Villain Recruitment: I'm Just A Psychic

The morning sun barely reached the narrow alley where Anna and I were running.

The early rays flickered off the wet pavement, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and grow.

The air was cold, cutting through my skin with a chill that matched the dread coiling around my chest.

Every breath I took felt laboured, each step a little heavier than the last.

Anna's grip on my arm was tight, her fingers cold, but I felt the weight of her urgency more than the cold.

She was pulling me forward with a desperation I couldn't quite understand.

Her face was a mask of determination, eyes forward, scanning for threats, but every few moments, she'd glance back at me.

Her gaze was filled with something else now—fear, perhaps?

Or maybe it was guilt.

But there was no time for questions, no time to ask her what was going on.

I was still reeling from what had happened.

The invisible men, the voices—they were gone for now, but I could still feel the residue of their presence lingering in my head.

The cars in the parking lot, the destruction, the lives lost—it was all too much.

I didn't know how to process it, how to deal with the fact that I had killed someone.

That I had... done something that had shattered everything in an instant.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something worse was coming.

I couldn't shake the thought that maybe Anna wasn't just helping me run.

Maybe she wasn't just trying to get me out of there.

The alley was narrow, a small path between two towering buildings.

Trash littered the ground, the scent of rot mixing with the faint smell of gasoline.

The walls of the buildings were covered in grime, a mix of dirt and soot from years of neglect.

It was quiet here, eerily so, but my senses were on high alert.

The silence didn't feel safe.

It felt like a trap.

I glanced at Anna, her face unreadable, but her jaw was clenched, her body tense.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

I felt like I was suffocating, like the very air was closing in on me.

"We have to keep moving," Anna said, her voice sharp, but not without a hint of strain.

She wasn't looking at me.

Her eyes darted around the alley, her shoulders tight, as if she expected something to leap from the shadows. "Don't slow down, Jayden. Not now."

"I know," I rasped. My throat felt dry, every word leaving a trail of exhaustion in its wake.

I didn't want to think about the past few hours, the chaos that had unravelled in the parking lot.

I didn't want to think about the people I had killed.

But I couldn't stop the thoughts from flooding in, crashing over me like a wave.

The invisible men.

The voices in my head.

And then... then the power that had exploded out of me.

I didn't know what it was, what it had done to me, but I could still feel it—the raw energy pulsing through my veins, the fury, the confusion, and the fear.

Anna didn't slow her pace, but I could see her hands trembling, the slight shake of her arms.

It was subtle, but it was there. And then, without warning, she stopped.

I almost crashed into her, stumbling to a halt just a few inches behind her.

"Anna?" I breathed, my voice barely a whisper.

Her head snapped around, her eyes wide with something I hadn't seen before.

Panic?

Fear?

And then she did something I never expected.

She reached into her jacket.

My heart stopped.

A thousand thoughts flashed through my head in an instant.

She wasn't going to—

But before I could even react, she spun around, and in a single, fluid motion, the blade of a knife was pressed to my throat.

I froze.

The cold steel against my skin made my stomach turn, bile rising in my throat.

Anna's eyes were cold, hard—no longer the girl who had been running with me just moments before.

"Anna," I said, my voice hoarse, cracking.

I couldn't understand it.

Why was she doing this?

Why was she—?

"You're a danger, Jayden," she said, her voice low but carrying an edge of dark amusement.

Then she grinned, wide and sharp, a glint of malice in her eyes.

"I'll admit, I didn't expect you to be this strong. When those two idiots failed, I thought maybe you were just lucky. But seeing what you did to them? Impressive."

She took a deliberate step closer, the knife in her hand catching the faint morning light, glinting like a predator's fang.

Her grin widened as she studied me, like a cat playing with a trapped mouse.

"Doesn't change anything, though," she continued, her tone almost playful now. "Strong or not, my mission's the same. I'm still going to kill you."

