"Books…" Steve scoffed, glaring over the page he had open and towards the rock.
"This is important." Eli chirped from his desk, peeling through dense pages. "We have to rule out that this rock is ordinary phenomena, see. Then we can use any clues we get from studying ordinary rocks-"
Steve hissed through his teeth. "This is boring, man. The Creepslayrz are made for better than this." He spread out on Eli's floor, flicking the page of the book dismissively.
Is this SERIOUSLY fun for him?
Eli turned to him, a worried frown on his face. "Sorry… but this is a lot of what paranormal research can be like this… Uh… you can do something else…"
Steve sat up with a sigh. "Like what?" He tossed an open book into the air and then caught it on its spine. "Hopefully this'll lead us to something more... I dunno, fun? Important?"
"Exactly." Eli replied. "You understand then! Research is important."
Steve shrugged. "It's important to YOU. That's enough for me."
Eli appeared surprised."W-well, it's..." He seemed thoughtful. "It's more fun to study with somebody else than study alone."
Steve spun another book into the air. "Better to not study at all, though."
Suddenly Steve heard the call of a woman downstairs- Eli's mother. She sounded annoyed.
"Oh nooooo…" Eli moaned. "I forget to load the dishwasher… uh-it- it won't be long! COMING, MOM! OKAY, I'LL DO IT!"
Eli shot Steve an irritated glance as he was torn away from his precious investigation to do chores. Steve nodded back knowingly.
Steve lay back down on the floor, now both lonely and bored.
Is this really "studying?"
A faint glow caught his eye, nagging at him.
Glancing back to the door, Steve stood up and approached the light. The captured rock was still on the table.
Eli will never know… besides, it might not even be important.
He picked up the jar quickly.
Yeah, I'm studying. Studying this rock. That's all.
The rock shook out of the jar with a rattle into his open left hand.
It landed on his skin soundlessly. Steve was surprised to find it was a bit warm to the touch. He rolled it over in his hand, examining the yellow crystals that protruded from its surface. He closed his fingers around it, testing how strong it was.
"Ouch!" he hissed, a sudden sharp pain cutting into his palm. The rock tumbled to the floor as he dropped it, an involuntary reflex making him jerk his hand back.
"Stupid rock..." muttered, massaging his hand as he examined the small cut it had left on his palm. He rubbed away a small drop of blood, angry that an inanimate object, of all things, had injured him.
He leaned down to grab the rock, this time being rather careful as he dropped it back into the jar. He shook the jar, noticing that the rock had faded to a matte black color. He shook the jar harder, as if it where a glow stick, but was unable to recall the yellow glow.
Suddenly he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
Eli! Oh, crap! Crap!
Steve set the jar on the table roughly where it was before, and sat himself back down the floor.
"Whew!" Eli sighed as he returned. "Glad that's over."
"Cool." Steve replied tonelessly, overcome with panic inside his own head.
Did the rock go dark because I touched it?! He can't notice! He won't!
"Huh…" Eli began, and Steve heard him tap the jar. "Is it glowing as much as before…? Wait, is it glowing at all?"
OH NO! Of course he noticed!
Steve's injured hand curled into a fist.
"Hmmm…" Eli muttered. "What changed?"
Eli glanced over to him.
"What?" Steve snapped. "I didn't do anything! I didn't!"
Eli recoiled. "I… I didn't say you did." Eli studied Steve's face for a heated second. "Wait, DID you mess with it?"
"NO!" Steve stood up, chest heaving. He stood over Eli, feeling defensive. "I didn't do a thing."
You broke his stupid rock! Idiot!
Eli crossed his arms. "You need to tell me if you did, because-"
"I didn't!" Steve pouted. "It... I don't know why it stopped glowing. Isn't that what your books are supposed to tell you?"
Eli frowned. He turned back to the rock, studying it. "It looks like a normal volcanic rock now..." Eli grabbed a nearby flashlight, flicking it on and off as he pointed the beam at the rock. Nothing happened.
"What happened?" He wondered aloud.
"Oh well." Steve said. "It wasn't terribly exciting in the first place. Guess it was ordinary."
Eli had his hand on his chin, turning the jar around, as if it would suddenly make the rock interesting again.
