A rare phenomenon occurred: The Voice and Cadell’s thoughts intertwined, almost becoming one.

The trigger was a mystery but whenever it happened, both parties agreed on the words wholeheartedly. Dr Lunetta once theorized it was a glimpse of Cadell’s “real” personality, believing the Voice was a second personality.

But merely the idea of Cadell’s name in the same sentence as the Voice pissed him off. No matter what anyone told him, the Voice was a thing. It wasn’t some intricate delusion of some mental disorder. That thing was not him and it would never be him. The belief was the foundation of his identity and allowed him to become Psycho the Superhero.

He burst from a portal in the night sky, eyes fiercely glowing purple, and chased after a crimson mist he’d chased after a thousand times before. The visual hallucination wasn’t too strong, and he’d certainly seen worse, but somehow he felt eighteen again. As seconds passed by, confidence developed from years of experience and lessons learned crumbled. Not a shred of passion or vigour seemed to matter in the face of the phobia. It felt as if he was back to day one of vigilantism, replaying a section of his life on insane difficulty.

By the time Cadell reached the source of the mist, every muscle twitched. Buckets of sweat covered his body as he hunched over, fighting to measure his breathing.

It was inevitable. You knew the time would come. This is the real deal but you must-

Move and gather courage. There’s no way. There’s no way I’m conjuring that thing. I’ve gotta act without thinking. I’m already a master at-

Ignoring me. Ignoring the cluster headaches. Ignoring your true nature. So stop thinking and become Psycho the-

Superhero! Cleanse!

Cleanse!

Cleanse!

Cleanse!

A hand grabbed Cadell’s shoulder. He jolted.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked.

“Oh... You’re still here. Great.”

“You don’t look so good, Psycho sir! Should we stop here, Psycho, sir!”

“What makes you say that?” Cadell retorted, surprised he hadn’t vomited yet. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. You stopped portalling. Are we waiting for something?”

Cadell looked around, only just realising his surroundings. An empty alleyway.

“No. We’re here.”

As if on cue, heels rapidly clicked on concrete. A woman briskly walked past them in the dimly lit alley and pretended the two costumed vigilantes didn’t exist. A few seconds passed by.

“I don’t get it,” Hazel said. “Where’s the problem?”

Cadell couldn’t respond but pointed. A hooded figure walked down the alley. A visual hallucination painted his clothing crimson, matching the sky. His intentions were clear.

Before the individual could pass by, Cadell blocked his path. He gathered composure, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“Go back home and I’ll pretend I never saw this.”

Underneath the hood revealed a serial killer type Cadell had seen countless times before, which made his growing terror all the more frustrating. The man was of caucasian descent, glaring with small beady eyes, and reeking of cigarette smoke. Criminals typically got scared when they bumped into Psycho but this man was in the minority. Painfully, what caused the man to be fearless was the very thing Cadell needed-- tunnel vision and ignorance.

“I’m busy,” the man muttered. “Get out of my way.”

“Go home,” Cadell repeated, though the words were softer.

The man frowned. “There must be a misunderstanding. I wanted to make sure my friend got home safely. Obviously, it’s quite late. She was quite drunk. I was just worried.”

Hazel scoffed. “Then just leave. We’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“She betrayed me…” the man muttered, taking out a knife hidden under his jeans.

Cadell shit himself.

Not literally but metaphorically. Although that would have been a sight to see. Only terror occupied his mind which instantly took him captive to paralysis. He thanked the heavens that he didn’t scream like one of his many skydiving victims.

“I thought we were meant to be together,” the man continued. “For so long, she pretended to be an angel. For so long, I thought she loved me. But she… But she...”

Tears welled in the man's eyes and ocean blue blended with the crimson.

“She betrayed me!” the man roared “Get out of my way!” He lunged towards Cadell.

Squelch.

Hazel’s arm whipped out in the air, catching the man’s hand. The knife stopped between her fingers but grazed a layer of skin. Blood immediately erupted, leaking towards her palm

The man tried pulling the knife out of her grip. It didn’t budge. The stabber couldn’t see Cadell’s face because of the Psycho mask though they still managed to exchange a look. Both of their lips contorted, both of their eyes squinted and both of their heads slightly tilted to one side. It was a look that very clearly said, “NANI!”

Hazel’s left leg crashed into the man’s temple and even when he was on the ground unconscious, she kept launching kicks into his rib cage. The gratuitous violence brought Cadell out of his phobia state.

“Never in your life...” Hazel kicked the man. “Even think about…” Hazel kicked the man again. “Psycho again!”

Ignoring the Voice’s pleas to join in, Cadell pulled Hazel back. “Jeez, calm down.”

Hazel stopped. Her head slowly turned but her body remained perfectly still. It reminded Cadell of an owl.

“No,” she said. “No, no, no, no, no. Why the fuck did I just save you? Haven’t you been doing this for years? You didn’t even move. Your legs were shaking!”

“I had it sorted, and I have a phobia of knives.” Cadell whispered the last bit.

Hazel moved closer. “I didn’t hear you. Say that again.”

“Phobia,” Cadell whispered again. His cheeks flushed. “Knives.”

“I honestly can’t hear you. Speak up please.”

“I have a phobia of knives!”

“Oh…” Hazel said, wiggling bloody fingers. “That’s horrible. I guess that explains the inactivity."

There was an awkward silence.

"Anywho, am I part of the team now?”