Disclaimer: This isn�t real, this is fiction. No slander is meant to any music band, these events are inspired by the author�s madness, thank you.
The Story:
Slowly, brick by brick, he was being torn down. The unfortunate side of it was, it was all in his head.
Adam writhed frantically on the ground, just outside his kitchen door. His two strong hand that normally clutched beer, drumsticks, his lover, or food, now clenched the sides of his head in a death-grip, his fingers disappearing beneath his curling black hair. At the moment, his eye were wide open, desperately searching the empty sky above him. But he didn�t know that. Adam didn�t know anything but the wrecking crew inside his head determined to blow his very being into nonexistence.
It started years ago, he remembered vaguely. Years ago when the loss of his young love was still fresh and his heart as well as his mind was tormented night and day from his unchecked powers. Adam could not bring himself to bring control out of his madness. In truth, who could? He had lost his friend, his love, his best bud, Davey. They had stolen him, snatched him away right before his very eyes. His anger battled his sorrow in a never ending war, raging constantly throughout the day and most often through the night.
He was seized by sudden fights in the middle of the day. At night he re-lived the horrible, parting with ear- and mind-splitting screams of anguish. What he hadn�t told anyone, and truly didn�t know himself, was that for nearly two weeks during his mourning, Adam had been hospitalized for epilepsy. Of course, when he managed to overcome his grief, and the fits ceased, he was pronounced cured.
But what did he do? What helped him sort out the madness? Simple, he used every memory he could find about Little Davey and their time together. These memories he piled, one on top of the other, and made a crude wall of sorts. Layer upon layer of his life ringed off a wall of his mind, helping him not only forget his sorrow, but also a certain ability the reason for the sorrow brought out in him. The memories of Davey blocked off most of that part of his brain that allowed Adam to read minds.
But now, Adam felt with dread, those walls were coming down, and they were coming down fast.
He stood on this side of the void, the safe side of the wall. Every single memory he�d ever had of Davey sat in small, brick-like squares interlocking to create a wall. He glanced at a few and read the images off the surfaces like a television: Davey�s heart-melting smile; Davey holding up a disgusting, slimy frog with a disgusted but pleased smile; Davey blushing pink as he leaned over, small lips puckering for a kiss. . .
Adam came to this wall again when Davey began to show up. He didn�t take it down, nor did he touch any of the bricks. That was too dangerous on it�s own. He feared what was beyond the wall, what he had stored away so long ago, hoping it would simply disappear. But the closer he got to this wall, the more it vibrated dangerously. He had been wrong; whatever was behind there had grown stronger through the years. Almost too strong for the barrier.
Adam felt another earth-shattering rumble in the distance. They were trying to get in. They were trying to break the wall. They had no idea what was behind it. These people, these people that were standing over him in his own back yard, these people who were now invading his mind and tearing it apart, these people had no fucking clue what they were doing, what evil they were about to unleash.
Another blow, this one to his near right. A piece of the wall rippled but held. Adam watched another blow, a searing ball of white flames, hit the same spot. A small corner of one of those memories holding his wall up cracked and broke off. Adam walked over and picked up the piece, but as soon as his fingers touched the substance, it turned to smoke and wafted away.
He looked up and down his wall, seeing more blows hit and splinter more bricks, trying to find weakness in the wall. He whirled about, searching for his attackers. Black, darkness encircled him. He heard dark chuckles and saw flashes at the corners of his eyes, but he was still unable to see the interlopers.
�Cowards!� Adam shouted out to the darkness beyond his boundaries, the boundaries he was forced to be limited to in order to give his wall that extra strength to hold up against the onslaught of mental blows. �You�re COWARDS, all of you! Come out where I can see you! You�re too fucking chicken-shit to come out of your fucking shadows!�
�You�re the one in the shadow, Adam,� a smirking voice came to his left. He turned sharply and saw a man standing just feet away, dim with the shrouds of his own mental protection. Behind him, over a dozen more came into view. If he thought it was going to be easier if he could see his attackers, Adam was immediately proven wrong.
�What�s behind the wall, Adam?� the first man asked. As he did, he flung a hand to Adam�s barrier almost carelessly. The wall shook and actually lost a brick or two. Adam wailed and was ignored. �What�s behind the wall? What�s so important that it needs to be walled off form the rest of you?�
The man began to walk toward Adam. �What�s behind the wall, Mr. Carson? Tell me, why does it smell like vanilla through the cracks? Tell me. Tell me what�s behind the wall.� The last command reverberated through his mind as the others took up the command as well. Adam clutched his aching head and screamed as the words began tearing at his wall, at his mind.
