Fractured Soul Ep.2

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. A little boy cried out once again and then there was the sound of shattering glass.

The Paralegal had to downsize her entire life after losing ‘the big case’, tarnishing the firm's image and destroying her life. On the surface, the mishandling of evidence left her case full of holes but behind the scenes the corrupt businessman she had gone after paid off everyone he could. This left her with a new job at a much smaller firm. This forced her to take on more hours, which caused her children's father to seek comfort in the arms of a younger woman. The long hours also resulted in her receiving a smaller share of custody.

The woman her husband ran off with was 'Someone more homely and without ambition,' as The Paralegal was quoted by another worker after a night on the town. Because of comments like this, The Paralegal was rarely invited out anymore.

Now only able to represent in small cases The Paralegal was primarily that. A Paralegal, working horrible hours, for a pittance, all to enhance the glory of others. So one night as she sat alone at the cheap bar down the road from her hobble. Alone, until he spoke.

“Do you like dried apricots?” The Stranger asked.

The Paralegal’s left eyebrow perked as she looked him up and down, not unimpressed.

“I suppose.” The Paralegal replied.

“Me too,” The Stranger said with a smile before continuing. “But how about dates?”

The Paralegal laughed as The Stranger extended his hand. She knew it was a cheesy line and would have probably knocked the sleaze back, if not for the half bottle in her system, compounded by her string of bad luck.

“I’m Chris.” He said.

“Trisha.” She replied with a grin.

She set her phone down, relieved to be free from what was nothing but disappointment and contempt for the last string of messages she received. Relieved to have a well-dressed, handsome man trying to win her affection. Relieved to be free to feel like a beautiful young woman again. Relieved of the bottle of cheap booze she had been drinking.

“Wait! What?” She exclaimed as Chris poured it down the drain on the other side of the bar.

“Calm down Trish,” Chris said with a grin that mirrored the one she had moments ago.

“We’ll have that one.” Chris continued pointing at one particular top-shelf bottle.

Trish was stunned as the barkeep set down the bottle with an extra glass.

“You have good taste, I’ll give you that.” She said as Chris poured her a finger and then himself one.

Chris raised his glass and spoke.“To the young and beautiful.”

“To the rich and handsome, who buy my favourite booze,” Trish replied as they toasted.

The rest of the night was like a slum-dog fairytale. And ended just as one would imagine. She woke alone and with a throbbing headache. Compounded by the twenty-three messages and fourteen missed calls her day had been off to a bad start. She was in such a panic she didn’t even notice the smell of breakfast wafting down the hall and into the bedroom; until Chris walked in.

Out of panic, she threw her phone at him. Reality fractured. As one version of Chris sidestepped, avoiding the reality that he would have spilled the coffee he had prepared over his shirt. Trish looked on as the version of her in that reality had a look of shock washed over her. Both Trish’s put their hands to their mouths. Chris breathed a sigh of relief as he walked over and set down the tray.

“Well I was going to tell you all about this over breakfast but...” Chris began.

“But? Let’s start with, what the hell are you?” Trish shrieked.

Chris held out a cup of coffee and smiled as he waved his hand over it, transforming it from the cheap instant coffee from Trish's cupboard to a latte, perfectly crafted with a smiley face for the coffee art.

“These days that question is a lot easier to answer,” Chris stated as he transformed his coffee.

Trish waited with bated breath as Chris sipped his coffee. “And?”

Chris looked up, clearly playing uncoy as he smiled. “Your coffee will get cold.”

“Don’t dodge the question!” Trish said sharply.

Chris sighed and looked over at the other world playing out perfectly as that Trish tried her best to apologise. Trish looked over and back at Chris who was futzing with his coffee.

“Seeing that isn’t it obvious?” Chris asked not looking up.

“Yes, I’ve been drugged,” Trish replied.

Chris laughed as he replied. “In my experience that would be unlikely. Just ask yourself something complicated. If there’s no fog in your brain you’re sober.”

Trish scours her brain going over every piece of legal framework she can think of. Despite the hangover.

“See your mind is clear,” Chris stated.

“Then I’m crazy! The horrors of my life have caused a psychotic episode.” She gasped.

“I still think you’d be pretty foggy not to mention I wouldn’t be able to do this.” Chris waved his hand past her as he spoke.

Suddenly Trish’s hangover dissipates. Again she is flabbergasted, awed, and afraid. Then he pinches her.