The words hit me like a slap, but her grin didn't falter. If anything, it grew.

"You should've made this easier," she said, her voice dropping into a whisper that slithered into my ears like poison.

"All you had to do was let me put a blade through your heart before anyone noticed what you were. But no, you had to make a scene. Now it's messy, and I hate messy jobs."

Her casual tone, her grin, the way she was speaking about killing me like it was nothing more than a chore—it made my skin crawl.

"Anna," I said, my voice shaking with disbelief and a hint of anger. "You—you were lying this whole time? All of it? The running, the helping me—everything?"

Her laughter was soft and mocking. "Helping you? Oh, Jayden, you're adorable. You really thought I cared about you?"

She leaned in slightly, her grin taking on a cruel curve. "I don't help people like you. I end them."

Her words were dripping with venom, each one cutting deeper than the last.

My heart was pounding, my mind racing to process the betrayal.

"Why?" I managed, my voice cracking. "Why would you do this? What did I ever do to you?"

Anna tilted her head, her expression shifting into one of mock sympathy.

"Oh, poor, sweet Jayden," she cooed, her voice syrupy and false.

"It's not about what you did. It's about what you are. You're dangerous, unpredictable, and way too powerful for your own good. People like you don't get to live. You're a ticking time bomb, and I'm here to make sure you don't go off."

She raised the knife slightly, its edge catching the light, her grin still firmly in place.

"But don't worry," she added, her tone almost cheerful. "I'll make it quick. I'm not heartless."

Her laughter echoed in the narrow alley, cold and cruel, as she took another step closer.

The weight of her betrayal crushed down on me, the fear and anger twisting into something darker inside me.

And then I felt it again—the power, the raw energy rising to the surface, coiling and twisting like a storm ready to explode.

But Anna didn't stop, her grin unflinching as she moved in for the kill.

I was speechless, my mind racing to comprehend her words.

The shock hit me like a punch to the gut.

Anna had been the one to keep me grounded, the one person I had trusted, and now... now she was going to kill me.

And then, without another word, she pushed the knife forward, just enough to draw a thin line of blood from my throat.

The pain was sharp, immediate. I gasped, feeling the warmth of my blood begin to trickle down my neck.

I could feel the sting, the cold bite of the blade, but it wasn't enough to stop me from moving.

Something inside me snapped.

The power surged once again, wild and uncontrollable.

I could feel it building, coiling in my chest, rising like a beast from the depths.

The same energy that had thrown the cars, that had shattered everything in the parking lot, was coming alive again.

My vision blurred, the world around me dimming, but not in the way I had expected.

My focus sharpened, my thoughts clearing.

I could feel my muscles tightening, the raw energy filling me to the brim.

Every fibre of my being screamed for release.

I reached out, my hands shaking, the world slowing around me, every muscle in my body tensing as if it were about to burst.

A crackling sensation spread through my fingers, like static electricity, and the air around me felt electric—alive.

With a single thought, I could feel the ground beneath me shake, the air around me crackle with energy.

My hands shot forward, faster than I could even process, and before Anna could react, I slammed my palms against her chest.

The force of the impact was enough to send her flying backwards, her feet leaving the ground as she crashed into the alley wall.

The sound of her body hitting the brick was sickening, a dull thud that made my stomach twist in horror.

But I couldn't stop.

The power was too strong, too overwhelming.

It was like a dam had broken inside of me, and all the floodwaters of rage and fear and confusion were rushing to the surface.

I stood there, breathing heavily, my body vibrating with the aftershock of the explosion of energy.

I could hear Anna groaning, struggling to push herself off the ground.

But she didn't get up.

Her limbs twitched, her chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths.

Blood trickled from her mouth, and her body seemed limp—too limp.

Sweat dripped down my forehead, stinging my eyes.

My muscles were aching, tense, but there was an unrelenting fire burning in my chest.

My pulse roared in my ears, my mind whirling.

