 3rd story unit. It was far from dirty, but Darren must have been in one of his famous moods that evening.

"It was Nicky's first day of school, Darren. Can't you at least try to be a father for once?" Mikayla asked him, half regretting it as she finished the question. Darren leered at the back of her head as she stood at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes.

"The fuck did you just say, bitch?" He made his way toward her as Nicky watched helplessly.

"Come here!" he shouted, grabbing her by the hair with his left hand, jerking her neck back.

"What the fuck did you say to me?" he growled at a low guttural volume, taking her chin in his right hand, squeezing it so as to assert his dominance over her.

"What did you do all day? Huh? Sit around drivin' that shit up your nose? Huh? MY SHIT!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she anticipated his wrath. Her five year old son looking on as he threw her head into the kitchen cupboards with a violent thrust of his right hand. She she stumbled forward, away from the kitchen sink, he threw a subdued right hand, connecting with her left cheek. Just enough to rattle her and send her to the floor, but not enough to cause serious damage. Darren hated the questions that came with trips to the hospital.

He made his way back to the door looking to make a hasty escape before things escalated any further.

"When I get back this place better be spotless, or I'll really give you somethin' to cry about."

As she cowered from his threats, she noticed Nicky peeking out of the doorway.

"Oh no, Nicky. It's okay baby," she cried out, crawling toward him. He ran back into his room, tears dripping from his chin as he crawled as far under his bed as he could. Mikayla followed him in, leaning against the edge of his bed, knowing he wouldn't come out until he was good and ready.

"Daddy just had a long day. If he didn't love us so much, he wouldn't get so angry," she tried to reassure him. She had been broken by this violent, toxic man and the poison he had introduced her to.

"A place where only the strongest survive..."
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"A lonely place..."

Mikayla Wilde's Apartment Building, Citadel City, NY

Nicky had just arrived home from the school bus on a chilly autumn afternoon. As he came upon his mother's apartment building he passed an ambulance outside. He nervously made his way through the apartment building, dreading the thought of what Darren had done to his mother this time. He was ten years old now, growing up so fast. As he made his way up the flight of stairs to the third floor, paramedics passed him a fevered rush. They carried a stretcher down the stairs and laying lifelessly across it was Mikayla Wilde. She had overdosed on cocaine and they were barely able to save her life.

As Nicky watched his mother pass him by, pale, sweaty, motionless, he wondered for a moment if she was even alive at all. Before he could process any of it, he heard Darren's venomous voice calling out to him.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Nicky. Mommy's just takin' a little nap. Daddy will be home real soon," he said as policemen guided him passed Nicky, wrists placed behind his back in cuffs.

A tall Italian-American man in a leather coat and jeans approached him , kneeling down to his height and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Nicky. My name is Anthony Romano. I'm a Detective with the CCPD," he said compassionately. He took a deep breath, swelling with sympathy for the boy. "Your mom and dad have to go away for awhile - just a little while. In the meantime, Julia here is going to take you on a nice little vacation. How does that sound, Nicky?"

Nicky observed the woman as she approached. She seemed so gentle and nice, but he knew she was just pretending. Nicky knew when adults were being fake. He was confused. He didn't want to go on any vacation with strangers. he wanted to go with his mother. To stay with her.

"I want to go with Mommy," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact, hoping they would just go away, leave him alone.

Detective Romano lowered his head, physically wincing with emotional pain. He had been through the foster system as a child so his heart bled for the kid. Having worked his father's case he felt an even greater responsibility for Nicky.

"I know, buddy. I know."

Julia moved in, taking over to do her job. "Hello, Nicky. I'm Julia. Your mommy wanted me to take care of you whilst she gets some rest. She's been working so hard to take care of you that she gets a little tired now and again," she explained in a soft, benevolent tone of voice, smiling the entire time.

"You would be with other kids there. We play games, and watch movies together. It's just like camp, only you won't have to leave the city. Does that sound okay, Nicky?"

"A world where boys have to become men far too soon..."

M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"You'll slip..."

Foxborough Juvenile Detention Center, Citadel City, NY

"Come on, Nicky! Go for the eyes!"

