'I hope you know what you're doing, Finch,' Black Ice said, his voice trembling with fear.
'The union will happen right about…Now!' She snapped her fingers and just as she did, both of them were engulfed by the green light that had been between their hands. The light began to waver then it took shape until something else stood in front of the Finch. It had the body structure of a man but it was much taller; at least seven to eight feet in height and its skin and pupils were blood-red. Its head was completely bald and its body was pure muscle. Its feet were bare and the only form of clothing it was wearing was a very tight pair of black trousers which ended just half an inch below the knees.
'How do you feel, Flicker?' The Finch asked it after a moment of silence.
The creature had been busy admiring its hands and body before it set its gaze on her. 'How did you…How did you know that it was me?' Its voice was very deep, hoarse and terrifying and when it spoke, clouds of black smoke gushed out of its mouth like smoke from a teargas canister.
'I always knew you were stronger.' She moved closer to him and stopped a little distance away from him as if she was trying to keep a safe distance from the smoke he was exhaling. 'I believe in your power. Go now, my beautiful creation. From now onwards you shall not be known as the Flicker but as my sword of vengeance, my shield from persecution. Your name shall be "Bradwield Terror", a name that will break the courage of any man that dares to look upon you. A name that will darken the clouds that hang above this city. Destroy the Anonymous! Do not let him save another soul of this wretched city.'
The Bradwield Terror looked deep into the Finch's eyes and with his voice accompanied by a gush of smoke, said, 'Gladly. Consider my debt paid.'
When Brendan was sitting with his two friends, Owen and Simon, they were discussing one topic; magic.
'I just can't get my head around this fellow,' Owen said looking and sounding conflicted, 'He just appears out of the blue, saves people including the most wanted criminal of this city then he murders someone? What's his plan?' He placed his forefinger and his thumb on his chin in a thoughtful way.
'Perhaps he has a reason for what he did,' Brendan answered him.
'Or maybe he's trapped between being a hero and a villain the situation is driving him mad,' Simon suggested.
Brendan was not eating much. He would take one bite of his muffin then continue the conversation, careful not to miss any judgmental question put on debate by his friends. They on the other hand were digging away.
'Oh-oh,' Simon suddenly said.
'Is it Samantha again?' Brendan asked him not bothering to turn around.
'No…It's the girl who accused you of being a racist.'
Brendan shifted on his chair but it was too late. Patricia had arrived and she sat right in front of him between Simon and Owen.
'I think that's our cue to leave,' Simon said pulling Owen away from their table and towards another one.
Patricia stared Brendan hard in the eyes for a while, her eyes looking frozen from behind the thick-framed glasses. Brendan had not realized that he had never looked into her face for longer than a few seconds before because she usually blushed away. But now he saw her, from the braids to the hard cheekbones and slightly slanting mouth. Her prefect's blazer hung tightly onto her thin body frame making it look like part of a business suit and her intentions nothing short of business.
Brendan did not waste time, 'Before you say anything I'd like to say that if I said anything racial that day then I apologize, please forgive me because I honestly did not mean it...'
'Of course you didn't mean it because you didn't say anything racial that day. I was just…'
'Just what?'
'I was just trying to get you to talk to me.'
'Uh..,' he was beyond speechless…and confused.
Patricia half shrugged her shoulders and turned her face aside, but only for a split second. She said, 'Ever since you came to this school I was..,' she turned aside again then brought her face back, '…I was fascinated by how you were picked on by Angus but kept resilient, and when you stood up to Mrs. Cooke in defense of the Anonymous, I was bewildered because I have never seen that side of yours before.'
'So what you're trying to say is…'
'That I…' she cleared her throat with such a calculated speed, a businesslike speed, '…I think you're a pretty cool guy and I was wondering if we…If we could be friends.' She looked deep and seriously into his eyes as before, her face stern with pride. She was after all expecting an answer.