I had hurt her.

Worse than that—I had almost killed her.

And yet, despite the horror of it all, despite the terror bubbling up in my gut, I felt something else inside of me.

Power.

Control.

Something raw, something untamed—but something undeniably mine.

I took a shaky breath, my hands still glowing faintly from the energy that surged through me.

But then I heard it.

A voice—deep and rumbling—that sent chills down my spine.

"Who would have thought that you'll be able to take down one of the government's superhuman neutralisation agents alone?"

I turned, heart pounding in my chest, and there he stood.

At the entrance of the alley, standing tall and imposing in the weak morning light, was a man I didn't recognize.

He was dressed in a long, dark coat, the collar turned up, hiding his face in shadows.

His figure was framed by the dull grey light spilling from the buildings around us, his presence exuding a certain heaviness, like the air itself thickened in his wake.

My mind raced as I tried to process who this man was, but it didn't matter.

The moment I saw him, I knew.

I knew he was trouble.

His very posture radiated confidence—like he was certain of his control over everything.

"You might want to check on your friend," the man said, voice smooth, almost amused. "But don't bother. She's not going to be getting up anytime soon."

My breath caught in my throat. Anna. Was she...?

I turned to look at her, my eyes desperately searching for any sign of life.

Her chest was still rising and falling, but it was shallow, uneven.

Blood pooled at her side, and her body lay in an unnatural position.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice shaky but forceful.

The man stepped forward, his boots clicking softly on the wet pavement as he approached me, his dark eyes never leaving mine.

His expression was unreadable, but the way his lips curled ever so slightly told me that he wasn't here for a friendly chat.

"My name's not important," he said, his grin widening, revealing a glint of teeth. "What matters is what you're going to do next, Jayden."

I flinched at the sound of my name.

How did he know who I was?

He stopped a few feet away from me, his hands tucked casually into his pockets as if he had all the time in the world.

He studied me with an intensity that made me feel as if he were sizing me up—like I was some kind of puzzle he was about to solve.

"You've got potential," he continued, his voice low and inviting.

"You've got power. But you don't know how to use it. You don't know how to control it. And you're going to need someone to teach you."

I swallowed hard, my mind reeling.

Power?

Control?

I barely understood what had happened to me. What had I done?

"I don't need your help," I said, my voice trembling, but I forced the words out with more force than I felt. "I don't need anyone."

The man chuckled, shaking his head.

"Is that so?" he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Then what do you think you'll do now? Run away? Hide from your power? From the people who will come for you?"

I clenched my fists at my sides.

His words pierced through me—he was right. I couldn't run from this. I couldn't hide from the destruction I had caused.

"You've already seen what happens when you lose control, haven't you?" the man continued, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You've already seen the chaos you can create. The lives you can ruin. So what do you say, Jayden? Want to be a villain?"

His words hit me like a slap to the face.

Villain?

Was that what I was?

"No, I will not become a puppet for you to control!" I forced out as blood slowly spilled out of my mouth. 

The word "villain" lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating.

My body trembled, a mixture of adrenaline, exhaustion, and pain coursing through me.

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, each drop a reminder of how much I had pushed myself.

But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"No," I managed to rasp, my voice raw and defiant. "I will not become a puppet for you to control!"

The man's grin faltered slightly, but his eyes remained sharp, calculating.

I could barely stand, my legs wobbling as though the weight of my own defiance was too much to bear.

The world blurred, my vision tunnelling, the edges dimming.

The ground rushed up to meet me.

Or so I thought.

Strong hands caught me just before I hit the pavement.

His grip was firm but strangely gentle, holding me upright as my knees buckled.

I could feel his presence, towering over me, his aura overwhelming and suffused with power.

"You're stubborn," he muttered, his voice now softer, tinged with an odd mix of irritation and respect. "But I guess that's what makes you interesting."

I tried to speak, to say anything, but my mouth refused to cooperate.