“Oww!” Trish said sharply, glaring, the fear gone.

Holding his hands up and letting the coffee cup float Chris blurted out. “Hey, now you should know I’m not in your head.”

“Then what are you?” Trish asked, gathering herself.

“A demi-god, one with the power to rewrite reality,” Chris said sadly.

Trish looked around from the world where Chris spilled the coffee and back to the Chris in front of her.

“Then why are you so sad?” Trish interrogated.

“Because I only have half a fractured soul.” He said, looking up slowly.

“So you felt nothing for me,” Trish said slowly.

“I do, so don’t start talking as if this is the past.” Chris began. “I feel you’re the first person in a very long time who can stand as my equal.”

Trish’s eyebrows sprung up. She smirked as she found the words to describe his.

“Did you just say I do to a lady?” She said teasing.

Chris laughed before saying “Perhaps I did.”

Trish looked around.

“You said equal. What do you mean?” She asked.

“I’ll share my power to rewrite reality with you.” He stated.

“You can do that?” She blurted.

“What makes you think I couldn’t?” He replied with sincere surprise.

“So I’d become a demi-god?” Trish asked, ignoring his question in her excitement.

“Well, technically you’d be a divine human, you have to be born a demi-god,” Chris said with a smile.

Trish got up forgetting her sheet for a moment. Without looking, Chris waved his hand shifting his shirt to her. Trish looked down and then back at Chris.

“Thanks.” She said as her face burned.

“You were going to say?” Chris asked.

“Right! Where do we begin?” Trish asked, remembering her excitement. “And how?”

Chris got up retrieving his coffee from the air above the bed. He walked over to her as he finished it.

“Close your eyes and try to picture everything you want to change,” Chris said, stepping behind her.

Trish let her mind wander and smiled.

“Ready?” Chris asked as he placed one hand on her head and the other on her back.

“Yeah, I think so,” Trish replied.

“Then wave your hand the way I do.” He instructed.

Trish waved her hand. She opened her eyes, beyond the hyperdimensional curtain the two looked on at her children sitting around a table in a luxurious home eating breakfast. Trish put her hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong? It looks pretty good to me.” Chris asked.

“Something’s missing.” She began. “Can I add something to it?”

“Sure,” Chris said positively.

Trish waved her hand again. The doorbell rang and Trish stepped out from her hyperdimensional curtain as her son got up to answer it.

“I’ll get it, you finish your breakfast,” Trish said heading for the door.

She opened it and her ex-husband, Ray, stood there looking sorry for himself.

“Trish, Trish, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t.” He began.

“Save it!” She interjected. “You played dirty and I won, that's what the facts are.”

“But!” Ray blurted as Trish slammed the door in his face.

Chris walked up behind Trish.

“What did you change?” Chris asked.

“Mostly just the outcome of my last big court case.” She replied.

“And him?” Chris began. “Normally I have a rule where people aren’t allowed to make things worse for others.”

“I didn’t, he wanted to say that, even before this morning,” Trish replied.

“How do you know?” Chris asked.

“Not sure, but when you touched me I could feel it. All the people who were hurt by my losing that case.” She said.

“Most people aren’t that perceptive,” Chris stated proudly.

“Well, you said I could stand as your equal,” Trish stated triumphantly as they walked back to the dining room.

She hugged her kids.

“Alright I’m off to work, you right to see the kids to school?” Trish asked.

“Already palming your kids off onto me?” Chris asked uncoy.

“Well you want some of your own, I have to test you, don’t I?” She replied equally uncoy.

“What makes you think I want some?” He blurted in disbelief.

“I felt it, amongst other things,” Trish replied, smiling as she turned and walked away.

Trish sat in her office staring at the rain outside.

“It’s been eighteen months since everything changed,” Trish said as she looked down at the engagement ring on her finger. She smiled before the bottom dropped out of her stomach. She began having visions of the cabin deep in the woods. She could feel the pain those that had preceded her felt as their souls were harvested.

“That son of a...” She began.

“Ma’am?” came a voice that pulled her back to her office.

Trish opened her eyes and saw one of her paralegals, Alison, standing in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Ali asked concerned.

“I’m fine Ali, thanks,” Trish replied.

“You're crying,” Ali added, even more concerned.

“I am?” Trish blurted as she pulled out her phone and used it as a mirror.

