Uncontrollable

Chapter One - Edited

Mac Jenkins stood over the cowering man with his knife raised, the point ready to be plunged into his victim's heart. A lamp from above them shown light down onto the pair, the light bouncing off the dagger.

"What, no last words?" he whispered sadistically, a brutal, fiendish smile cracking his stony facade.

"P-Please don't kill me," the man under him begged with a quivering lip.

"And why would I listen to you?" Mac asked, stooping closer to his victim.

"I have a family!" the man exclaimed, his voice cracking. "They need me!"

"And I care, why?"

"Please just be reasonable," the man whispered. His eyes widened, widened and he continued begging. I smiled to myself. He was pathetic—not even an attempt at a saving gesture. Just sniveling and begging. It almost made me not want to help him.

Almost.

"Drop the knife," I commanded, making myself visible again. The man turned around, and a cold breeze blew through the alleyway.

"What makes you think you'll have any sort of power over me?" Mac asked arrogantly, but I didn't fall for the veneer. I could still see the broiling fear in those dilated eyes.

"I don't think you'll listen to me. I know you will," I answered, leaning against the brick wall. Magic pulsed through my relaxed body, just waiting to be used.

"You're a teenage boy with no defenses, and I am a grown man with a knife. If I were you, I'd run," Mac said, raising his knife to throw it.

"I wouldn't do that," I warned, posing for a fight.

Not taking my warning, he threw the knife directly at me. It was a beautiful and perfectly aimed throw, that would have hit me directly in the heart had I been normal. But I wasn't.

About halfway through the knife's path, it froze, turned, and then went hurtling right back at Mac.

With the sickening sound of a blade hitting flesh, the knife pierced into Mac's heart ending his life forever.

"I warned you," I whispered as I walked over to retrieve his knife.

"Who are you? Are you going to hurt me?" The other man's voice was frantic, and bounced off the walls of the alleyway.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said, pulling the knife out of the now lifeless body of Mac Jenkins. "What's your name?"

"How'd you pull off that little trick with the knife?" the man asked, gaining some of his courage back.

"That's my little secret," I answered, flipping the knife in the air and catching it.

"Leave me alone," the man exclaimed. "I'll call the cops on you!"

"Oh, the cops! So scary," I mocked.

"Just tell me who you are, and why that man was after you," I ordered. He knit his eyebrows, opened his mouth, and then closed it.

"Is there a problem?" I questioned in an assertive tone. The only way to get people like this to talk was to come across as witty, confident, and forceful.

"My name is Grey, and I have no idea why Mac was after me," he answered. I listened to his words, and then chose mine carefully.

"You know his name. How?"

"Doesn't everyone know his name?" Grey asked with a confused tone. After a moment of silence, a triumphant smile formed on Grey's face. "You didn't know who he was, did you?"