My eyelids grew heavier by the second, and then... I felt it.

A warmth spread through my chest, starting faint but quickly growing into a soft, radiant glow.

My body, battered and broken, began to hum with a strange energy.

It wasn't mine.

This wasn't the chaotic, uncontrollable force I had felt earlier.

This was something different—calming, deliberate, and steady.

The pain ebbed away, little by little, as though invisible hands were stitching my wounds back together.

I caught a faint glimpse of golden light surrounding me, emanating from the man's hands where they gripped my arms.

The light pulsed gently, sinking into my skin, soothing the ache in my muscles and mending the damage I had done to myself.

But even as the pain dulled and my body began to repair itself, the exhaustion was too much.

My head lolled forward, my vision slipping entirely into darkness.

The last thing I heard before everything went silent was the man's voice, low and unreadable.

"Rest, kid. You'll need your strength."

When I came to, it was only briefly, enough to feel the sensation of being laid gently on the ground.

My mind was swimming in a fog, disoriented and heavy, but I caught fleeting moments of clarity.

The man's presence loomed nearby, a steady force in the chaos of my scattered thoughts.

"Rest easy," he murmured, his voice distant and tinged with something I couldn't quite place—amusement, perhaps, or maybe... pity.

I felt his hand leave my shoulder, and the warmth that had been flowing into me faded, leaving behind a strange calmness.

My body no longer screamed in agony, though every muscle was still sore, like a flame that had burned out but left the coals smoldering.

As I drifted back into unconsciousness, faint words floated through my haze: "We'll meet again soon."

The man turned his attention away from my still form, his expression unreadable.

The golden light that had enveloped me faded completely, leaving my body stable, my breathing slow but steady.

Then his gaze shifted to Anna.

She lay crumpled against the alley wall, her chest rising and falling shallowly.

Blood streaked her lips, and her head lolled to one side.

For a moment, the man simply stared, his sharp eyes flicking over her injuries as though calculating whether she was worth the effort.

With a low sigh, he crouched beside her.

"You really messed up, didn't you?" he muttered, shaking his head.

His tone was casual, but there was a subtle edge to it, a faint hint of annoyance. "But I guess you're not entirely useless."

He extended a hand over her, and the faint golden light returned, spilling from his palm in slow, measured waves.

The glow enveloped Anna, sinking into her broken body and knitting her wounds together just as it had done for Jayden.

The bruises faded, the blood dried, and her shallow breathing grew steadier.

The man stood and took a step back, watching as her body slowly regained its strength.

She stirred faintly, her fingers twitching, but she didn't wake.

"Don't get me wrong," he said aloud, his voice low and almost conversational, as though speaking to himself.

"I'm not doing this for you. I just don't feel like dealing with the government breathing down my neck because I let one of their agents die."

He glanced down at her again, his expression hardening.

"And don't think this changes anything," the man muttered, his voice cold as his gaze lingered on Anna's motionless form.

"You come after him again, and you won't be so lucky next time."

With a measured sigh, he turned away from her, crouching down beside Jayden.

The boy was limp, his breathing still slow but steady.

Without hesitation, the man lifted him with practiced ease, draping the unconscious figure over his shoulder as though he weighed nothing.

At the edge of the alley, he paused, glancing back at Anna.

Her body lay crumpled where he'd left her, her chest rising and falling rhythmically now that her injuries had been healed.

"You get to live," he muttered, his tone devoid of sympathy. "Consider it a warning. Stay out of this, or next time, I won't bother saving you."

The man adjusted Jayden's weight on his shoulder, his coat swirling around him as he stepped into the morning light.

He glanced up at the pale sky, a faint smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

"Interesting times ahead," he mused to himself, his voice low and tinged with something unreadable. "Very interesting indeed."

Without another word, he vanished into the maze of streets, leaving Anna alone in the silent alley, the faint warmth of his healing light still lingering in the air.