Surviving Dinner

The Villain:

Oh, the pleasure I feel at this moment! All of my friends, lined up on each side of the banquet table. There are nine of them. four on each side and one on the end. I’ve been planning this dinner for a month. Well, in all fairness, I have one of these dinners each month, so that’s really all the time I have to prepare.

Each time, I try to improve upon my mental ability. Controlling them is easy at this point. I just wish I could have enough control over them to remove the fear from their faces. At least I had enough ability to heal their wounds after I persuaded them to join me. I left the blood-stained clothes on them to remind them of what happens when they turn me down. It’s for their own good after all. Why would anyone want to miss out on all this fun I have planned?

A grunt echoes off the high walls. I turned to see my lead servant standing at the entrance to the kitchen. There is still a small amount of pleasure I feel at the thought of breaking his spirit. He had given up fighting my control of him long ago. Now, I don’t even use my ability on him. He just does what I say without a word. I realize that his grunt was to inform me that dinner is ready. I turn to my esteemed guests to let them know of the event I brought them here for.

“Honored guests, friends I’ve never met before, I bring you here for dinner so that we can play a game. It is a game that I’ve played many times before and I couldn’t bear the thought of not sharing it with you.” More servants, dressed in tuxedos, come in from behind each guest with a covered plate in hand. They set the plates down in front of each person and lift the lids. On each plate is a steaming, cooked raven, its belly split down the middle to reveal the delectable innards, mixed with a mustard sauce of my own recipe. It is by far my favorite dish. “The game is simple,” I continue. “Five out the ten Ravens before us are laced with a poison of my own making.”

At these words, strange groans of fear come from each guest. They always insist upon protesting! I could never understand why. Don’t they realize the gamble involved in this? The thrill of the guessing game? I cannot get angry again. I had always become angry the first few times I played this game, but now I am simply annoyed. With the annoyance clipping my words, I decided to press on.

“The game is simple. Each of you will eat your dinner and enjoy each bite. That is, of course, unless you get one of the poisoned ones. At which point, you will only get to enjoy one bite. This poison is designed to begin working the moment it crosses your lips. It will numb your mouth and tongue and burn on its way down to your stomach. Your penalty for losing this game will result in a most painful death, of which you will not be able to scream. However, if you can finish your dinner without dying, you will win the most glorious of prizes! An instant death! Quick! Painless! Not a tear will be shed!”

At this point, I am beaming with excitement! The anticipation of the coming carnage sends my heart racing. The thought of each person writhing in pain as the poison takes hold is too much!

Oof!

What was that? The air... it... it punched me. The woman sitting directly at my left moved her arm. No! I cannot lose control! I focus on all of them, willing each to sit still. Whatever that was, I cannot allow myself to get distracted. I’ll have to figure out that mystery later. The dark-haired lady at the far end of the table looks different. That’s not fear on her face. It’s focus. She stares at me with the utmost hate and contempt; I decide she must be the first to take a bite.

“Let us begin,” I say. “Don’t worry, I have a plate of my own. My head servant has randomly poisoned the plates, so there will be no knowing who will die slowly, and who will die quickly. I will be taking part in this game as well.”

I reach my fork down into the intestines of the bird. I promptly take one savory bite and smile. My dinner would never be one of the poisoned ones. I wouldn’t take much pleasure from that. As such, it is the only controlled plate. But I am far too excited to see what happens to continue eating. I force more of my will towards the lady at the end of the table. A fighter, this one. But she still does as she is supposed to.

She dips her fork into the raven. With a shudder, the fork twirls the intestines into the prongs. With a grimace on her sweat-covered face, she lifts the intestine filled fork to her lips and takes her bite. Nothing. No squirm or grimace. Oh well, maybe the next one. I then move my will towards the rugged cowboy sitting next to her. As the bite crosses his lips, I saw his eyes go wide. YES! A loud groan comes from him. Fear shoots across his face. As the poison seeps into his body, he begins to convulse and fall to the floor. He coughs, and blood spurts from his mouth. Rage fills me as crying groans come from those around the table! I can’t contain myself! “SHUT UP! Stop ruining my fun!” My will clamps down on their vocal cords and they go silent. Still, tears fill each face. I can ignore that easily enough.

I watch the man on the floor with delight. Fair in face, he would have made any woman a happy one. Now, I have stolen that from him. No more future. Everyone he will ever touch, help, console, or affect will have to suffer without him. And I, yes, I AM THE ONE that had the power that stopped him! The convulsing stops, and he goes limp. On to the next!