A crowd of male teens huddled tightly in a circular formation in the yard of Foxborough Juvenile Detention Center. They howled, screamed and heckled like a pack of feral dogs as they watched a jailhouse bout unfold. Nicky Wilde had started another fight he couldn't finish. This time it was with the biggest, oldest, whitest kid on his block, Daniel Skinner. A towering, brick shit house of a boy with hands the size of tennis rackets.

"Don't make me do it, Nicky," Daniel reasoned with him sternly.

"You gonna fight or flap your lips like a pussy?" Nicky taunted him bitterly, garnering some laughs from the crowd.

"Fuck it. Shuttin' you up is worth finishing my bit in the Meta Ward," Daniel said with resolve and malice. He balled his tennis racket into a tight fist.

"Go ahead, freak. Give me your best sh-"


"You'll fall..."

"It's going to be a hard no," foster parent Jack Dawson said with firm resolve.

"Please," Julia begged. "You're already familiar with him."

"He's been in and out of Foxborough since he was ten! Been in and out of four different homes before he showed up here. I just can't with this kid."

"Nicky has been dealt a particularly rotten hand."

"What does that even mean? The kid is a fuckin' anti-Christ, Julia. You and I both know it. He's violent, belligerent, and in all likelihood he's a sociopath."

"He's a traumatized child from a broken home, Jack."

"He's a fuckin' problem, Julia. And it's going to have to be someone else's. I'm sorry."

"You'll be left behind..."
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"They'll count you out..."

Whitmore High Football Field, Citadel City, NY

Jasmine Sinclair sat in the bleachers of the Whitmore High football field. She watched the Whitmore Wildcats hold a regularly scheduled practice as she worked on her laptop. She was a journalist for the school paper doing a story about the team and this years roster. She chewed on a pen as she closely examined each player through the lenses of her glasses. She took down notes about each starting player. Their energy, their presence on the field and their demonstrated skills and strengths.

Nicky Wide emerged beside her, standing in the isle, hands stuffed in his coat pockets. He glanced at the ground, idly kicking at some old bubble gum stuck to the floor of the bleachers. "That new running back looks a little weak," he said, trying to seem as though he was there for the team, and not her.

"At least he shows up for practice," Jasmine noted with a snappy wit, still observing the players. "The old one was always getting arrested," she said, looking over at him. "What was it this time, Nicky? A year for armed robbery?"

Nicky sighed, casting his uncomfortable gaze up to the cloudy sky. "It was some bullshit they-" she cut him off at the knees. She had heard this line a dozen times before.

"Yeah, it's always some bullshit, Nicky. It's never your fault. It's always the teachers, the cops, the foster system. When are you going to take some responsibility and grow up?"

Nicky knew she was right and it killed him to hear her so upset with him. "I'm sorry, Jasmine," he mumbled sincerely.

"You just don't get it, Nicky. I'm not the one you need to apologize to. You're becoming a monster. The bad guy," she said with stern compassion. She cared about Nicky, but he did not make it easy.

Nicky remained silent. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't upset her even more. It was hard for even him to understand. Something inside of him was always angry, wanting to lash out. Trouble seemed to follow him around.

"You better go before they catch you on school property. Unless you want to go straight back to Foxborough?"

"I just wanted to see you, Jasmine."

She slammed her laptop shut, picking up her bag. "I'm busy, Nicky. I've got work to do." She made her way up the bleachers, disappearing into one of the isles.

"They'll write you off..."
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"But you're not alone, little one..."

North Shore Trailer Park, Citadel City Outskirts, NY

Nicky stood outside a rundown, shanty trailer belonging to Darren, and where his mother now resided. He sighed, wishing for a moment that he had the power to change her circumstance and get her away form the man he was raised to call a father.

The flimsy door swung open with ease, having been boot in several times in the past. Nicky shook his head, wondering if it had been by the cops, drug dealers, or both. As he closed the door behind himself, he heard his mother groaning.

She was laying on the bed in the rear of the trailer, hardly conscious and caught in the throws of a fresh high. He could smell the sour odor of crack cocaine in the stale, musty air as he made his way toward her.

"You gotta get away from this shit, Mom," he said softly, kneeling by her side, taking her hand in his.

"Nicky?" she asked, still unaware of what was going on.

"Yeah, Mom. It's Nicky," he answered her, kissing the back of her hand.

