Kurzgeschichten - ShortStorys

Phrase: For sale: Baby shoes, never worn.

The last few Months had been an absolute Nightmare for Simon Riley. For the entirety of his live he'd believed he was crazy, seeing all kinds of mythical creatures and watching them perform unnatural acts. One time, he had seen someone casually flatten a building and nobody had bat an eye. As a kid, he had realized early that he was different. Simon had tried talking to his parents, but they only grew increasingly concerned and send him off to a Therapist. There, he tried the same, with equal results except that they made him take drugs. Simon hated it, the physical sluggishness and the halt of his thoughts, everything. He'd tried not taking them, but that only ended with his parents and Therapist forcing him. Simon was so fed up with it, in his desperation he decided to lie. And he succeeded. Eventually, he got rid of the Therapist and his parents were glad Simon was „fine and perfectly normal" he wasn't though, in reality, he was far from it.

His thoughts kept spinning through his past as Simon walked the streets of New York, heading straight for the Times Square. For the first time since all this started he could move relatively freely without feeling scared of being compromised. Simon smiled to himself and teleported to a nearby rooftop to check his enchanted ring. After lingering on the rooftop for a couple of minutes, he feeled around with a strand of his Anima and was satisfied to find nothing. Simons Ring was working perfectly. He'd previously enchanted it to absorb any Anima which developed during his teleports. They still weren't perfect, at least to him. Simon smirked as he thought about the „Magic
Regulations Foundation" Mages trying to track him now. It was as good as impossible, he learned from his previous errors and had put a basic enchantment on the ring, now it would absorb any trace of Anima in a one meter radius. He looked up and took in the skyline of New York, the base of operations of the MRF and a city stock full of magic users. He wouldn't immediately stand out, which was good for him, because he was trying to meet up with a potential ally. With a small pep in his step and an unusually good mood, Simon jumped of the building and instantly reappeared in a alley down below. He strolled back into the masses and continued on his way towards the Time Square.

Simon was bewitched by the city and it's greatness. Being a country boy, he seldom visited any large city and definitely had never really seen New York outside of TV or Movies. He heard a baby crying and looked up, his gaze following the outline of a skyscraper as a familiar Anima Signature brushed his senses. He was instantly on high alert and unfolded his bubble of perception. As of now, it stretched a good three hundred meters. His blood ran cold as he registered the dozens of mages flexing their anima into corresponding Spell Patterns. Acting on instinct he swiftly opened a portal beneath one of the enemy mages huddling in the back and switched places with him. Non to soon as the poor man standing in Simons wake was immediately ripped to shreds by ice shards, poison blobs and small streams of hot burning flame. Hands shaking, he reached into a small portal of his and retrieved one of the plundered M-16. Steadying his hands, he breathed deeply and started firing. Right after the barrel ended he created another small portal, with the end destination the back of the heads of the Mages Standing around him. With an angry jerk of his fingers he pulled the trigger and the battlefield turned into a massacre. The Mages of the MRF, who until now had been pretty sure they'd killed him, died mercilessly. Frowning, he emptied the magazine and teleported the remaining handful of mages into an underlying Subway tunnel.

Throwing the Weapon away, Simon looked around and realised to his horror we're he had stood; inside a massive crowd of people. The air was filled with the screams of the wounded and the wailing of the dying. He barely had time to let that fact sink in as he was already fired upon again by someone in long Robes Charging him. Simon took one last look at the screaming and wounded people behind him before he started erratically teleporting along the rooftops towards the edge of the City, determined not to let anybody else come to harm. Simon didn't encounter any more problems during his retreat, but the scream still echoed in his mind. It was as if a pit had opened in his stomach, all those people had died because of him and his carefreeness. How had they found him!? With despair he realized his mistake; the ring didn't just remove his Anima, no, it removed all the Anima in his surroundings. Which would be a dead giveaway in a city full of mages. Maybe if Simon had been more thoughtful he could've- No, there was no use in „if's". What happened, happened. Simon wouldn't be able to change anything that happened in the past. He could only change his ways in the Future and make sure never to make the same error twice. With anger burning in his mind at his own foolishness and the casual dismissal of Human Life by the MRF he charged his homebound teleport pattern and disappeared.

Weeks later, Simon returned.
He knew it was a massive risk, and his gut practically screamed at him to return home as soon as possible. Still, he stared at the burnt sidewalk and the scorched first floor of the building in front of which he had been attacked. He took it all in and, bending light around himself, turned away from the grisly scene. As he was about to teleport away, a ragged poster on a nearby lamppost caught Simons eyes. He stepped closer to decipher what the poster declared, only to have all colour leave his face. Six simple words were written on it and yet, it shock him to his core. „For sale: baby shoes, never worn." Simon thought back to the day of the attack, the day people died because of him.