Seeing the tears for herself she knew she had to change her strategy.

“Oh! These are happy tears.” She said with a smile.

“Oh, okay,” Ali responded doubtfully, realising she was overstepping.

“Anyway, what brings you to my office?” Trish asked.

“Ah, I brought the Kawamata files you asked for,” Ali responded.

“And?” Trish responded curiously.

“He’s guilty,” Ali states happily.

“The client will be overjoyed,” Trish said getting up. “Leave them on my desk, I’ve some errands to run.”

Trish walked up to a familiar door and knocked. A moment later Rachel opened the door. She smiled and turned her head.

“Rob, your protege is here,” Rachel called out.

“Which one?” Robbo shouted back from behind the canvas.

“The one that can’t cook,” Rachel said with a smirk as Robbo drifted around the corner.

“Hey, we can’t all be master chefs,” Trish responded as Robbo stepped in and hugged her.

“We can be.” Rachel laughed.

“Funny,” Trish responded. “Got a minute Robbo?”

“Sure,” Robbo said, leading her out to the balcony.

As soon as they were outside Trish’s expression turned serious.

“It's begun,” Trish said sternly.

“How much have you been using it?” Robbo said, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

“Periodically. How about you?” Trish asked concerned.

“Too much. I haven't got much time left.” Robbo stated calmly.

“What do we do?” Trish asked.

“Build an army. That’s what I’ve been doing.” Robbo replied, taking a big drag on his cigarette.

“I thought you said you didn’t have much time,” Trish stated.

“I don’t. The next will probably be my last.” Robbo said with a smile.

“Then take someone to the next level. Otherwise, who’s going to lead your army?” Trish exclaimed.

One of Robbo’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at Trish.

“Me? You’ve got to be kidding.” Trish said, shocked.

“He said it himself, you’re someone who can stand as his equal,” Robbo stated.

Trish knew the moment Robbo’s soul was harvested. She knew before it was extracted that something in the ether was off. She was sitting at home with a light beer watching TV. After Robbo was gone she confronted Chris.

“You must have known what was about to happen,” Trish asked.

Chris was silent as he cooked.

“You must have known for so long,” she said her glare like ice.

“You knew too,” he responded coldly as if he’d had this conversation before.

“That’s it?” She responded as she turned, wiping her tears away.

She walked off and undid the house they lived in until that moment.

Six months passed and Trish spent every waking moment thinking of Chris, but not in a romantic way. Revenge was the theme guiding her mind and hands. After finding Robbo’s army she did as he wished and took on a leadership role. It was there she learned that Chirs had been doing this for a long time. Possibly hundreds if not thousands of years.

As Trish was looking through documents alluding to Chris’ origins she was interrupted. The door was open yet Ali still knocked. Trish looked up.

“What’s up?” Trish asked.

“You’ve been locked up in this room for a week now. You don’t even leave when you need to sleep.” Ali said sternly.

“I’m fine,” Trish said, trying to quell her bed hair.

“You might be but what of your kids?” Ali retorted.

“And what of Robbo?” Trish spat.

“Don’t use his name to justify this,” Rachel said, turning the corner.

Trish was taken aback as Rachel glared at her.

“Sorry,” Trish said, backing down.

Go spend some time with your kids.” Rachel said with an air of concern.

Trish spent the rest of the day with her kids and the night tossing and turning as she dreamed of the cabin. The last thing she saw before bolting upright was two eyes, blood red and a child. As she sat in her bed, sweat dripping from her brow she felt the pull, stronger than ever. It was almost unbearable, her eyes glazed over, and she felt herself drifting off. Until she thought of her children and what it would do to them if she gave in.

It was instinct that saved her but she did cry out waking her children and the people in the nearby rooms. Several guards teleported into the room as Ali consoled Trish’s children in the next room. One of the guards looked down at the ice pick lodged in Trish’s thigh.

“That bastard,” the guard shot.

“It was me, Dave,” Trish said as she pulled it out and healed the wound.

“What?” Dave exclaimed.

“It was involuntary. I saw what was in the cabin and was about to be pulled towards it when instinct kicked in.” Trish said slowly her wound now a thing of the past.

“Impressive,” The other guard said with a smirk. “I can see why he picked you.”

“Thanks, Tom,” she replied.

“Mum?” A soft voice uttered from the next room.

Trish turned her attention to the door.