"Good. Darren is in trouble again, baby. We might need some money..." She paused, so as to imply that he could commit another robbery to bail them out. Nicky sighed, lower his head resting his forehead against her hand.

"Jesus, Mom. Why do you stay with him?" he asked, gripped with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

"Because he's all we have. After your father died, I just didn't know how to live without a man in our lives," she answered, fighting tooth and nail to stop herself from passing out.

Nicky raised his head quickly. 'What did you just say?"

"Huh? Darren is in trouble again, Nicky-"

"No, Ma. You said when my father died! What's that supposed to mean?" He let her hand go, withdrawing from her slightly.

"Oh, Nicky, you weren't supposed to know about that."

"Know about what, Mom?!"

"I miss your father so much, Nicky. He was a good man. A real... real good..." She fell asleep mid-sentence, leaving him hanging, tears welling in his eyes. He stood up, storming out of the tiny trailer in an emotional rush.

"You are not alone..."
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"Know that I see you..."

Olympia Tower, Citadel City, NY

Rain beat down on the roof of the car as Nicky and Julia sat inside, preparing to place Nicky in another foster home.

"Are you okay, Nicky?" Julia asked, nervous for him. She had placed him in five different homes with no luck yet, and she sincerely wanted him to succeed.

"I'm fine, Julia. Can we just get this over with?" Nicky reassured her poorly, gazing blankly out the window at the ritzy building they were parked in front of. He already knew this was going to be a total failure. A disenfranchised black kid wouldn't last a week in this end of town, he thought.

"You just seem a little more stressed than usual - and this one is different. He reached out to us."

Nicky finally looked at her. "What does that mean?"

"It means he contacted us, and picked you," she answered, grinning with excited anticipation.

"That's not creepy at all," Nicky mumbled, looking up the length of Olympia Tower as rain bombarded the window.

"It's not creepy, it could be the break you've been waiting for your whole life. He's taken in lots of kids and we've never once had a problem," she explained, preparing all of her documentation.

"Yeah, well, he hasn't met me yet," Nicky mumbled.

"Please give this an honest try, Nicky. We're running out of options."


Nicky sat in the foyer, impatiently waiting. He fidgeted anxiously, his leg jumping up and down, up and down. He thought the place was too fancy, too clean. Everything looked so expensive and exotic. He had convinced himself this was the worst placement Julia had come with yet. There was no way he could last in a place like this. For a moment he thought about getting up and bolting. Just running, letting Julia clean up the mess and moving on to the next placement. Before he could act on that thought, Julia emerged from the elevator with a big smile on her face, flashing a thumbs up.

She spoke to him quickly in a low yet excited tone of voice. "It's looking good, just... don't look so depressing," she ordered him, smiling from ear to ear before scurrying out into the rain.

"You must be Nicky Wilde." A deep, authoritative voice echoed through the foyer. Nicky looked back toward the elevator as a tall man with tanned skin and blonde hair made his way across the marble floor holding a decorative golden cane. The man wore strange yet fancy cloths like a suit, only older. Nicky thought it was strange but the man had such a commanding presence that he didn't think about it too much.

Nicky stood up, shifting awkwardly in place. 'Yeah, that's me," he said firmly, positive that he was doing something wrong already.

The man extended a thick, masculine, yet well groomed hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Nicky."

Nicky hesitantly grasped his palm and they exchanged a firm handshake. Nicky felt respected by an adult male for the first time in a long time.

"You can call me Mr. Jupiter," the man said with a smile and keen, warm eyes.

"Know that I've been with you all along..."
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User
The elevator ride was a long one, and Nicky waited uncomfortably, shifting his stance over and over. Mr. Jupiter stood next to him, shooting the odd glace over toward him.

"Don't be nervous," Mr. Jupiter said softly. "I've instructed most of the other kids to give you some space, but regardless of what you might see or hear up there, I want you to keep an open mind."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Nicky asked gravely. That made him nervous if he wasn't already.

Mr. Jupiter flashed a sly grin as the elevator doors slid open, revealing the lavish penthouse suite Mr. Jupiter and the kids called home. Everything looked like it was purchased from a European museum or excavated straight from long lost Greek and Roman cities. Nicky didn't even know what anything was, but he knew it was all expensive and exotic.