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�What�s the plan?� Brian asked, mouth set at a half grin. �We kick some arse, that�s what we do. Steve, you set yourself up behind the Peeps, Stefan, you�re with me. Take this, these and this. I�ll take that one, this one, and. . . yes, think I�ll take that. Isn�t it fortunate of the Peeps to leave their van unlocked for us to pilfer?�
The three of them chuckled darkly, but almost half-heartedly. There were only three of them, going up against a troop of peeps and the heads of their department. If Brian knew that morning he�d try to mutiny against one of the most dangerous outfits in the world, he would have called for back up. Unfortunately, all the people that would have at least given the thought of rebellion were all the way on the other side of the world.
Brian cursed to himself. Well, you had to work with what you had. And he was pretty sure the three of them could handle the situation. The problem was. . . how were they going to make their getaway?
The problem had also occurred to Steven, their group analyzer. �Bri?� Steven asked quietly as they gathered their items for the rescue, still inside the van. Brian had dreaded this, but it was bound to happen. �What will we do when we rescue them? How do we get away?�
Brian knotted the ties for the holsters at his hips around his thighs. They weren�t guns, but knives. No weapon was enough protection against a mental assault, but if Steven�s end of the plot worked out, the knives would be necessary. Brian didn�t look up but set his jaw in a grin expression. �Well, you�re the analyzer, Steve,� Brian whispered, still audible to the other two, �have a think about it.�
Steve did. And when he got his answer, he paled and turned distant eyes on the objects in his hands. Stefan, however, wasn�t capable of such quick conclusions. �What?� he asked, looking from one to the other, �what the bloody hell is it?�
Steven looked up, eyes sad and quiet. �Stefan, this is a kamikaze mission. We might be able to save Adam and Davey, give them a chance to get away, but we�ll have to sacrifice ourselves in order to keep the Peeps busy. You still up to it?�
Stefan�s wide but thin mouth straightened and nearly disappeared in his distress. But he nodded. �Yeah, mate, I think I am. I mean, what the hell do I want to live for? Lung cancer?�
This brought a chuckle from Steve and Brian, which gladly broke the tension. �Right, there, luv.� Brian nodded, unlit cigarette flopping between his lips as he spoke. �We go out with our boots on. Though I might have wanted one more good fuck, think I�ll just wait �till we all reach hell first. You all ready then? Steve, careful with that. Don�t set it off until you get the signal. Stefan, you got. . . yes, that�s the one. Now, ladies, off we go!� his cheerful attitude was not as faked as the others thought. In fact, Brian was having a good time about this, really.
After all, he was about to die with his two best friends, what else could a guy ask for?
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Brian watched Steve disappear around to the neighbor�s yard. From there, he�d set up his items and cause the distraction Brian and Stefan would need for their side of the fight.
Brian peered around the fence and narrowed his eyes at the sight before him.
Davey stood before his aunt, Celeste, his expression switching back and forth from anger to terror to anguish and pain. But his body was no longer his. One telepath was enough to bring the man like a puppet to his aunt.
The woman herself stood in front of him, pawning and preening over him like a newly found puppy that had been lost for too long. �Davey darling, you�re so scrawny! And look at these tattoos! When on earth did you find the time to get all these? They look like they hurt. . . and the hair! Ah, that�s what threw us off, wasn�t it? Such dark hair, my little Davey. So black. And not long enough! Oh! Why on earth did you cut it? Don�t matter, I expect. When we get home, we�ll have someone give it a good was and set it into a braid, like you always liked, right, Davey? Isn�t that right, my dearest?�
Her wrinkled, strong hands roamed over his arms, her fingers through his hair. Her affections were motherly and strangely sweet. If anyone cared for Davey more than Adam, it was Celeste Ghrey. She had spent the last five years tracking him down, hadn�t she? Spending truckloads of money just to find her favorite nephew, her only nephew, and bring him home once again.
The scene would have been touching, would have made Brian doubt his decision, if Adam hadn�t still been screaming his throat raw.
