The Protégé

Chapter 1

The burglar alarm blared as Terrence jumped out the store window and into the alleyway, ducking to avoid the glances of the people on the street. There were only methheads and stoners out on the streets at this hour, but he didn't want anyone to be able to recognized him in case someone took interest in finding him.

The bag of stolen things dangled in his left hand, clutched tight. He crept slowly away from the store before standing up straight and walking normal so as to not draw suspicion. Digging his backpack out of the dumpster he had left it in, he put the bag of stolen items in it and zipped up the top securely. Then, for extra precaution, he bumped the person closest to him and took on their form. He now looked like an old man, hunched over from years of work with grey hair and dark brown eyes, instead of his normal light brown hair and young features. He usually looked only thirteen, though he was actually sixteen.

When he was far enough away from the crime scene, he ducked into another alley, listening to the police sirens wail past him. There, he took out the bag and examined the contents.

Some non-perishable food, a couple items of clothing, and a flashlight. A good haul for the night.

Taking some of the food and stuffing it into his mouth, he wrapped up the rest and stuck it back into his backpack. Then he turned himself back into his regular self. Satisfied that all of the police cars were gone, he stood up to leave. Just as he poked his head around the wall to check if anyone had noticed his behavior, something told him to turn around.

He did so, and saw a dark figure standing in the middle of the alley. He froze in fear, wondering how he possible could have missed this person.

"H-hello?" He asked, then cursed himself. A murderer in an alleyway wasn't going to answer back. He illusioned a ball of fire, but it couldn't pierce the darkness.

The figure began to approach him slowly, moving fluidly and with grace. Terrence turned to run, but found he couldn't move. Not that he was too afraid to, but that he literally was unable to move even a finger. The figure drew nearer.

Terrence could feel his heart beating out of his chest and a trickle of sweat dripping down the nape of his neck. He was terrified, no person standing in an alley in the middle of the night had good intentions.

A hand reached out and gripped his shoulder, fingers digging into his thinly clothed skin.

"You are magnificent." A smooth, silky voice said, "A pyromancer, hmm? Something I could use."

Terrence opened his mouth to protest, he wasn't able to control fire, just illusion it, but his tongue was as frozen as the rest of him. The person removed their hand and snapped their fingers.

"Sleep."

Terrence felt his eyes drooping and the need for sleep washed over him. Within two minutes, he was dead to the world.

*****

He woke bound to a chair with a crick in his neck. Rolling his head to the side, he looked at his surroundings, trying to gauge where he was.

Through the dim light piercing the broken windows high up on the metal sheeting, he managed to figure out that he was in some kind of warehouse. Terrence wondered what he was doing here. Was the person going to kill him here and dump his body? Was this because he was a mutant? A hate crime? A rat scurried next to his foot and he flinched back. A pigeon cooed in the rafters and he heard footsteps from behind him.

"What is your name?" A voice, the same one as before, demanded.

"T-terrence." He managed to stutter out, the letters keeping beat with his heart.

"Full name." The voice took on an irritated tone.

"Terrence Snick." He replied, still shaking.

"Alright, Terrence, I'm going to do you a favor tonight. Something that will change your life for the better."

A shudder ran down Terrence's spine. What kind of psycho was this?

"You know the power you have? The power to control fire." The voice continued, "I need that power, and I'm going to take it from you."

Terrence tilted his head in confusion, "I'm not-"

"Don't speak. It'll be painful, but in the end it'll be worth it. Your world doesn't yet understand these powers, and so your life will be better without them."

The footsteps came closer and some contraption was placed around his head. Terrence began to struggle. What did this person mean? He needed his powers, could they really take them away? He couldn't let that happen.

"I'm not, I'm not-"

"Hush, it'll only take a second." He could hear a clattering and the sound of machinery starting up over in the corner. If the person wanted fire power, maybe if he learned that wasn't Terrence's power he would let him go.

"But I'm not a pyromancer!"

The person paused what they were doing, dropping something metal with a clang, "What?"

"I'm not a pyromancer, I can only illusion fire. I'm an illusionist."

With a snap, the bonds fell from his chair and the contraption on his head was gone.

"Well, then. You're free to go."

Terrence wanted to run away as fast as possible, but his curiosity got the best of him, "Wait. Could you- could you really take away mutant's powers?"

The figure turned to face him and he got his first good look at the man. His raven black hair was long and tied up. He was wearing a black suit with a forest green dress shirt that matched his piercing eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

"Can you? And take them on yourself?"

"Yes. Why?"

Terrence took a shaky breath. This could be his chance to pay back all of the people who had cast him out and hurt him for simply being who he was. To destroy the people who wanted all mutants dead. "I want in."

"What?" Confusion entered the man's eyes, then he regained his composure, "Of course not. I don't work with mortals."

Terrence didn't know what he meant by mortals, but he pressed on, "I need more power, I can't survive as I am. Let me in, I can help you!"

The man sneered, "I don't need your help. What could you possibly do?"

Terrence cast around in his mind for an argument, "Let me prove it to you. Give me three days and I'll show you that I can be helpful."

The man rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine, you have three days. But don't think that whatever you show me will necessarily mean I let you in."

Terrence nodded and grinned before dashing out of the warehouse and into the street. Dawn had just broken and he glanced back at the warehouse framed by the pink and gold horizon. Finally, something greater for him to do.