Nicky followed Mr. Jupiter as he lead the way into the massive penthouse. "This is all part of the common area. Many of the children spend most of their time here," he explained as Nicky gazed around in awe, his visual sensors overloaded by the extravagance of every tiny detail of every little object. As they walked along, a void of pale blue energy materialized directly behind Nicky and a young man with blonde hair gently plopped out of it, snagging Nicky's wallet from his back pocket before vanishing back into the void just as quickly as he had appeared. Feeling the lift, he spun around sharply to find nothing. As he did, the young man materialized behind him, returning the wallet to the back pocket of his baggy jeans. Nicky spun around again, eyes squinting with confused suspicion.

"Hermes!" Mr. Jupiter groaned, gently scolding the young man for his trickery.

"What the hell is going on?" Nicky asked nervously, still spinning back and forth, hoping to catch something behind him.

"I only have one rule that applies to all of the children. Respect each other and my home. Mistakes aren't punishable by banishment in this family, Nicky. Are you paying attention?"

Nicky stopped checking his rear for long enough to look Mr. Jupiter in the eyes. "Yes, I'm paying attention."

"Good. The rules beyond that depend on the individual. I can't expect you to not get angry sometimes. What I can expect you to do, is work on controlling it. Not for me, but for you. Understand?"

Nicky nodded like a deer in headlights. He was still trying to figure out what happened moments ago, and what "Hermes" meant.

"Then we'll discuss your personal rules after you've settled in," Mr. Jupiter said, leading him to the main living space where another young man stood against a fireplace in a fancy suit. He had kempt black hair and a clean shaven, hansom face.

"So this is the great Nicky Wilde?" He asked, holding a glass of wine in his left hand, looking Nicky over from head to toe. Nicky felt challenged by the boy, threatened even. He immediately tensed up, feeling judged and unwelcome.

"This is Nathan, my star pupil," Mr. Jupiter said, introducing the boys as best he could given the tension already mounting.

"Welcome to Olympia Tower, Nicky. It's not often we take in new kids. You'll forgive me if it takes a while to warm up to you," Nathan said with an almost passive aggressive bitterness.

"Nathan struggles with change," Mr. Jupiter explained. "He's hesitant to welcome strangers into our family, but he always comes around in the end."

Nicky began to panic. It was all a bit too much, too soon. He felt like a fish out of water with a hook in its mouth and a hand up its gills.

He took a few steps back. "I need some air," he blurted out, heading directly for the elevator.

As he made a hasty exit he heard Nathan speak at a low volume. "I don't like it. He's not like us."

Nicky stopped dead in his tracks, a wave of anger washing over him. He turned around, and came in hot back toward them. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

"Nicky-" Mr. Jupiter tried to stop him, but the fuse had already been lit.

"What, I'm not rich enough, white enough, sheltered enough?" His lip quivered as tears formed in his baby brown eyes. "Fuck you," he shouted with malice.

He made his way toward the elevator in a fit of rage, pushing on one of the marble statues to no avail. It was too heavy for him to knock over, so he turned his sights on a vase, swiping it off the stand it sat on. As it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces, Hermes materialized.

"Want me to bring him back?" Hermes asked.

"No. He has to face what comes next alone," Mr. Jupiter explained with grave compassion.
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"Sometimes we have to endure the horror of hardship..."

North Shore Trailer Park, Citadel City Outskirts, NY

Nicky opened the door to Darren's trailer. He was soaked to the bone from the torrential rain outside. The interior reeked of crack cocaine, turning Nicky's stomach as he furrowed his brow, examining a shirtless, sweaty, distraught Darren.

"What are you doing, Dad?" Nicky asked softly with a familiar disappointment.

"Where the fuck have you been, boy?" Darren groaned, his voice strangled by grief. Nicky realized that some of that sweat was actually tears, and he began to panic. He moved quickly toward the back room as Darren shouted incoherently. "Where were you, boy?"

Nicky pulled the bedroom curtain back to find his mother laying still on the bed. Her skin was cold and pale, eyes resting peacefully. A used syringe still hung from a vein in her right arm as she lay there, stiff and lifeless.

The center of Nicky's world collapsed and imploded around him in a matter of moments. He dropped to his knees before the bed she lay in, tears flowing down his youthful cheeks. He tried to stifle his grief but it overwhelmed him, sputtering out in the form of powerful sniffles. Nicky couldn't fight this situation, so his flight response took over. He got to his feet, heading back toward the door.

