A dream gets lost before it can even be remembered, leaving Seth with nothing as his eyes are shot open to the deep thud ringing his ears. What it was and what it could mean try to coerce him awake, as his still sleepily eyes blink awake. His room is dim, the curtains still closed and morning light barely eking through them. Those questioning thoughts soon lose their strength as he realizes a more pressing concern.

'It's too early to wake up.' Especially during summer break.

He pulls his head back over on his pillow, trying to regain his lost comfort. But before he can drift back to sleep, he realizes something else.

'Its... so quiet.'

He's always been woken up by his parents’ morning routines, to his extreme annoyance. But now... it is way too quiet.

He gets up and out of bed, still half asleep and oblivious to his scenery. His room little more than a blur as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Shuffling ahead, he groggily kicks his action figures aside, most still stanced up to fight whatever villain he sees on TV next. Out of muscle memory, he grabs the windbreaker he always leaves in the same place, draped over his chair, and puts it on over the thick comfy pajamas. All the while heading toward the door to the hall.

“Mom? Dad?” Nothing but continued silence.

He pokes his head into their bedroom, but the bed is made and the curtains drawn. His mom always opens them first thing in the morning, to everyone’s begrudgement. The bathroom door is open, but the light is off so they aren’t in there either. The study/office is empty, but his dad always told him that productivity was pointless this early. He always repeated it like Seth would forget it or something. But still, why is it so quiet? Surely there would be some noise, his mom making breakfast and clinking dishes, his dad making coffee from their overused maker, either of them talking, but… there’s nothing. Growing more concerned, he heads to the stairs, winding down past family photos full of people he… he could never really make out for some reason.

Making it to the foyer, his bare feet step into the chilling morning air pooling on the floor. He turns, knowing full well the front door is open. But seeing it now is more anxiety inducing then it should be. It’s fully ajar, dim light illuminating the storage closet door that’s directly opposite. And it is quiet, way too quiet. No birds, no wind, not even an early commuter or lawn mower. It’s like the world outside is standing still… waiting for him. Seth inches ever forward to the door frame, heart beats louder in his ears than they should be.

The scene awaiting him is one of supreme stillness. His overly friendly neighborhood at a standstill. His parents are standing apart, his mother halfway up the pathway to the door with her hand covering her mouth, his father all the way at the sidewalk frozen with tension. Both stare straight ahead, as does everyone else in this street. Mr. Thomas next door is at the sidewalk too, as is the whole Maltsburger family on the other side. Mrs. Buchanan is leaning out her bedroom window, while Mr. and Mrs. Peirce are stopped halfway into their car on their way to work. Every one of them stares out toward the center of town, and the slowly rising plume of black smoke over it.

“Mom!?”

As if the spell over them had been lifted, both parents turn at this call. allowing Seth to see their surprise and worry… in spite of the blur that took hold of their faces. He's always had trouble making them out. But he still knows it’s them, the red scarf around his mother’s neck an ever bright reminder. The one she would always wrap around him when he gets cold. So it’s all he can truly see… as it suddenly starts billowing toward him.

A strange noise comes from down the street and both parents turn again in time to see Mr. Farrow at the end of the street lurch away before-*zzzzZAP*. A bolt, no a tendril of electricity strikes him from around the corner. He’s enveloped by blinding light as two more arcs launch out from him, one striking the O’Crowly house on the left through a window, the right hitting Ms. Mable on her front porch. All this occurring within a half second, but slowed down by a grim ever increasing perception. One driven on by Seth’s sinking heart. Compounding as his parents turn back around in panic and… focus. As if his mind finally caught and cleared away the fuzz that had been clouding his reality. As he sees something he knew, but never could truly see before.

His father’s light brown hair and green eyes burning toward him as he pivots and reaches out for his family.

“RUN!!!”

His mother reaching for him instinctively, dark brown hair flowing behind her and shared hazel eyes staring out as if this is the last time she will see her son. All the while the tendrils keep stretching further.

The left striking the Peirces, their car shattering between them, while the right slams into Mrs. Buchanan, blowing out her windows. The left hits Mr. Thomas as he recoils from the first shock, almost prone and pleading for his life. The right chaining through the Maltsburgers on the other side. Then it splits again… and one tendril slams his father in the side. The collective flashes wash out Seth’s vision and as the arc impacts as if it were a wanton train. Before his dad can even make a step. It flashes out, whiting out the world, and chains toward his mother. Light halos around her as the tendril strikes her in the back, causing her to bend inadvertently upward, forcing her teared up eyes away as her fleeting face disappears in the blinding light enveloping her.

