#oc todd

        Todd felt filth seep through his clothing and creep towards his skin as he lay on the murky cobblestoned floor. Blackness surrounded him, and yet he could make out a shadowy figure looming over him. A passing thought chastised about the frequency at which he had been waking up in a disoriented fog in unknown alleys. His thoughts awoke before his defense mechanisms, which usually guarded against all forms of self-reflection. His vision swam in an inky palette as he remembered the first time he had woken up in a dingy backstreet like this one.  

         He had been found about six months ago, the life nearly drained out of him, in a similar location and under similar circumstances. Regrettably, that was his first memory. The Organization told him that he had been a victim of a gruesome crime, the culprit of which had escaped and was likely to remain forever unpunished. It was like he had gone to sleep and woken up in another world, another body, another mind.

         His empty head was opportune for packing, and he lapped up his saviour’s vitriolic ideals like a sponge; taking up the helm as The Organization’s soldier. They told him that his abilities seemed to have stemmed from the loss of his memories. He had been forced to quickly adapt to a world that he no longer remembered, and his mind had gone into a frantic overdrive, creating neural pathways favouring adaptation through sight. He could create these pathways at will; by seeing an action done. That action could be one of defense, offense or jarring cruelty, either way his empty mind screamed for content. To be filled. But no matter how much The Organization crammed into it, a feeling of emptiness remained buried inside of him.

         The shadow of the woman who had knocked him senseless flickered against the stony walls that surrounded them. Her eyes were ablaze as she knelt in front of him, pulling him up by his collar and bringing him to eye level. A fire erupted in the muscles of his neck as she pulled and he groaned. Looks like those kids have someone looking out for them after all, he thought as he simmered a responding glare.

         “If I ever catch you skulking around this neighbourhood again, I’ll snap your neck instead of spraining it,” she said.

         A chill ran through him and he felt as if he were suddenly freefalling though a clear blue sky. Feelings of disassociation enveloped him and his body relaxed. The woman abruptly dropped him, and he slammed back onto the wet cobblestones, barely noticing the flow of pain streaming into his head and neck.

         “What’s the matter with you,” she said.

         He glanced languidly into her bright, gray eyes. The starlight glimmered on the silver strands of her hair as she continued to speak. But hearing her voice was like staring into the sun, and he closed his eyes as he ignored her gibbering and assessed his internal state.

         He felt at ease, for the first time that he could remember. That empty feeling in his head had been appeased and permeated with her. He felt sated; with a sense that he had completed a yearnful goal that he hadn’t known existed. That didn’t exist. He felt like he could rest for the first time in six months. This. . . this isn’t possible. Why would I feel this way . . .why would she. . . ?

         His thoughts were interrupted by a shocking pain in his side. She had kicked him. Hard.

         “Are you listening to me scum? You’re going to leave those kids alone or I’m going to make you wish you were never born? Got me?”

         When he didn’t answer she scoffed and turned towards the nape of the alley.

         “Pathetic.”

         She began to walk away.

         “Wait -” he muttered. It was difficult and painful to talk. He paused to catch his breath; straining to sit up as lightning flashed from his chest to his neck, obscuring his vision with dancing lights.

         She faltered in her step when he spoke, facing away from him he saw her posture soften, for a moment, then stiffen.

         She stood a few feet away from him, her expression masked. She did not bother to look at him as she bid him farewell.

         “If I ever see you again. I’m going to kill you.”

         And she was gone.

         Blinding light continued to spiral across his vision and he let himself fall backwards onto the ground. As the white light faded from his eyes the familiar darkness sunk back in. That’s what happens when you stare too long at the sun. He felt cold and achingly tired.

         He had heard whispers about people with frightening psychic powers while he was a part of The Organization. Physically gifted people, like Todd, were separated from those with mental abilities. As he lay on the moldy stone floor, he was able to rationalize what had happened. What kind of a person would inject themselves into my mind and make me. . . ?

        He stubbornly refused to put his emotions into words, but they were undeniable. Love. He was in love with her - against his will. Although he reasoned that this woman had his former target’s best interests in mind, he could hardly call her a hero after what she had done to him.

         All he could do was hope that with distance, her effect on him would diminish. That did not turn out to be the case. The more time that passed, the more fervently he craved her. Her power and presence in his mind was despicable. He was left with a love for her that could only be countered with hatred. The stronger his feelings became as time went on, the more he hated her for the cruel dominance she held over his affections.

I’d rather go back to being empty. But that wasn’t possible. The sun had risen.