"It's strange..."
Steve couldn't stand it.
Who cares? Why do I care about this? If I just tell him... I can't! I was a breach of trust... it's easier not to tell him...
"You know what?" Steve said, throwing his arms into the air. "This IS too boring for me. Also… I'm no good at this stuff anyway, right? Let me know what you find, okay? I'm bailing."
"Uh…" Eli turned to him, but Steve was already rushing out of the room, refusing to make eye contact with his friend. "Hey, wait..."
Eli watched in confusion as Steve bolted out of the house and into the night, roaring away on his Vespa.
Steve was lashing out, caught up in the darkness. He roared at any who dare defy him, crushing shadows beneath his feet and hands. Anyone who got his way would just be crushed. It was simple. Why couldn't they understand?!
I'M THE KING, YOU FOOLS! THE KING!
He opened his fists, fire spreading along his arm and illuminating his surroundings. A figure was cowering before him.
He lifted his flaming hand to strike, just as the figure turned to him-
"PALCHUCK." It said, voice too deep for someone so small.
It was Eli, features distorted by the darkness.
"STEVE?" shadow Eli spoke again.
wait. no.
Steve watched in horror as his glowing fist crashed down.
"STEVE PALCHUCK!"
Steve gasped, flailing as he woke up in his own bed. The shadows receded, morning light replacing them. He grumbled, starting to recognize the voice that called his name.
"I'm awake! Jeez!"
His not-step father filled Steve's doorway.
"Bad dreams?" The coach asked his not-stepson, ever so innocently and more irritating than ever.
Steve growled again. "NO, get out of here! I'm up! I'm up."
Steve sat on the edge of his bed, running fingers through his sweaty bangs. As his hands pulled away, he glared at the ugly red cut on his left palm.
What a creepy nightmare.
The eerie mood followed him to the bathroom.
He looked at own handsome reflection, managing a slight smile as he brushed golden locks from his eyes.
"Lookin good." He muttered, but he didn't feel the words as he spoke them.
I didn't feel like myself at all.
The nagging premonition followed him to the shower, fading as his normal morning routine unfolded as usual, the warm mist of the shower bringing him back into the waking world. He got dressed, grabbed breakfast, and made for the door.
Well, time for school then.
"Hey." A voice sounded in his ear as he stepped out the door, way too close.
Coach continued to speak as Steve walked away. "Is everything okay? You seem down this morning."
"I'm fine." Steve replied. "I'm just fine."
"Are you sure?" Coach sounded concerned. "You've been a bit… touchy… the past few weeks. More than normal." Coach almost laughed. "I just…"
Heat rose in Steve's chest, pain blossoming into anger with the flick of single spark. He made a sharp turn to face his not-stepfather.
"I've TOLD you already, old man, you're NOT my father, so stop trying to ACT like it!"
The words where laced with venom, clear and crisp. Steve could feel his upper lip curling, rage boiling visibly beneath the surface.
A flash of pain crossed Coach's face, instead of the anger Steve expected.
"Palchuck, please..." Coach began to plead. "Don't act like this."
Suddenly Steve felt himself deflate, the anger vanishing like smoke.
"Sorry." He breathed. "I just don't feel very good today."
He turned away from his dismayed not-step dad, sick with worry.
Why does everything suck more than normal today?!
He fumbled for his keys as he got on his Vespa.
"PALCHUCK!" Coach yelled. "COME BACK!"
The vehicle rumbled to life beneath him as Steve fled once more, not daring to glance back.
Whatever! I don't care!
He did care, a tiny bit, but through the fog of anger it was easy to pretend he didn't.
He reeved his vehicle, suddenly gritting his teeth. A sharp pain rolled up his left arm, all the way to his temple.
Steve slowed down, turning over his left hand.
He gasped, nearly spinning out of control as his slackened his grip on the handles.
"Wha..."
The tiny cut on his palm had darkened, the skin around it rough and gray. Steve pressed a finger to it, wincing, but not because of the pain- no, the gray skin felt cold and lifeless as stone.
He shook his head, a pinprick of fear lodging itself into his heart.
Clouds passed across the sun, darkening the bright morning as Steve continued his march to school.