Anxious to get on to the next delicious death, I will the next three guests to fill their forks. The first man, a Native American takes a bite. Nothing. How disappointing. I will the third one, the drag queen sitting directly next to me to fill her fork. The second guest, a biker who thought she could over-power me when I stole her right out in front of her friends, takes a bite. The fear in her eyes becomes evidence that her plate was poisoned, and my excitement causes me to squeal with the utmost glee! Like the one before her, she convulsed, fell to the floor, and coughed up blood. I soaked it all in. My cheeks begin to hurt from my inability to stop smiling so wide!

The second person, a short bald man, took his bite, and then the drag queen next to me. Neither of their plates contained poison. I decided to go ahead and take another bite of my dinner, but before I could do so, a loud clatter comes from behind me. I turn to see what it was, only to discover my china cabinet doors had flung open. None of the china was damaged, but the glass imbedded within the doors had broken. I don’t have time for this. There is still more death to be had, and as annoying and confusing as this is, I decide that I will deal with it later. I turn back to my plate. I hastily dip my fork into the innards and raise it to my lips.

Something is wrong. I look at each guest. The fear that has previously inhabited their faces has now been replaced with anticipation. Have they finally seen the truth of this? Have they come to their senses and discovered the joy that can be found in this game? I can only hope so. I take my bite.

Immediately, my mouth goes numb. No! What is this? Why? I glance at my raven. I then look at the poisoned raven at the third chair. It has moved! It is not in the same position! IT’S MY RAVEN! How did they do this? How did they switch these plates? A white light fills my vision. A surging, white hot pain flashes through my body and I begin to convulse. This is it, isn't it? This is what it feels like to die. Realizing that my time is short, I quickly come to grips with the reality. I would never had thought my game could end like this. My vision suddenly goes dark. I can no longer hear anything nor move. I can feel only the blood pooling from my mouth.

I have only one final thought before my mind is unable to function: I think about the evening. It was a magnificent dinner. This game was the most fun I’ve ever had. It was fun, not because of the deaths of others, but fun because, for the first time ever, I lost.

The Hero:

She was so good to me. My beautiful Mercury. I bought her brand new 14 years ago. Now, her end has finally come. I knew it was about to happen. I just had so much trouble letting her go. She’s lasted longer than any of my ex-boyfriends. I hope my car isn’t the reason I’m a single woman, but if so, that problem is solved. I suppose I must face the reality of letting go of a car that I may or may not have put too much sentimentality onto. But why here? Why in the middle of nowhere?

My mental ability to manipulate objects around me didn’t help with a vehicle this complex. Too many moving parts and components. Besides, I try not to use the ability for personal gain. Mostly, I use it to give a boost to someone’s day. Help the needy, save those in danger… you know, basic superhero stuff. Except that, unlike superheroes, I won’t flaunt my deeds.

As the sun begins to set beyond the trees, the forest around me starts to take on a creepy vibe. The sound of the wind rustling the trees sends chills through me. Just as I reach for my cell phone to call for help, a sharp pain shoots through my head. Everything goes black.

When I come to, I realize that I can’t move. Not a single muscle. The room I’m in is dark, lit by a hanging candelabra above the large banquet table before me. I notice that I’m not alone. I’m on the end of the table and there are nine others around the table: four on each side and one graying, long haired old man on the very end with an extremely creepy smile drawn across his face. I've met him before. I don't know where or when, but he looks familiar... from somewhere in my childhood.

I attempt to move my arm. Nothing. My ability to move objects with my mind is simply a use of my will to expand and contract the air around an object. I attempt this with my arm. I feel the pressure from the air, but my arm stays put. Whatever is holding me in place is strong.

A grunt comes from somewhere on my left, but I am unable to turn my head to see where it comes from. The old man looks in that direction, nods his head, then returns his attention to us and speaks. A thin, tinny voice with a Welsh accent suddenly fills the air.

“Honored guests, friends I’ve never met before, I bring you here for dinner so that we can play a game. It is a game that I’ve played many times before and I couldn’t bear the thought of not sharing it with you.”

Servants come in from behind each of us and set covered plates down. They open the lids and reveal the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. Raven corpses with the bellies split open and yellowed innards inside.

“The game is simple. Five out the 10 ravens before us are laced with a poison of my own making.”

What kind of madness is this?! Is this his doing? Does he have some strange power to stop our movements? Is he a sociopath with the same power I have? It is my only deduction. Whatever the case, I must try and fight this. He’s going to kill people!

A look of annoyance crosses his face at the fearful groans in response to his words. What did he expect?