Through all of this Seth is stuck completely still, even as his adrenaline churns and his mind realizes what was occurring, even as the tendril leaves his mother’s blown out and indistinguishable form and stretches out toward him. He can't move, he can’t breathe. Only watch as it grows slower in his perception, as grim inevitability burns the world into his brain, trying to keep it like it never could before. As it comes closer and closer until…

The world starts falling away, no blinding heat, no feeling of impact. Just a total loss of sensory input, and a darkness eating away at the edges of his sight. A darkness encroaching upon his mind, blotting out what it can reach, tearing through it without regard or care. What little he had. The candy and toys his neighbors used to give him to make him happy, the dead animals he used to cower from at the edge of the forest, the annoying way his mom forced him up in the morning. Every emotion, every tiny memory, ripping away like haphazard threading. Defiant holds try to grip but they keep fading away, the blurry fuzz he lives in filling every void in that blotting path. Leaving him nothing… but their absence. Their sucking void, their knowing loss, their known destroyer. And so Seth was left with the one thing that exuded from that swallowing abyss that was taking everything away. The burning, blinding, all-consuming-

A sudden new light flares, countering the darkness at the edges of his vision, overshadowing everything trying to take from him. From across town, streaking as if it had no care for physics or grim perception, a massive bolt of lightning tearing over rooftops and blurring out the sky. As if aimed with purpose or wanton disregard, with direction or condemnation, it flies… straight toward Seth. It crashes into him with force enough to slam the world back to what it once was. Colliding with power enough to blow both the front door and the closet door off their hinges. Both smashing through the storage closet like a freak hurricane, sending everything falling from its shelf or rack. An avalanche of disuse buries him in a mountain of coats and cleaning equipment.

The world starts to refade away, more from concussion than existential loss. But before his consciousness could drift away… Seth could see the dim light of the outside finally through with its moment of blinding light. A pinhole in the mountain of clear blue sky, fading away. Diminishing more and more before…

…

Hey there MyMixTapeHasAWordCount here! If you're reading this anywhere other than (https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/50505/rage-crisis-consequence-superhero-action-tragedy), WHY!?!

Sites like the one you're reading on charge for reads after a certain amount so you'll never get the full experience there. Meanwhile, the book you're reading is literally FREE!!!

But hey if you want to waste money on free stuff than why not donate that money to the person who actually wrote the book you're reading. There's a Paypal button at the bottom of the page... the real one on RoyalRoad not the one that skimmed by book.

Just read the real thing! Ad Over!!

“*Hassshh*…jish…xish…xing…xike…wake…WAKE UP!!”

Seth shot awake again, like it was the first time he'd ever had, but his surprise was stifled by a weight pressing against him. The clothes were still in place, nothing had moved and the light outside remained shining through its upward pinhole, though shifted from the dim blue of dawn to the burnt orange of approaching dusk. He moved to free himself, but his body refused to budge. Not from the weight of the coats but from the weight of itself. The weight pressing him down was his own. So sapped and weak, his body couldn’t free itself from a few layers of clothing, though the vacuum on his foot really wasn’t helping.

But, oddly, this weight was comforting. Surrounded by soft clothes, given a reason to stay put, and no energy to expend, Seth began to drift back to sleep again. Back the rest he was denied… before. But as soon as he sunk his head down, he regretted it. For every coat and jacket and forgotten piece of clothing in this closet was hiding something. A hanger.

As soon as his head sunk in he felt the cold metal poke spring him out of his drift, and bring attention to all the other hangers in this mountainous pile. One was hooked around his jacket sleeve, one was poking him in the ribs, a further two were hooking his pajama pants, and finally one threatened his face if he were to ever rise out of this pincushion of a cradle.

Trapped, tired, and barely able to… to remember what happened.

‘What did happen?’

He remembered getting out of bed and seeing his parents but… it felt jumbled. Like he’d never remembered stuff before. He tried again, but all he saw almost literal static, heard words he… he couldn’t understand, and…

“*Haassh*…ecsh…ecoutez…liutez…listen…LISTEN!!”

Out of the mental fuzz came a voice, one he could understand. He looked around his hand-me-down tomb but saw no source.

“Lisshh…Listen!”

He looked again toward the opening, fruitlessly searching for where the sound was coming from.

“llllisten…to…Me!!”

At this, Seth’s head felt as if it were being held in place. His eyes defocused, as if trying to see someone close up, but there was nothing there.

“ssssSorry, you were scaring us a little.”

The voice, clearer and softer, spoke to try and calm him. It sounded jaded, guilty, but still sincere.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t here to hurt you.”

The voice was low, almost inaudible, but then again Seth couldn’t hear anything else.

“h…”

He tried to ask who they were but… he couldn’t speak. It was like he knew what to say but couldn’t remember how to say it.

“*hissshh*…Oh, that’s uh… complicated.”

The voice responded, not to Seth’s failed words but his thoughts of them.

“Oh yeah... sorry about your uh *hhissh*… voice. We had to… borrow it… so we could learn to speak to you. Don’t worry, we can give it back to you. It… just might be a while. Each of us needs to use it to learn and there’s a lo- *hsh* *sigh* Just don’t worry… okay.”

