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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1813454-Ungifted
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #1813454
Damien is hunted for his unique ability to instantly kill anything he lays his eyes on.
Ungifted

He checked him for a pulse, knowing full well that there would be nothing. His own heart pounded with the knowledge that yet another innocent person fell victim to his cruel power over life.

Why did that kid wander through the woods in such a random place? Would anyone be able to find his body? Did anyone know he was there? It sounded like he was lost when he came to him. Now he was dead and no one would ever find him.

The boy was in his teens, probably around his own age. The body, just freshly dead, still glowed with life, though the expression on his face was frozen into the look of confusion it wore when they first met. He paced over the dead boy, examining his features. He remembered the faces of every person that fell victim to him, even those he only looked upon for a mere second.

He wondered if the boy had powers of his own or if he was too young to manifest any. Most people manifested some sort of unique ability by the time they were seventeen or eighteen, but others were late bloomers or had an obscure power.

“I’m sorry you came across me,” he leaned over the boy and ran his fingers over his eyelids to shut them. “I’m Damien. They’re trying to make me a weapon. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

That was why he was in the middle of this forsaken forest all alone, hiding in a hovel under a tree. From the day his powers manifested themselves he was chased. From the day his parents and his sister and the neighbors that ran to him in response to his cries of horror died, he was an ingredient that people wanted to make the next best weapon. A power that could instantly kill someone would be a highly valued commodity.

Damien stepped away from the dead boy as to get him from his thoughts, though the visage of his face was forever etched into his mind. He leaned against a tree and produced a cigarette from his trench coat. He lit it and relished the little comfort it gave as the thoughts of his power being used on purpose enveloped his mind.

They didn’t understand it. This power couldn’t be controlled. He tried so many times to keep his victims alive, but there was nothing. If he looked upon them, they would die. It was as sure as rain.

When they first came for him he attempted to rip his own eyes out, but he couldn’t. He was too weak. He didn’t want to kill anyone, but he couldn’t kill himself either. He could hear the shouts of the agents that attempted to capture him and the people on the streets that watched as random people just dropped dead as he ran by. He counted the number of people he killed. It was well over a hundred in that ten minute period alone.

That was just the day before. So much death, just so they could use him to make more death. At first he hoped they would kill him, but they only shot darts in their attempt to subdue him. It would only be a matter of time until they sent people with powers after him. They had teams that specialized in such things.

Once the cigarette was done he tossed it to the ground. The small ember landed next to a fuzzy caterpillar munching on a leaf. Damien leaned down and stroked the caterpillar gently. Bugs and plants weren’t affected by his power unless he tried, so it was nice to be with something. Once done with the caterpillar he headed around the tree to do something about the body of the boy. He froze when the boy was standing where he left him and looking at him with a smile. He wasn’t dead and he wasn’t dying from his sight. He had a power.

“Hello Damien. I’m Bryce,” the boy said.

Damien knew the name. This was the one they called the Grim Reaper. He did not age or die and was known as the best bounty hunter to ever live. Nobody was even sure how old he was and people speculated that he wasn’t even sure about his own age.

Bryce produced a small gun from under his jacket and pointed it at him. Damien turned around with an amazing display of athleticism and sprinted away, removing his coat as he did. Bryce was close behind.

There was a whoosh as a dart sailed not two inches from his ear and stuck into a nearby tree. Damien tried to think evasively but he was certain that Bryce was faster than he was and would catch up no matter what he did.

He knew he was going to be captured. He had to do something about it. Before Bryce caught him, he had to be dead, or he had to have no eyes. He didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He rounded about, tricking Bryce for just enough time to enact his plan. He looked for something hard and sharp and found a rock the size of his palm. With a roar of determination he jabbed the rock into his eye. After he felt the terrible pain he almost stopped, but the sight of Bryce before him made him continue to stab his eyes with the jagged rock. His sight was gone and the pain was so intense that he didn’t even realize that Bryce shot him with a dart before he passed out.

When he woke he was restrained and he felt no pain. People were talking around him and some cheered as he stirred. Someone was standing very close to him and seemed to address the other people.

“Thanks to this young man we now have the next super weapon. We were able to clone the radiation from his eyes, even though they were badly damaged. Now, normal people do not have cause to fear those with powers. Now, a new day has dawned.”

Damien shouted out unintelligibly at what the man said. Despite his efforts, they were able to use his eyes to make a weapon. They intended to use the weapon against people with superpowers. A new day had indeed dawned and the sun would soon shine off pools of red.

© Copyright 2011 Sean Conklin (tyranno at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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