Just Another Face in the Crowd

John Smith is quite possibly the most average teenager on the face of the planet.

Until the night he renders the laws of physics obsolete and throws his city into chaos.


6. Six


John stepped onto the street in front of his house. Turning back, he could see the smoldering ruins of what was once his home. He had torn the place apart and burnt it to the ground.

His irises were not the dull blue they usually were; they were gold in color, bright, sharp gold.

It was night time, and street lamps illuminated the otherwise dark streets. People had begun running out of their houses to see what had happened.

Something had happened to John in those few hours he blacked out; something that left him with the ability to warp time, space and gravity as we know it.

His very existence at the moment rendered Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity obsolete.

The problem was that it was not John who was in control. There was something else with him; inside his mind, an entity tearing at the very nerves that controlled his actions. The ‘thing’ inside him had effectively taken over, and it had the power to rewrite the laws that defined the universe.

John leapt into the air.

He did not hit the ground.

He bent his knees, and floated a meter above the road. The air around him shimmered as he flexed his fingers.

He threw his arms upwards and flew higher than the street lamps.

John hovered ten meters above the tarmac and slowly let his arms down, before making fists with his open palms; a quick, harsh motion that caused the air to ripple.

A vicious metallic sound resonated through the neighborhood as John warped gravity around most of the vehicles parked by houses.

The cars were instantly lifted twenty feet into the air. Almost forty vehicles in total were suspended high above the ground, floating in odd positions; some were upside down, and some were even torn in half by the sheer force that had broken gravity’s effect around them.

John grinned like a demon when he saw the panicked families and individuals running for safety, all crying out in disbelief and fear.

He suddenly threw his arms up, and the cars and vans were tossed in all directions like they were wads of crumpled paper.

The vehicles slammed into the ground with devastating force. Some crashed through the roofs of houses, and others ended up crushing frightened pedestrians who could not get away in time.

One minivan was sent hurtling into a petrol station. An explosion lit up the night like it was midday. Fire engulfed the station, and the sound could render those nearby deaf. Debris and shrapnel rocketed out from the inferno, mauling unfortunate innocents.

John observed the explosion, and then clasped his hands together. Immediately, the explosion froze in place. Some people actually stopped and stared at the vicious fires, which were seemingly locked in time.

John pulled his hands apart, and the explosion tripled in intensity. A miniature mushroom cloud shot high into the night sky. Fire fell from the sky like torrential rain. Dust and ash began accumulating in potholes and pits on the streets.

Apparently content with the chaos he had created, John distorted space around himself. The air around him shimmered with a dull light, and John vanished.

He was instantly transported to a separate location, about ten kilometers from where the explosion he created occurred.

A massive sonic boom marked his arrival. He could see the city center below him, millions of lights shining in a multitude of colors. The streets were busy; packed with people heading home after work, or going out for dinner. Thousands of people were either stuck in traffic, enjoying an evening dinner, shopping to their heart’s content or perhaps heading for evening business meetings.

Police cars, fire trucks and ambulances were trying to weave through traffic as they headed toward the explosion, which was visible even from the city.

Skyscrapers stood out from the shorter buildings like spikes on a heart rate monitor.

John hovered close to the tallest one. It was completely covered by glass windows, and blue lights lit up the building like a Christmas tree. The skyscraper itself was the epitome of modernity. With its sleek design, John had once remarked that it looked like a shampoo bottle with a pointed top.

John dropped onto the top of the skyscraper, landing on his hands and feet, like a professional acrobat.

He stood up, and observed the bustling city. Smiling in anticipation, he rubbed his hands together.

Then he roared. It was a brutal sound, more vicious than any beast. He amplified his voice, and every soul in the city for kilometers around heard it. Vehicle alarms went off all around the city, and beyond it.

Every single window lining the outside of the skyscraper he was standing on shattered instantly, along with the windows of every building nearby.

People leaning against the glass fell out, meeting a grisly fate on the pavement far below. Shards of glass fell from the extreme heights, injuring and killing people below. One man was cleanly decapitated by a flat pane of glass which fell from the top floor.

Within minutes, SWAT teams, police cars, ambulances and fire trucks arrived on scene. Their flashing lights and loud sirens irritated John. He thought of the authorities as simply an annoyance.

He leapt off the skyscraper, and plummeted over a hundred floors head first down to the street below.

People shouted and pointed as a spotlight was cast on John’s falling figure. He was like a rocket; he pointed his arms straight down, and his legs were held together behind him.

He approached the ground at a tremendous speed.

He only had thirty floors left.

The lights in the windows raced past.

Twenty floors.

He was not going to stop just yet.


John grinned wildly.

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