As he passed Darren, he jumped up from the sofa, cutting Nicky off at the door.

"Hey, wait a minute, Nicky," Darren said, placing his hands on Nicky's shoulders. He tried to smile through the pain and crack high. Somewhere in his twisted, pathetic mind, he loved Mikayla in his own broken way. "I need you right now, son."

Nicky slapped his hands away. "You're not my fuckin' father," he growled viciously, tears still streaming down his cheeks. The anger was gathering inside of him by the second. This putrid excuse for a man had destroyed his life, and taken the life of his mother. All the years of abuse and belittlement began to weigh heavily on Nicky's anger, fueling it like gasoline. His breathing became heavier as Darren remained in his face, spewing forth words Nicky could no longer hear or process through his agony and rage.

"Shut up," he mumbled, just wishing the man would step aside and let him pass.

"Shut. Up. Darren," he said, louder this time. As he did he was jolted back by Darren's hands on his shoulders.

"You won't speak to me like that you little prick," Darren uttered arrogantly. Before he could gather another thought, the frying pan was in Nicky's hand, and colliding with the left side of Darren's head. Blood poured down his left cheek as he struggled to figure out what exactly had just happened. His facial expression scrunched up in a sour rage as he began to piece it together. Before he could speak, or even act, another shot from the cast iron pan knocked him unconscious.

Blood poured profusely from the wound as Nicky dropped the pan, bolting out the door into the pouring rain.

"In order to build the best of character..."

Nicky ran away from the City, rather than toward it. Tears spilled down his cheeks, mixing with drops of rain that relentlessly battered the countryside. When he was alone he was able to cry, to let it all out. No one was around to judge him, to consider him weak for it.

When he finally ran out of energy, he found himself in a large field of farmland on the outer reaches of Citadel City. He wasn't even sure where he was anymore, and strangely he didn't care. He placed his hands on his knees, soaking wet, exhausted, and more angry than he could ever recall being before. In the span of only moments he considered the nature of life, the nature of religion and the concept of a God who would care so little about his creation, that he could allow so much suffering and pain to win the day over and over again. He was filled with grief, confusion and anger the likes of which he had never felt before. He didn't know whether to shout, keep crying, or pretend to be okay. So he harnessed every bit of emotion within his being, and focused it all into one single scream aimed at the cloudy, rainy sky.

As he poured the weight of his soul out, above him in the distance, long fingers of electricity gathered into a single point in the clouds. From that point, a massive bolt of lightning shot forth from the sky, hitting Nicky directly in the chest. it knocked him back twelve feet or more, clean off of his feet. As he hit the ground sinking into several inches of rain water, he slid for a few more feet before grinding to a stop. Smoke and steam barreled from his lifeless body as it lay motionless; Dead...
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

"Sometimes we have to lay ourselves to rest..."

Citadel Coroner's Office, Citadel City , NY

Anthony Romano paced back and forth in the Coroner's personal office, awaiting the results of Nicky's autopsy. "I need to know what happened to him, Jerry. I want to know why this entire family turned up dead," Detective Romano said anxiously.

"Just keep your panties on, Anthony - Jesus. Who is this kid to you, anyway?" Jerry Rafferty asked him, wondering why the detective was so invested in what seemed like a random street thug.

"I worked his father's murder in the nineties. Kid couldn't get dealt a break if you stacked the fuckin' deck," Anthony explained, a swell of grief threatening to expose just how invested he really was. "Look, I just need to know if it was really a freak accident, or if someone killed him and dumped him out there."

Jerry dropped his pen, taking his glasses off. "Jesus christ. You need some vacation time."

"Just get me the results, Jerry."

"No, I'm serious. You're one morbid son of a bitch, Anthony."


"In order to be reborn!"

Nicky's pale, naked body lay on a metal examination table covered by a thin white sheet. The medical examiner whistled a pleasant tune as he geared up with rubber gloves, snapping the wrists as he found the perfect fit for each. As he took scalpel in hand preparing to open Nicky up, thin fingers a pale blue electricity began to crawl from his arms to the center of his chest, exploding in a wave of horizontal energy that threw the examiner across the room.

