Verse I, the nightmare.

Life has always been humanity racing to their graves, but some of us seem fixated on ensuring others win that race long before we do…

They always said, a teenagers mind is one that should be heavily sedated, a danger to the society they would one day assimilate with. What society were they being raised into, though? It wasn't rebellion or childish antics, when he sat down and took the time to consider the world for what it really was, he saw it. Red eyes and sharp fangs, a dark shadow that pursued him through every dark, dampened corridor of his dreams. He couldn't evade it, he could outrun it, but for how long? Every day it seemed to get closer, only by an inch or two, but it had gotten to the point where he could feel it breathing down his neck. Nightmares were said to be product of a guilty conscious or an overactive imagination, but this wasn't that. No, he'd never been grossed out by gore nor was he such a bad person that he would repent any of his actions. It was just the world. It was pursuing him. And today, somehow he knew, it was going to catch up with him.

Morning. Light shined through shades, burning an unwanted path across his face; immediately bringing him to a groggy conscious state. It had caught up to him in the dream, and when it took a bite out of him, he had awakened. Leere, that was his birth given name by his 'parents.' Two people who dearly loved each other, but as he grew up, through the years, he witnessed fights that were somehow about him, adopted cursing as a secondary language, and finally watched as they both simply spilt apart. He was to live with his mother, whilst his father went along to have another family. With his mother drinking herself into an early grave and ending up a pancake on the highway, he was left alone. Instead of living with his father, he simply fell off the map. Coming to terms that he couldn't live off the street, he got a local job running papers in the AM; he couldn't get a wink of sleep anymore, so it didn't bother him. Getting into school was fairly troublesome, but he managed to fake his 'parents' with two money-bought friends. A good year had finally gone by, he had an low maintenance apartment and an average grade score. Life was always going to be like this, is what the voice in his head always whispered.

So why did he wake up every night? Rubbing an eye, going about his morning activities as if he were on auto-pilot, brushing his teeth, making breakfast, not bothering to change his clothes; he simply wore what he slept in, it saved him time anyway. Jeans, black hoodie. He wasn't special like those freaks on the news, he'd heard rumors about it but was never entirely certain on whether or not they existed. He called them "Sykes" but the literal term for them was, "Psycho-physical mutations" or "Physics." He thought it was a load of shit, of course, hence the terms. The idea of people that could lift objects or bend the elements seemed completely absurd, and as if the government wouldn't be spazzing over the idea of psycho-soldiers. Blowing up countries and people with the mind seemed like their cup of tea, but, he was never into the idea himself. It was just a bad fairytale.

Exiting his home in the rural area, the slums where the poor lived, the stench of oil and lime was always prominent in this area and taking it into his lungs was surprisingly refreshing. Even though he was of age, he didn't have his heart set on getting a license; he had no where to go, after all; only school, and if that wouldn't have just been the same as burning money. Besides, walking, always made him feel normal.

"Yo leere!" The informal call from behind was rewarded with a lazy glance from over his shoulder. "Yer lookin' kinda tired." Novus said, slapping him on the back in a friendly gesture.
"That would probably be because I didn't sleep." A strained and undoubtedly lazy response.
"Ya know, you could always pop sum pills."
"I've tried that, the only way I could sleep with pills is if I overdose."
"Well ya'know, that's always one way to sleep… just, ya'know, ferever."
"Seems to be the answer to all my problems lately." Leere said, the least bit of humor in his tone. The two often went on when it came to these sort of subjects and he knew if he didn't end it, it would've never found an end. Novus was a good guy, always had an upbeat attitude, not afraid to get his fists dirty if the matter called for it, the only thing wrong with him was his speech impediments tended to make him sound a little childish. He heard a rumor that Novus just never talked when he was in grade school, so when he finally started, he tripped over his words often. Guy just didn't like making friends, he guessed. Novus was a little younger and only the tad shorter than Leere. They were complete opposites in terms of personality.

The road down to 'school' was boorish, talking about random subjects, girls, cars, homework, state of the world; including anything they saw. "Sooo, ya gunna join the academy?" Novus questioned, leaning into Leere's sight, he knew he wouldn't have gotten a straight answer without making eye contact. "The academy for the brain studies thing? I think I'll pass, it's just a waste of time anyway." Leere said, the answer made Novus slouch back into position. "Oh c'mon, we cudda been tagether on this. Ya'know there's a rumor that the psychics come from there." The statement itself caught Leere's attention, barely. "Why do you think that?" This time he asked the question, Novus grinned, attempting to hook Leere with story. "S'not a big deal er anythin', just they say that the studies goin' on there result in the phenomenon of telekinesis and stuff, so if they want ta jolt my frontal lobe a few thousand times to get that response, I'm more than willin' ta give 'em my body. Pay's good, too."

After that, the rest of the trip was quiet. Novus parted when they got near the school, to go sign up for donating his body to the scientists with a fetish for brain play. Leere merely gave him a wave, well aware that numerous people die during those trials. As if it didn't make the headline.

Verse II, the awakening.