Seth’s vision refocused and his head seemed freed from its phantom grasp, but he knew now that the voices weren’t outside, they were in his head.

“Yeah sorry again, we needed someone to take us in, but we weren’t expecting to all be in just one… *hsh*…”

The voice responded to Seth’s thoughts, but also to someone else. He couldn’t understand them, but felt their apprehension… Wait, he could feel a lot of things. Fear, some loathing, guilt… a lot of guilt, and…

“heh… *hish* cat’s… out of the bag? What’s a cat? Anyway, yeah, what you’re feeling is everything we are. Call it a side effect of what happened… *HHHSSshhh* WE are a part of you now, and by extension you are a part of us. It’s just SOME of us are a little concerned what this might cause and want to keep separate. But I think you need someone to talk to, or at least someone to help you understand. And really, we are all in this together so leaving you out of this like some kind of… beast of burden, your sayings are weird, is only going to make things worse for all of us. So, what do you saaa… oops sorry. What do you think?”

Seth thought, but felt as if he wasn’t heard, as if given time and distance to formulate his answer. He could still feel the others, but there was a thin wall in the way, like a curtain. He didn’t know what all of this was, who all these people were, or what they were, but of all the feelings he felt, malice was not one of them. He thought of what they needed from him, but couldn’t feel their greed. He couldn’t remember what happened, but he felt as if these people were affected by it as well, like what was supposed to happen didn’t and now they are all stuck, just like him.

He thought again, this time with focus, this time directing it at the others now seemingly camping out inside his head.

‘o… o… Okay.’

The curtain fell away and he felt the rush of the stifled emotions, but could make out relief predominantly among them.

“Thank you… and here, let’s see if we can’t get you out of this pile.”

At this Seth felt the weight lift from him, in fact he felt lighter than ever. All the tired ache he felt in his muscles fell away. He moved to lift the top off his thrift store sarcophagus, but despite his now revitalized body, he was stopped. More appropriately snagged by the ever present hangers.

“Oh…yeah, here let me get those for… wait why’s that…”

Without warning Seth felt every hair on his body stand on end and could feel the hangers seemingly recede into the cloth walls, but felt not just their absence, but their movement. He could feel every one of them, even the ones not close to him, even the ones that stayed up on their racks. But in the same instant he felt them, they not only receded but shot away at speed. The now ballistic hangers imbedding themselves into the walls of the closet, as did the vacuum pinning his feet. But now free of their cold metal pokes, their annoyance was replaced by stinging screaming pain. One of the hangers hooked his thigh and gashed it on the way out, and Seth could feel the warm wet blood staining his pajamas.

“*HHSH* OKAY!! That wasn’t supposed to happen!!”

Reeling, curling up in pain he threw away the clothes from on top of him and uncovered himself as best he could, all the while the gash in his leg screamed for attention. But he could not vocalize this pain, only managing whimpers and tears. Once his wound was uncovered, Seth could see more blood than he’d ever seen, his grey pajamas now blotched and tattered, and the gash… was gone.

“There… that was close, didn’t think you’d take to the power so… easily.”

The gap in his pajamas, frayed by the hanger, now only showed pale skin. Still covered in loose blood, but no grievous wound that had been demanding attention. Seth was speechless… err…

“Yeah… that’s one of the perks of having the power, healing is easy if you focus at it. It’s just harder to numb the pain. But don’t worry we can teach you…*Hhsh* Yes WE can… *hshshhh* You saw…”

The voice receded as if stepping away from a podium, leaving Seth to poke the now closed wound, probing for any pain but finding none. And leaving him alone to take in the trashed closet proper.

Boxes on shelves had overturned into the pile, the racks were almost barren…and bent away in places. The walls were skewered with hangers, most so deep in that barely a corner stuck out. Seth turned his head around to look behind him and saw more violent hanger-wall interactions, but the back wall was dominated by a massive cracked and caved in crater. The one he made as… as he was shot back. As he was struck by that lightning bolt. As his mind faded away. As he was watching-

‘MOM, DAD!!!’

He shot up, ducking past the vacuum that was slammed into the wall, climbing over the discombobulated doors that leaned every which way, and finally making it to the door frame. Outside the sun was setting, hanging off to his left, still lighting up his street. The burnt orange light had darkened, but he could see… nothing.

Where his neighbors, friends, his parents were stood, there was barely anything even signifying they were ever there… Except for a red scarf caught on his front step, blowing in the wind, blowing away from the sun like it was a stellar wind. His breath caught in his throat, he could barely process what he was seeing, what it meant. In that moment though, Seth saw what had been left.

The wind carried tatters, barely pieces of cloth, along with it. He saw pools of what were once pants and shirts in places the wind couldn’t touch and could see pieces draped and caught on every edge facing the wind. That hot oppressive wind. He turned to face it, and saw no sun, only illuminated clouds. No… plumes of smoke. It was as if the horizon was on fire, and he had a front row seat.