Nicky's eyes shot wide open and he gasped desperately for air, unable to fill his stiff lungs. He thrashed and squirmed, falling off the table and dragging the white sheet behind him. He hit the cold, hard floor, scrambling backward away from the table, still gasping deeply, clutching at his chest as his gaze darted around the room. He was in total panic. His body felt cold, dry, weak and jittery. He vibrated from head to toe. It felt as though he weren't even in his own body anymore.

As his lungs opened up and filled with air repeatedly, he was able to bring himself to a state of relative calm. His gaze shot around nervously, body still shaking violently. He lifted his body, sliding up the wall filled with cold lockers, holding the sheet across his crotch. As he glanced around his surroundings he noticed the medical examiner on the floor, shaking his head back and forth in a state of equal or greater panic and confusion.

"Where am I?" Nicky asked in total disarray, barely able to speak properly.

As a devout Christian man, the medical examiner was unable to muster even a single word. He instead pointed at the wall behind Nicky. Turning to face it, he saw rows upon rows of cold lockers meant for dead bodies. He looked back at the examiner sharply, who had lost the majority of color from his face.

Nicky tried to steady his breathing, wrapping the sheet around his waist tighter. He walked over to the medical examiner, who seemed to fear his approach.

"I'm going to need that coat," Nicky said gravely.


Detective Romano leaned against a filing cabinet next to Jerry's desk, nursing a coffee.

"I mean you said it yourself, the farmer saw the bolt of lightening and found the kid in the field," Jerry explained, head buried in his paperwork. He continued speaking as Anthony become lost in a deep train of thought. There were too many coincidences surrounding this case. Too many deaths in the same day. As he tried to tune Jerry's ramblings out, his eyes widened in disbelief, jaw dropping as he saw Nicky wearing a white lab coat, working his way toward the door, nodding awkwardly at employees who looked at him in total shock and awe.

Anthony slowly placed the coffee on the desk, walking across Jerry's small office to the window, eyes following Nicky from right to left before he exited the building.

"I mean it's not uncommon for this type of thing to happen this time of year," Jerry had been saying as Detective Romano spun around.


"What!?" Jerry shouted, looking up from his desk. Anthony's expression was that of total perplexity and shock. He shot his glance sightly to the left, thinking hard before he committed to the words verbally.

"My body just walked out the front door!"

Jerry thought about it for a fleeting moment. "WHAT?"
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M.J. Saulnier

Retired User

Downtown, Citadel City , NY

Nicky made his way along a crowded city street, clutching the white lab coat in order to keep it held shut. Pedestrians shot him odd glances as he passed by, but he didn't seem to notice. His attention was being pulled in a thousand different directions as his senses scrambled to adjust to his surroundings. Each time his bare feet made contact with the cold, wet concrete, he could feel the vibrations from passing vehicles gently rumbling through flesh and bone. As the cool, moist air brushed against his skin, it seemed as though he could feel every molecule dancing across his flesh. His gaze roamed up to the power lines as he could feel the continuous current surging through each one of them. For a moment, he felt as though he was high, but he didn't feel intoxicated, his mind felt clear for the first time in his life. He smiled wide. He should have felt scared, upset, even, but he didn't. He felt more alive than he had ever felt before.

What had happened to him? How did he end up in the coroner's office laying naked on a metal slab? His mind began to race, recalling his mother, Darren, and the bolt of lightning before it all went black.

As he made his way down the unfamiliar street, he began to formulate a plan. He had to get to a familiar portion of the city and contact Julia. She was the only stable factor in his life. The only person he could always count on to be in his corner. She would know what to do. She could help. As he once again focused his gaze on the humming power lines above him, he heard a familiar voice.


Startled, he turned quickly to match the troubled, terrified gaze of Detective Romano. He had never seen Anthony is such a state of distress and horrified confusion.

"Get in the car, Nicky," Romano ordered him with a sense of urgency.

Nicky immediately fell back into his anxiety. "I didn't do anything, Anthony," he pleaded nervously. His natural instinct was guilt.

"It's okay. You're not in trouble. Alright? I just need you get in the fucking car, Nicky," Romano commanded him frantically. "Right now!"

Nicky swallowed a dry lump in his throat, fidgeting at his lab coat. Weighing out his options and concluding that he really hadn't done anything wrong, he reluctantly scurried into the black four door sedan.
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