Chapter #6He catches up with you by: Unknown You don't even try to run. And it wasn't because your legs were chained to the floor out of fear of the gargantuan mass of muscle hurling towards you, but because you frankly don't even care. You have been imbued with the power to travel through time, twist dimensions, and warp the fabric of reality itself. Why should you even be afraid of some physical muscle?
You turn back around and peer down on the Eastern European man repeating Turkish curse words over and over again as he tosses his heels across the stained wooden floor. He smirks, noticing that you have yet to move from the spot. Thinking this will be an easy catch, he quickly springs to his feet and lurches forward, spit escaping from his mouth as he lets out a battle cry. His hand is just about to reach your forehand and, you imagine, crush your head like a pomegranate, before you begin to concentrate and...
The man suddenly begins to shrink. He lets loose a large, angry yelp, noticing that his arms and legs begin to dissolve into a white slime, the pungent smell revealing the fact that it is nothing other than semen. His body begins to turn in a pink, resin-like material as he continues to shrink even further.
"NOOOO..." is the last thing to echo out of his mouth as it is permanently sealed into an O-shape figure, a pink resin tongue lolling out of it. A pink doll rests among several puddles of semen. The doll was missing its limbs, only its body and torso were present, having been left with an open hole only at the mouth end. His high-bridged nose and face had been stretched ungracefully, his cheeks sucked inward and his tongue and lips protruding. These features made it seem like the doll's only purpose in life was to suck dick. A fellahole - fellatio onahole.
"Whoa..." you say as you pick up what seems to be a lifeless doll in your hand and squeeze it, fingers pushing into its soft features. You cannot believe what just happened. You originally intended to stop his movements, to make him inanimate. You certainly did not intend for... this. Perhaps your subconsciousness had affected your reality warping, and the result turned out to be a sex toy to fill your horny teenage needs?
"What the hell..." The Broker mutters, staring in awe as he backs off. "Is that... transmutation...? No, that has limits... reality warping!?"
"Uh, hey," you awkwardly gesture, showing him the doll in your hand, "Sorry about your... friend here. I didn't really mean for this to happen. I think I can fix this if you want. Probably."
"N-no, no, no," he stammers, quickly running up to you and snatching the doll, thrusting it into his pocket. "Playing around with reality too much will attract them."
You stare dumbly at him.
"You know. Them! The Monitors of Reality, Kid, how did you get these powers without being aware of them, and more importantly, not being devoured within the first few hours?" He trods over to his desk, pulling an enormous bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses out of a small blue ring box. Noticing your stunned look, he smirks and whispers, "Spatial manipulation, son."
"Anyway, what's your story? I don't really hold any ill will towards other universal power users. We already have it hard enough as it is. Here." He thrusts a glass that is filled to the brim with a noxious smelling brown liquid, alcohol practically evaporating right before your very eyes. "Don't worry, it's not poisonous. Just a little oversaturated."
"Well, uh, it's kind of weird. I don't really know what's going on anyway. I mean, you gave me these like a minute ago," you say, tipping over the brown liquid into your mouth. You are pleasantly surprised that not only does it go down well in this dreary atmosphere, but the taste is quite refined as well. It doesn't even give you the shivers. Magic, you think.
"Oh... oh fuck. I get it now. You probably got them from an alternate self of mine. And since I don't throw around these big powers willy nilly, you most likely served as a distraction to run away. What a cruel man," he sighs, gazing at you, the irony lost on him. "Anyway..."
Before he had the chance to continue...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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