There he was, rolling back and forth, back arching, feet kicking wildly as his body spasmed uncontrollably. His screams were drenched with pain, anger and wordless cries for help. The telepaths making mincemeat out of his brain were indifferent. This was nothing to them. They tore minds apart for their daily exercises. But the two still sitting at the table almost appeared to be having the time of their lives.
Madame Scarlett fluttered her red feathered fan back and forth as she chuckled to Commander Konrad Blue. They both watched with greedy eyes as Adam was assaulted by wave after wave of mental blows. �That bitch,� Brian muttered to himself. He had known Commander Blue to be a sadistic bastard, but Scarlett was supposed to have been a sympathizer simply because she was a woman. That had been a mistake, it seemed.
Brian turned to Stefan. �You ready, luv?�
Stefan looked away from the scene and met Brian�s eyes. There was a pause, then they both leaned over for what would be their last kiss. It was sweet, Brian thought, something he would miss later. If there would be a later for either of them, or their friend for that matter.
�Ready, luv.� Stefan nodded curtly, then pulled out his guns, the only guns on they found in the van. His job would be the next most important, after Steven set off the bomb in the back. The trouble was, after he set off the bomb, Steven wouldn�t be able to help. So it would just be the two of them.
Brian nodded, then checked his watch. Ten seconds. He glanced up and saw Celeste Ghrey still murmuring and cooing to Davey. Soon, she would try to lead him away. That�s when Brian would get to work on his own end, the most dangerous of all. But presently, she was still distracted with her own nephew that leaving hadn�t occurred to her yet. Brian could only think what the neighbors were thinking about the screaming, and how many of them had dialed the police yet.
He looked down at his watch. Five seconds. Four. . . three. . . two. . . one. . . bingo. Good to his word, Steven set off the bomb at the precise second, nearly surprising Brian along with the others in the yard.
The bomb wasn�t of the explosive variety, but rather of the sound. A telepath�s senses were more acute than a normal person�s, this not being common knowledge but years of government research. A simple dog whistle could be picked up on a certain wave length, if the telepath so wished to search for it. The makers of the Psych-bomb took this knowledge and redefined it to not only empower the sound a hundred fold, but make it nearly impossible for a telepath to think clearly for a thirty mile radius. That�s why Steven was the one to set off the bomb, and the only one of their trio that would be affected by its power.
Brian watched the entire troop of twenty telepaths sudden clutch their heads and fall to their knees. Some even rolled on the ground like Adam was. Brian saw this and knew Steven was doing the same, across the fence. �My brave friend, thank you.� Brian whispered, then started forward, following Stefan.
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�What the hell-?� Madame Scarlett demanded, standing hurriedly. Konrad Blue stood also, hand going inside his suit for the .45 in its shoulder holster. Because they were not the least bit telepathic, they could not hear the mind-splitting screech of the Psych-bomb. They simply saw their well-trained telepaths drop to the ground together, suffering as their captive was.
Scarlett turned to get an answer and was in time to see Konrad, her fellow comrade in arms for nearly thirty years, jerk once, twice, three times, the gun shots blaring seconds later. He fell back against the bench, hand still on his concealed weapon and face contorted in shock. Old age had made him soft and more susceptible to attack. Scarlett had just been reminding Celeste about the man�s retirement that very morning. Looks like she had been wasting breath. Speaking of breath. . .
Scarlett caught hers as the lanky fool shoved the gun in her face. She waited, but he didn�t pull the trigger. Instead, he watched her with calm patience. �You going to shoot, or stand there all day?� She asked, the cool, crisp tone never leaving her voice.
Stefan gave her a cheeky grin. �I�d shoot you in your pretty mug, but Brian wants to use you as leverage, no bloody idea why. You�re a filthy fuckin� whore, if you ask me. No good to anyone but Celeste.�
Scarlett turned her gaze past Stefan and saw that his friend, the boy who nearly looked like a girl, was holding her boss and best friend of forty years at knife point. Damn, she thought, they�re good.
�What do you want?� Celeste asked, smiling softly. She was amused as hell that the pretty boy had gotten the drop on her. Now, it was negotiation time.
Brian�s eyes slanted evilly and his lips curled to a grin. �Nothing, Celeste. Nothing, really, just that you let those two go without a fight.� he jerked his head toward Adam and Davey. As soon as the mental hold was off of him, Davey ran back to Adam, heedless of nothing else. He knelt beside his lover and cradled him to his chest, crying desperately.