“It’s okay Tara,” Trish said reassuringly as she beckoned her daughter.

Tara reached her mother’s bed and hugged her. Trish’s son Nick followed close behind as Ali stepped into the doorway.

“No one’s ever pulled themself back,” Ali said, stunned.

“Almost no one,” Chris uttered from the corner. “Although this is a new one.”

Everyone spun around in an instant, weapons drawn and aimed at Chris.

“Relax. I’m not here for a fight, I was just curious,” Chris began.

“Yeah, I’m not relaxing until you’re in a body bag.” Dave spat.

Chris rotated his hand as if turning a dial and everyone's weapons disappeared. The room tried a moment to resummon their defences but their powers had been bound. Save Trish.

“Yes, it’s as you suspect. In my presence, you’re powerless, except you Trish.” Chris continued.

“Is this what you meant by standing as my equal?” Trish enquired, her pistol aimed at Chris’ head.

“Pretty much. But I hoped you would reach the next level with your eyes closed.” Chris summarised.

“Well sorry to break it to you but that isn’t in my nature.” Trish spat venomously.

“Oh? And where were you heading the night we met?” Chris taunted.

Trish fell silent as the room looked at her. They all knew, even Nick. However, Trish remained stoic.

“Well it’s time,” Chris stated.

“Time for what?” Tom asked.

“The final showdown,” Chris replied with a smile.

“Ready when you are!” Dave exclaimed gleefully.

“Sorry, but none of you would be of any use to us,” Chris stated, shooting Dave a condescending glance.

“Us?” Ali said, confused.

“Yes, Trish is going to make me whole again,” Chris stated.

“And if she refuses?” Tom asked, concerned.

“That won’t happen,” Chris said as he turned his hand making Tara and Nick disappear.

Trish opened fire but the bullets disappeared the moment they were about to make contact. Chris looks disappointed.

“Come on, you're going to have to try better than that.” Chris taunted.

Trish teleported into range and unleashed a roundhouse kick. Again she missed as Chris teleported away. Again and again the two clash all around the world. It was atop the empire state building that Trish landed the first blow. Chris staggered as she punched him in the gut. Then, moments later, at Champ de Mars, Chris returned the favour and punched her in her abdomen.

The battle was tit for tat for many hours until both were out of breath. Then within a cave, Chris held up his hand. Both stopped and looked at each other.

“Time out.” Chris gasped.

“Okay, but make it worth my while!” Trish wheezed.

“Haven’t you noticed what I’ve been doing?” Chris stated as he pants.

“No,” Trish stated shortly.

“I’ve been increasing the difficulty slowly,” Chris said with a smile.

Trish looked perplexed. Until she realised his intent.

“Exactly,” Chris said looking hopeful.

“Bastard!” Trish shouted as she unleashed a roundhouse kick to his jaw.

Chris spun as he flew through the air. He rose to his feet a moment later rubbing his jaw.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Chris asked.

“Kickboxing classes. Now return my kids!” Trish shouted her words echoing ominously.

“After you agree to do my bidding,” Chris stated coldly.

“Fine,” Trish said in utter defeat.

“Good, then help me save the child in my life,” Chris stated.

“Seriously?” Trish asked, baffled.

“What were you expecting?” Chris asked, genuinely concerned.

“Well, you know. It doesn’t matter.” Trish said, trying to save face as hers burned.

“Oh, my God. You thought I wanted you to give me one, didn't you?” Chris exclaimed.

“Shh. It doesn’t matter now. I know what you want and I’m willing to help.” Trish said in a soothing voice.

“How evil did you think I was?” Chris blurted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Trish said reassuringly.

“Whatever, let’s go,” Chris said as he walked over.

“My children first,” Trish said shortly.

Chris opens a viewing portal and Trish peered through at her children sitting with Ali. Smiling.

“When did you?” Trish began.

“About ten minutes ago,” Chris stated. “Let's go.”

The two warped to the cabin in the woods. Chris took a deep breath and began walking towards the door. The two paused a moment before entering the cabin.

A short while later the little boy cried out.

“No! Help her!” Cried the little boy.

There was the sound of shattering glass and then Chris burst out the door, slammed it behind him and collapsed on the ground in front of the cabin. He gasped for air as the candle went out. He looked back at it for a moment and got up. The energy of his soul radiated off him as he walked away.

To be continued…

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Thank you for reading a ThisIsOmniWar.com story

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