“The game is simple. Each of you will eat your dinner and enjoy each bite. That is, of course, unless you get one of the poisoned ones. At which point, you will only get to enjoy one bite. This poison is designed to begin working the moment it crosses your lips. It will numb your mouth and tongues and burn on its way down to your stomach. Your penalty for losing this game will result in a most painful death, of which you will not be able to scream. However, if you can finish your dinner without dying, you will win the most glorious of prizes! An instant death! Quick! Painless! Not a tear will be shed!”

I must save these people. I must use my power against his. I focus all my will towards the air around his head. I can only hope it works. I constrict as much air as I can, swing it back, and then force it with all I can towards him. It works! A look of surprise crosses his face as he is hit. With his attention broken, I see the woman next to him move her arm. Unfortunately, before I can do anymore, his will clamps down harder. Anxious to move on, he continues.

"Let us begin,” he says. “Don’t worry, I have a plate of my own. My head servant has randomly poisoned the plates, so there will be no knowing who will die slowly, and who will die quickly. I will be taking part in this game as well.”

He reaches his fork down and fills it. Could he truly be taking his own life into account with this gamble? If so, there’s a chance I may not have to do anything at all. Hopefully this kills him. He takes his bite, smiles, then puts his fork down. Then, he looks at me. Suddenly, my arm moves. My hand moves against my will around the fork. Oh no! I focus my will as hard as I can. There is a slight shuddering of my arm as my fork twists the disgusting intestines into it. I really hope this isn’t a poisoned raven. I lift the fork into my mouth and take my bite. Nothing. The slimy food that passes through my mouth has a sweet, but sickly mustard taste to it. If I had control of my own body, I would vomit.

Disappointed, the old man looks at the cowboy next to me. He does the same thing. This time, when he takes his bite, fear crosses his face. Horror fills me in realization of his fate. His face goes white and he begins to groan. Within a minute, he starts going into convulsions and drops to the floor. The old man has a sinister grin on him that sends shivers down my spine. Fearful groans echo from myself and those around me as we watch this man die. The familiarity of the old man rings through my head. Where have I seen him before?

“Shut up!” the old man squeals. “Stop ruining my fun!” My voice stops as I feel an invisible hand constrict on my throat. Silence fills the air. His attention then returns to the man on the floor and his grin grows wider. This dude is a monster! A true villain unlike any I have ever met!

Once the victim goes limp, sadness begins to overwhelm me. I cannot allow anymore deaths. The old man must be in a hurry because now three of the people to my right are filling their forks. The first one, a Native American, takes a bite but is unaffected. I’m relieved, but still fearful. The drag queen next to the old man then fills her fork as a lady with a biker jacket begins to take a bite.

A china cabinet. I notice it just now right behind him. Maybe, if I can distract him long enough, I can take him out. Just as this thought occurs, the lady who had just taken a bite begins to convulse. NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!! I must stop this! No more people can lose their lives to this mad man!

I try as hard as I can to focus the air around the china cabinet, but the old man squeals with glee and distracts me. I need to wipe that ferocious sneer off the old man. I put my hatred for his ugly face at the forefront of my mind and return more focus on the cabinet. He finishes off the line bites from the remaining two victims, each surviving their bites and then fills his own fork once more. Just before he can take his bite, I release the air built up around the china cabinet. The doors swing open with such force that the glass embedded within the doors shatter.

The old man swiftly turns to see what happened. Yes! His attention is broken. My will is back in place and I quickly lift his slightly in the air. The plate from the lady who just died then lifts as well and each plate floats quickly but quietly into each other’s place.

The old man returns his attention to the plate he assumes is his with a scowl on his face. Just as he dips his fork into his raven, he hesitates. Each victim is looking at him in anticipation. They had all seen what I had just done. Oh, I hope they don’t give me away. Take your bite!

He cocks his head slightly in curiosity but takes his bite anyway. There it is! The look of surprise on his face was enough to fill me with such joyous relief! His face goes flush as his eyes dart towards his raven, then at the plates in front of the dead victims. Recognition passes his face as he sees the raven in front of the dead woman. He knows what just happened, he just doesn’t know how. With his attention broken, the remaining victims and I quickly move from our seats. Along with the servants, everyone scatters. The head servant is at a door at the far end of the room beckoning for everyone to follow him to the exit. He has a smile of happiness and relief on his face.

The old man lay on the floor, convulsing. I stepped up to him and watched. I had to make sure he died. No more lives will be claimed by him. One less bad guy to destroy the innocent. A moment of sadness passes through me as I glance at the other two bodies. I’ll have to live with their deaths. I’ll have to learn to live with the events of this evening. But if there is one thing I have learned from it all: I will no longer be quiet about my abilities. It’s time for the villains of the world to know there’s a new force to be reckoned with. After all, I suddenly realized that I did just take out my own grandfather.