2.2

628 75 68



Cadell closed his eyes for what felt like ten seconds. Had all of them missed? He opened his eyes.

Great. Cadell thought. Surprisingly, he wasn't surprised. All of the balls appeared to have slowed down in mid-air. Three of them were inches from his face, two of them were inches from his chest, and one of them was inches from his, well, balls. The voice in his head was now whispering in a repetitive chant, and although Cadell felt it was implying something malicious, he agreed with the words.

Now's your chance, boy.

Narrowly missing the balls, Cadell did an awkward star jump to the side whilst catching one of them in his hand. There was a five-second silence of awe. Even Mr Griffin's eyes looked like they would pop out of their sockets. Cadell gave a giggle, and all hell broke loose.

"Get him!"

"You got lucky!"

Cadell couldn't stop laughing. He felt like he was playing a video game on very easy. He ducked and dived and cartwheeled, at one point he dodged the balls while hand standing which he didn't even think was possible. He deflected balls simply by throwing other balls at them. 

Suddenly, he frowned. The opposing team had stopped attacking.

It took a while for him to realise... All the balls were on his side.

"Well, well, well," Cadell said. "No one seems to be saying anything now, huh. Who should we start with?"

He smiled after finding his target. "Jordan, why didn't you let me copy your maths homework?"

Before a response could be heard, he picked up a ball and hurled it as hard as he could. It bounced on the floor and rocketed upwards to slam into the poor boy's face.

"Oooooh," The class moaned sympathetically.

Hmm, I didn't know I could throw that well.

Listen to me, boy. The voice said.

While gradually taking down the opposition with perfect accuracy, Cadell found it easy to ignore the voice in his mind which painted another picture of bloodshed. He focused on the enemy which had now dwindled to two sweating victims.

Two balls whizzed towards Cadell. One of them missed completely, but the other was on a perfect trajectory to his face. There was a cheer from everyone in the sports hall when they heard a faint "clunking" sound but grins disappeared when, for a moment, the ball seemed to gravitate in front of Cadell's face. He had caught it.

The two remaining boys ran in opposite directions in a desperate attempt to pick up another ball, the squeaking sound of their trainers scraping across the floor surface. Cadell kicked up a ball next to him into a free hand and threw it as if he was skipping a stone. The ball entangled a pair of legs and one of the boys fell with a THUMP!

Cadell dropped the final ball in his hand.

It probably would have been a perfect head-shot if thrown. He might have taunted everyone with a silly dance or a pretentious bow. But he didn't do that. Instead, tears welled up in his eyes. The voice gave a chilling, low laugh.

Don't just stand there. Use it, boy

Cadell looked at a blood-red knife that rested in the palm of his other hand. "No, I won't do this. I'm not your puppet. I-I-I Please, get out of my head!" Looks of bewilderment and shock filled the room as he sprinted towards double doors. The knife crumbled into nothing before it could clatter on the floor.

The bell to signal the end of the lesson rang Ten minutes later. Mr Griffin made a long hypocritical speech about respect and when all the students had left, he anxiously fumbled with a Walkie Talkie.

"Target A shows symptoms," Mr Griffin said.






PSYCHOWhere stories live. Discover now