Celeste saw this and let her smile show her disappointment. Her eyes turned to the telepaths she could see and noted their symptoms. She nodded. �Well thought out, boy. And Sophia and Konrad? Dare I ask?�
Brian didn�t bother glancing over. He knew Stefan had done his end of the bargain. �Unfortunately,� Brian said, confidence in his every word, �Commander Blue has seen the clearing at the end of the road. However, Madame Scarlett still has her pretty, but wrinkled face. You want her to keep it that way, you do as I say, got it?�
Celeste paused, looking Brian over carefully. �Hmm, not bad, not bad,� she said at last, �taking the more dangerous elements out first, then worrying about the harmless women after. Not bad, not great, mind you, but not bad.�
Seeing she wasn�t going to say more, Brian adjusted and walked around until he stood behind the grey-eyed woman, his knife still pressed hurtfully against her neck. �Walk.� He muttered in her ear. He drove her to Where Davey still clutched Adam to him, gently stroking back his hair from his pained face.
Davey looked up, saw his aunt, saw the knife, and saw Brian. �Why?� he asked, looking down at Adam to show what he meant, �why?�
Brian grimaced. �Davey, look, you need to get Adam and yourself out of here, you hear me? You need to get up and drag Adam if you have to! Dammit! Dave, do you hear me?�
�But, why?� Davey looked up with haunted, watery eyes. The tears overflowed and absently coursed down his cheeks. His eyes turned to his aunt. �She�ll come after us. She�ll find us like she found me. She�ll hurt him again. Aunt Celeste. . . I want Adam. I�ve always wanted Adam. You know that. He�s the only thing I�ve ever wanted in the world. And you want to take him away from me. Why? Why can�t you just let us be in love?�
Brian wisely stayed quiet. He saw Celeste Ghrey�s throat working and knew she was being effected by Davey�s words and manner. But her voice came out cold and ruthless as ever. �Davey, he doesn�t love you. I love you. I�ve always loved you. I�m the only one who�ll be there for you. We�re family. He�s not. Once he wakes up, do you think he�ll still love you? What with half his mind gone already, if not more so? Do you think he�ll still love you years from now? No, he�ll get tired of your crying, your emotional outbursts, your. . . your delicate ways. He�s a man, rough and hard, not what you need, Davey. You need to come home now, come on. Home. This place is too dangerous for you.� She turned her cold words to warm pleading nicely, Brian saw.
But Davey shook his head fiercely. �No! I�m never going back! I belong with Adam. He loves me, and I love him. You don�t know how it is! You pretend you know what I need, what I want, but I�m just a possession to you! A toy you keep around to show off to your friends and business partners. Why, aunt, why? Why not find someone else? Someone who�d be GLAD to be your nephew? Why me?�
Brian felt the woman tense beneath his knife and knew she was getting ready to do something she didn�t want to, but found she was forced to.
�Because, Davey,� and she said why. She said those words she hadn�t said for years to anyone but Scarlett, her closest confidant and best friend. Those words that meant an immediate death to Davey, just to have them uttered aloud.
Brian heard these words and dropped his jaw. He looked at Davey and only vaguely realized he�d dropped his knife. Now he put both hands on Celeste Ghrey to steady himself. What the hell. . .?
Unfortunately, Celeste knew what her words would do and had planned on the shock to not only hit Davey, but the pretty boy behind her. She waited until she felt both his hands on her shoulders before drawing the small dagger from her wrist sheath. She turned and with bitterness in her eyes, plunged the blade into Brian�s abdomen.
His eyes widened and his mouth worked soundlessly. Celeste held onto his shoulder with her free hand to steady him. The hand with the knife let go to trace his cheek. �Too bad,� she whispered to him, �I could have used such a pretty, smart one such as yourself. Go find death, boy.� She gave a push and watched him fall to the ground. He was still alive, but in a few minutes that wouldn�t matter. For, Celeste saw, the Psych-bomb was wearing off and her telepaths were waking up.
As they groggily got to their feet, spotting and taking care of the lanky one holding Scarlett captive, Celeste turned to Davey. She sighed tiredly. �The game is over, Davey. We�ll go home now, my son.�
She held out her hand to her only son, waiting for him to rise so that they could finally leave.
Davey stared at her for all of two minutes before shutting his gaping mouth. �Yes, mother.� he whispered, then took her hand. But as he was about to be led away, a faint whisper halted and froze him, making him turn back in horror.
�Davey.�
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