All his life, he felt something near him. The dreams illustrated it more. He came to call it "The many" now, as it seemed to be composed of all his negative thoughts. Sitting through class, he had hardly moved his pencil during the tests, and was hardly listening in on the teacher. The day was weird, his eye color had changed, or rather the pupil had just encompassed most of his once green eyes. Several times he had been called 'stoned' today, only taking a five minute break to stare at his reflection in the restroom. It was weird, he didn't feel any different, though his mind felt far more occupied with thoughts than it usually was, even for a common teenager, being a mindless drone should've been considered normal. Not now, all he could think about was sadness, sorrow, and pain he had never felt; reactions he had never felt. The touch of a loved one just before they passed away. Hearing the last words that dictated love most couldn't fathom. He'd never felt either, but they were so apparent in his mind he felt as if he could touch them if he reached out.

The one thing that terrified him, though. "The hollow eyes of a killer." Is what the newspaper had called it, about three years ago, some guy committed mass murder up and down the coastline, killing literally anyone he came into contact with; witnesses that actually lived said his eyes were black and hollow, no trace of humanity. He was a monster. Was he turning into that? Just another psychopathic creep that couldn't handle his own emotions? A blemish on society?

Halfway through a boring lecture, the teacher gave a written assignment, one that half the class groaned at.
"Hey, you shouldn't be so lazy, you'll get in trouble." The girl next to him whispered, not that the teacher even cared, but Leere looked at her; surprised that it was actually Grace. His girlfriend. They'd been dating for about a year now, not that Leere had ever gotten something resembling affection or even seen skin. She was just a friend, but she reminded him of his mother, she was always concerned about his health. "Your eyes don't look too good, are you tired?" Leere didn't respond, again; simply staring at her. Where some would feel awkward, she merely giggled and put her hand on top of his, that was the first time she'd ever done that… and it was the last time, too.

He wasn't sure what or why, but in that moment he'd come to realize what exactly had been happening to him. It hit him like a ton of bricks, that simple touch opened a gateway that flooded him information. The previous mass murderer was named Rue, and he wasn't a mass murderer in the least. He was a victim, he was the very first "syke" to show promise. His power was limitless, which drove him into the madness; after the tests, the ability had awakened further. He could hear everything, everyone's thoughts, all their sins and their most dark desires. Which lead him to believe HUMANS ARE WORTHLESS.

Leere, too, inherited this gift. The power was known to, or referred to scientists as "Absolute Worship." Telekinesis, telepathic, no matter what it was; sovereignty over it was his. More so than that, even if the body died, the powerful waves that came from the mind were never fully extinguished; and they simply moved on to a new host. This was an cycle of perfect reincarnation and more so than that, the thoughts and memories of anyone whom had come into contact with the original and including the original, were now transferred to him. That was what was inside him all this time, "the many."

The blur of memories and his already vacant personality absorbed it like a sponge. "Humans…" He said aloud, catching the attention of most in the class. "…you are all a fucking waste of life…" His voice had grown completely out of character, there was hate and bitterness laced within each word. Grace, was stunned. No so much stunned about the fact that he was acting like this, but that by touching him, she knew that he knew what she had done.

Grace never liked Leere. She had liked one of his old friends, John something, but John wanted another girl and Grace stuck with Leere to make him jealous. It had worked, of course, and later that night John and Grace made up physically, John did see her naked and got to take many 'firsts' that she had promised Leere. It wasn't just the shock that Leere knew about it, but the feeling he gave off. Even animals could detect hostility, but there was a supreme difference between anger and insanity. She knew all too well… before her bond with the physical world was abruptly severed.

She saw a spray of crimson flower across her desk, before realizing it belonged to her. She couldn't fathom what happened next, as all her blood vessels exploded, her organs were shredded to bits by her very blood. She had the pleasure of feeling her lungs fill with blood, before lacerations decorated her entire body and the blood danced from her innards, spraying onto numerous classmates. She was drained dry almost instantly.

The walls painted with crimson, his former 'love' thudding to an eternal rest against her desk, blood coming out of every visible orifice. The right side of his body entirely covered in her blood. And as he stood, the classmates and friends of all sorts rushing to the walls and for the exits. However, the doors shut, bolted closed by an invisible force. Leere hadn't even met eyes with them, casually pulling the hood of his hoodie up to cover his face as he turned to them.

Shouts fell on deaf ears.
"Murderer!"
"You sick fuck!"
"Stay away from us!"
"She's dead! He killed her!"
"Call the police!"

He faced them, and for the first time in along time, he felt truly alone; with his eyes completely black, almost hollow. As if staring into the eyes of Death himself, only this time he wouldn't blind and turn away. He extended one hand, uttering the single phrase: "Judgment…" One by one, each sin, searching the crevices of their minds; finding evil, and literally tearing them apart with this newfound power.

The school was painted, a fine rosy red. And Leere waved goodbye to his mortality, even as a large portion of the school exploded from the unbelievable force of Absolute Worship and he walked from the burning debris with blood on his hands. Entirely corrupted, but he felt fine, in fact, he felt somewhat accomplished. He had just committed mass murder and he could smile about it. Some were spared, but he had killed a fair amount of the 'whores' and 'assholes.'

Total count: 46.

Sirens in the distance halted his joy, along with the citizens around that witnessed a blood covered kid walk through fire. Hissing, almost bearing his teeth in an animalistic challenge, before running off into the alleyways. He knew them better than his own home, he could find shelter. Then he'd complete what the other host couldn't do, he'd kill every last person at that laboratory. If they wanted to build the perfect killer, he was it. He could deny it, but it was there. The sorrow and sadness of killing his friends… but they deserved it, and they were now apart of the many.