So... hey guys! This is gonna be a collection of one shots, thrown out story ideas, and drabbles circling around the ghosts of the Preeminent.
Lots of hurt/comfort, tradgey and angst, be warned.
Breathe. In, and out.
That's all the North Wind thought, as she was running. She was in her mortal form, a dangerous form to be in, for she was after her. The North Wind only prayed to her father, Uranus, the sky, to protect her.
"Give me the child," a voice whispered. The North Wind looked to the baby in her arms, only two years old, with beautiful grey eyes and midnight black hair. Identical to her. The little boy wasn't crying, for he never did, but a frown was on his face as he looked up with sparkling eyes at the wind element. He knew something bad was happening, but too innocent to know what.
North Wind held the child tighter, as a woman dressed in black and greens appeared. She had sickly green hair and blood-red eyes that stared at the child.
"You know as well as I your child will only bestow misfortune. Let me take him so the mortal world stays safe." North Wind knew it was true. She carried the souls of the dead to the afterlife, along with her three brothers. The child would then be cursed with the ability to seek out those close to death. But... he derseved a life. Not with her.
North Wind held the child to her chest, her long black hair almost concealing him. "Never, you shall not lay a finger on him."
The woman laughed, spreading her arms. "I am a Realm, Wind. I am higher than you, and will get my way! The Fates already despise you Mighty Ones, so I am truly helping you!"
North Wind's eyes narrowed as she glared. "My father is the sky, he has much more power than you!" She lifted her head. "I am the wind that blows in every Realm. You are no more higher than me than a measly worm."
The woman laughed as she stepped closer. Immediately, a greenish tentacle whipped out of her cloak and grabbed the child. North Wind pulled back. "No!" She cried, as a heavy wind knocked the woman down. Immediately, it formed into a man with ice in his hair, a long blue robe, and piercing blue eyes.
"South," North Wind gasped. Her younger brother only nodded in response.
"Leave the child alone, Preeminent."
Said Realm in question only smiled. "Your child is already marked as mine, my job is done." The Preeminent vanished.
North Wind and South Wind stared at the child in horror. A green streak was formed on the right side of his hair. North Wind petted her child, tears forming in her eyes.
"Oh, my baby I'm sorry. I'm sorry Tomorrow."
Alone, in a cell in Kryptarian Prison, a boy, seeming eight years old, sat in a bare cell. He had a long white hospital robe on and his long hair tied back in a ponytail.
Two guards were watching him, keeping an eye on him at all times. But it wasn't needed, for all the boy did was draw random patterns on the wall with his finger. Occasionally, he would murmur something nonsensical, but he was silent for most of the time.
"Hurts. Pain. Dark," he muttered sadly, moving his finger away from the wall to curl up. "Hurts. Alone. Mommy help!"
There was a woman that walked past the guards, opening the door and entering the cell. She had her hair in a tight bun and holding a clipboard with a soft smile on her face. "Morro... it's lunchtime," she said slowly. She looked at the child carefully. He didn't like sudden movements and many people. Usually, there was one person, preferably female as they found out, to guide him through daily routines.
Morro didn't face her. "Dark. Scary. Cold. Cold. Ice Cream..." he gave a short laugh at himself, before moving to the wall and drawing another pattern with his fingertip.
The woman gave a sad smile. The child was only eight, the poor thing, and he was already spitting out nonsense like some lunatic. And he was a tiny little thing, short for his age and probably only reaching her stomach. "If you come with us and eat lunch, we can possibly give you a marker so you can really draw."
That got Morro's attention. He turned to face the woman, crouched on his feet with his white hospital robe covering his feet. He looked at the lady slowly. "Hurts. Dark. Mommy." Morro pointed to the lady. "You?"
"I'm Miss Beth. I'm going to be your new helper, okay sweetie?" She said nicely. She gave another sad smile. "I'm sorry, but your mom's not here."
Morro's expression suddenly changed from innocent to angry. "Here!" He cried. Miss Beth realized she was stepping into sensitive territory, so she smiled again.
"Okay sweetie, aren't you hungry? Let's have some lunch okay?" He tentatively reached out a hand to grasp hers like a normal child would to their mother, and Miss Beth wondered if something did happen to his. Morro was found on the streets screaming out random words, and passers recognized him as one of the ghosts that had attacked Stixx not to long ago. He was immediately taken to the prison, but when the judge saw an eight-year-old boy with mental instability, he let the child have better standards and help.
Morro walked with Miss Beth to the lunchroom, as the cafeteria workers watched him sit down. Morro looked nervously around at the other people.
A man in a crisp suit carried the tray for him, as Miss Beth held her clipboard. She was to mark down any behavior he showed.
The second Morro saw what was on the plate, carrots, peas, and a sort of pudding, he grabbed a fistful of the peas and threw them far away from him. He quickly repeated the process until the man made him stop. Morro looked at him with scared eyes, then traveled to his pocket where he had multiple pens. Morro suddenly pounded his tiny fists into the man, making him fall back as he grabbed on of the pens and broke it into pieces.
The cafeteria workers quickly restrained him as one forced him into a straight-jacket. Miss Beth looked at the pen. It was green. As was the peas. She quickly made as assumtion and wrote down something.
Trigger color: Green?
The second Morro didn't see any green, he acted perfectly normal. One of the workers spoon-fed him, and he obeyed without protest. However, Miss Beth saw his arms twitching from the straight-jacket.
Doesn't like being restrained.
Morro quickly finished up the food, and looked quizzically over at Miss Beth. His face asked a silent question: Did I do okay?
Her heart broke at the poor child. "Okay, Morro. You did good. Just don't hurt anyone next time, okay?"
"Green," he protested quietly. "Green bad. Hate green. Make hurt. No green!"
Miss Beth nodded sympathetically. "Okay Morro. No green. I promise."
Morro's eyes met her's. "Dark. Scary. Green." He shivered as she carefully took off the straight-jacket. He held out his hand. "Draw?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.
Miss Beth shook her head. "I don't have anything on me right at the moment. I'll get one."
The boy's lips turned down as his eyes flashed. "Promise! You promise! Hate you! Break promise! Bad!" He screeched, continuing to punch her with his fists. It hurt, but not by very much. Miss Beth scooped him up, and he eventually quieted. "You promised..." he sniffed. "You promised you'd get me something to draw."
Miss Beth was surprised he actually said a coherent sentence for once, but Morro wrapped his arms around her. "Bailey..." he said.
"No, I'm Beth. Not Bailey," she corrected.
Morro pulled back, staring at her. His hands moved to her bun, which he carefully undid. She offered no resistance as he grabbed it to stare at it. He then looked at her eyes. Morro frowned sadly. "Not Bailey."
Miss Beth took him to his cell—room, as she should call it—and let him sit.
Morro immediately sat next to the wall, leaning his head against the cold surface and drawing patterns. He started reciting his mantra of Dark, Scary, Hurt.
Miss Beth wrote it down immediately, before he switched.
"Bailey, Seth, Wyatt, Grant."