Kane
I walked down the hall, flanked by two guys in ass-tro suits, think astronauts but with way worse vibes. I figured they were marching us toward some kinda arena. Gladiator shit. High-stakes battle. Blood, screaming, slow-mo zoom-ins.
Nope.
They split me and Mr. Inconvenient up and tossed us in separate rooms like bad kids at daycare. My room was about as cozy as a morgue. Metal walls. Sterile air. And a shiny-ass tray of tools just sitting there like, Hi, we're your worst day.
Also? A jar of Nightmare Fuel. Yep. Same glowing sludge the zealots were guzzling back at the bar. Fun stuff.
"So, uh... what's the game plan here?" I asked the room, aiming for 'casually curious' but probably landing somewhere closer to 'sleepy hostage with no filter.'
A monitor on the wall lit up. A voice crackled through like a discount Bond villain. "You know what you're doing here."
"Mm," I said, squinting. "Lemme guess. You wanna see what happens when we crank our powers to eleven without going neon?"
"Yes," the voice said. "Exactly."
"Cool cool cool. And just wondering, why? Like, what's your endgame? What if we just... flip out and kill everyone for kidnapping us?"
The voice chuckled. "You're still wearing the collars. Step out of line, and boom."
"Right. Forgot about the exploding dog collars. Classy."
I was already tired. The kind of tired that seeps into your bones. The kind that doesn't sleep off.
Then one of the suits stepped forward, shoved a cup of Nightmare Fuel into my hand, and went, "Drink!"
So I drank.
And pang! it hit.
At first, it was light. Then it was ten migraines fist-fighting each other in my skull. Then nothing.
No neon. No burst of rage. No power. Just... blankness.
I gasped for air, waiting for something anything to happen.
One of the suits muttered, "Uh... this hasn't happened before."
"Interesting," said a silhouetted voice from the monitor. Big Boss Vibes.
"Interesting," I repeated, faking enthusiasm like a dead-eyed game show host.
Another suit chimed in, tapping a tablet. "According to our footage, he injected himself with Nightmare Fuel back in the bar. That might've made it permanent. We think he's... stuck in that state. Could be worth testing."
"Hmmm... weird," said the boss.
Weird. That was the word he went with. Not dangerous. Not fascinating. Just weird. Cool.
"Alright then," the boss said. "Get to it."
Pft!—something hissed.
I felt the sting of a tranquilizer dart in my neck.
Then darkness.
I woke up cold and strapped to a metal table. Not like metaphorically cold—like literal, shrinkage-level cold. My back was pressed against something that felt like Satan's personal kitchen counter. Stainless steel and misery.
"Anybody home?" I yelled out, because why not? Felt appropriate for the level of discomfort. Plus, if ghosts were real, now would be their prime haunting window.
A guy walked in. Looked like a bodybuilder trying to pass his medical exam through sheer deltoid intimidation. Wearing a lab coat that screamed, I never went to med school but I do have experience pretending to be one in a porn video.
"Well shit," I muttered, "This is kinky. You doing a sexy nurse thing? Should I be flattered or filing a lawsuit?"
He didn't laugh. Bastard.
"During your slumber," he said like I was Sleeping Fucking Beauty, "we tried the gentle method. Stress tests. Induced nightmares. Simulated drownings. Even made you listen to someone explain NFTs."
"Jesus," I coughed. "You monsters."
He swiped something on his tablet. "Unfortunately... nothing. No reaction. No powers. No glow. Just a guy with unresolved trauma and a caffeine deficiency."
"Sounds like every Twitch streamer I know."
He grinned. I hated that. Nothing worse than a guy about to violate your nervous system with needles and then smile like you just made a dad joke.
"So now," he said, setting the tablet down and pulling on latex gloves, "we're trying it while you're awake. Maybe fear unlocks something."
"Right, because nothing screams 'potential' like torturing a dude who's already halfway to being a ghost emotionally."
Then I felt it.
A sharp sting in my right arm. I looked over. A fat-ass tube was shoved into my vein, pumping in... something. Probably more nightmare fuel. Or bleach. Honestly, wouldn't be surprised either way.
"Holy shit—okay, that hurts like a bitch," I said, gritting my teeth. "What is that? Battery acid? Sadness? Mountain Dew but Red?"
The doctor didn't answer. He just noted something on his tablet. I flinched as the pain flared up again, this time crawling up my spine like regret.
The lights in the room flickered. Not because of me, probably just a shitty building, but I pretended it was me. Made me feel cooler.
Then I started laughing.
Not on purpose. Just one of those chemically-induced, I've-lost-my-mind kinda laughs. "Oh man. This is what peak performance looks like, huh?" I said between coughs. "A man in restraints, high on trauma juice, cracking jokes to distract himself from the fact he's a lab rat with a sarcastic God complex."
The bodybuilder-doctor looked... curious. Or maybe just confused. Hard to tell when someone's face is 70% muscle.
"Huh," he said, checking my vitals. "Heart rate's up. Brain activity's... erratic."
" Erratic is my brand," I wheezed. "Slap that on my tombstone. Here lies Kane. Had a weird heartbeat and a worse personality."
Then the room got quiet. Like, dangerously quiet. I felt like something was waiting. Not a person. Not a voice. Something internal. Like something in me was watching me.
"You feel that?" I asked.
He looked at me.
"No," he said slowly. "What do you feel?"
I blinked. Looked down at my arms. My veins weren't glowing... but they were twitching. Like static was crawling under my skin.
I swallowed. "Is this the part where I explode, or...?"
Before he could answer, something snapped.
Not a bone. Not a sound. A feeling. Like something inside me just woke up, pissed off and hungry, like it missed breakfast and also hates humanity.
"Oh great," I mumbled. "Now I'm either unlocking my powers… or developing a seizure. Place your bets, folks."
The room started to tilt. Or maybe that was just my head. Either way, shit was about to get weird.