PART IV: The Tempest

"Ok, Ben, I think that's enough," she laughed lightly; a predatory smile appeared on her lips.

Her companion had remained true to their deal to the final moments, remaining on the sand before her on his hands and knees, naked.

She turned away to give him privacy—which she had denied him in the duration of the past half an hour—and turned to the lake. The crystal surface of it was calmed, undisturbed even by the fall of rare leaves abducted by the winds from the top of the tall trees. How idyllic was the scenery in the light of the sun; how calm.

Yet what boiled inside her was far from the colors of the picture. She still enjoyed those moments when her words were law. Though they had been short-lived like a star that fell from the heavens, but she felt their embrace, iron but strangely soft. The very fact that she had made Ben Tennyson crawl and follow her every command lacked the most proper description. It was just this need of testing your personal power over others, so typical to all human beings in different amounts. Some might have considered it a sign of sociopathy but for some it was natural.

"That was fun, wasn't it, Ben," she concluded, her back to him.

She heard him clapping his knees with his hands, brushing of the sand that had attached to him.

"It's nice to know that at least you enjoyed it," he responded in a voice so sharp that immediately gave away his dissatisfaction.

She turned her face to him, giving his standing figure another look-over.

"Oh please, you liked it yourself," Charmcaster laughed.

"And I have to admit that you looked adorable acting like a puppy." she then added.

Ben hummed and crossed his hands on his chest. Now he was the one to turn around.

"Ben?" she addressed him.

There was no reply.

"Ben, what's wrong?" the young man heard her concerned voice.

"I'm not talking to you anymore," he finally granted her a statement.

She put her palms on her hips.

"You would have seemed more convincing if you had had your clothes on," she replied in a teasing tone.

Again her words were followed by silence.

She shook her head, smiling again. It was no denial that Ben had always been a playful type, whether at the age of ten, in his mid-teen, or at the dusk of his teens. Everywhere possible he would attempt to start a show, a show in which he played the main role and in which he was the director and the scriptwriter, the host and the producer. The little drama in those moments was just another performance in his theatre; unfortunately for him, he had never learned to hide his intentions.

When there is only one role in a performance—it is a monologue; when there are two—it is a play. Well then, she would play the role of the main heroine if he wanted. Sophocles or Shakespeare, let the show go on!

"Oh, c'mon, Ben," her voice was suddenly fused with the melody of guilt and high sensitivity, "I didn't mean it," she wrapped her hands around his torso, and in a moment leaned to him.

Ben closed his eyes as their bodies touched. Even through the purple, one of the colors of coldness, robe he could feel the heat radiating from her body. He bathed in this new source of warmth. His mood, more or less spoiled by the "bet", rose once more. He wanted her embrace to continue for a longer period of time, maybe even until the end of the day.

He sighed deeply.

"I was just having fun," Charmcaster continued her lines.

At the same time her hand softly caressed his chest, adding newer sensations.

"And you did promise you would do anything I say I won," he then felt her touch his bare shoulder with her soft moist lips.

Ben found himself burning. The fires of lust now blazed in him with such ferocity that thought he would be reduced to ashes within the next minute.

He put his hands on top of hers and roughly pulled them away, releasing himself from her embrace, something so sweet that he was too reluctant to escape. Yet he had other plans. He made a step forward and then turned around. Their eyes were now locked, and he could notice by her expression that even she expected not this move from him.

Ben reached out to her. Putting his hands to the sides of her black tiara, he slowly lifted it off her head, her gaze not leaving him.

He looked at her, amazed by the metamorphosis. Those traces of viciousness he had noticed earlier had faded away. It seemed that 'Charmcaster' was now gone along with the diadem, and only Caroline stood before him. No mistake that she was the same person, the only person to offer him comfort in a twist of fate most ironic…

That moment memories began their wild dance in his head.


The green vehicle glided the road as smoothly as a skater upon ice. It was driven forward towards the centers of urbanism, leaving the vast, endless spaces of rural America behind. Yet its destination—the town of Bellwood—was still not on the horizon, and was not expected to appear in the distance in the shortest spans of time.

Ben closed his eyes under the sway of boredom and exhaustion. Finally, after all these hours spent either in the way or in fighting he could find some rest. Only darkness was in front of him, yet calm dwelled in its deeps. Still, slowly he exited it and he was once again surveying the green meadows that flashed in an endless line at the other side of the car's door.

He sat where his usual place was—on the backseat—the first row, traditionally reserved for his two teammates; the one driving, a tall muscular young man with hair of the color of a raven's wing. The one sitting next to him was in a bright contrast: a fragile figure with flaming-red hair hanging down her shoulders. Ben could not see her eyes, for she was not turned to him; however they differed little from his, sharing the same emerald color.

"I don't get it why are all these freaks so attracted to this planet?" Kevin spoke in his traditional cool-guy manner.

Indeed, that was an interesting question. Early in the morning Grandpa Max informed them about the detection of alien activities and sent them to explore this case. What the trio had discovered gave an impression of segment taken from the oldest and most cliché sci-fi films: alien robots. They had fought artificial extraterrestrials before, but it seemed the creators of this model lacked any rudiments of imagination. Simple metallic humanoid forms were definitely not an innovation.

"Unfortunately, we did not have time to find out," remarked Ben, "especially taking into account that you blew our cover," he sharply added.

"Oh, please Tennyson, spare me the lecture," the taller guy replied with a share of annoyance, "they were bad guys. They still attacked us and, hence, got their metal hides kicked."

"And secondly, do you think you would have acted differently if that smaller bot had come too close to your cover?" he added after a short pause.

"I think I would have thought for a moment before deciding to use my special abilities on him in the presence of his comrades…" Ben continued his verbal attack on him.

"That's also called strategy," he smirked.

"The strategy of being a hot head?"

"Oh, shut up," Kevin told him, now touched by irritation.

"Ok, break it up you two," spoke their traditional mediator, Gwen, after a sigh.

"Fine," the driver said.

"Ok," Ben nodded in a sign of agreement.

Nobody said a word for the next several minutes. It became too quiet, and Gwen was the person to fully understand this new atmosphere.

"Anyway, a fact remains a fact—they have been defeated, and if they arrive again, then we could raise the question again in relation to their case." She said what was supposed to be an epilogue to this heated conversation.

"So," Kevin said again after another several moments of silence, "did any of you watch that TV special about Big Foot yesterday?" he attempted to take the talk into a different stream, "I personally didn't?"

Yet this potential topic of discussion was not destined to be long. Even the best and fastest of stallions could fail its owner. Accompanied by a loud specific sound parodied a number of times even by small children, the car stopped in its pace.

"Shit!" Kevin proclaimed, enraged, gripping the wheel more tightly; only a bit more and it would be broken.

Yet rationality prevailed in the often uncontrollable youngster. The car door was opened, and he stepped outside. He opened the front of the car.

"This can't be good," the wielder of the alien watch commented.

At the same time he experienced a type of twisted joy, watching how the other male member of the team walked heavily to the back of the car to get the needed appliances, his facial features covered by the veil of anger.

"Perhaps we should accompany him," Gwen turned to her cousin.

He caught her emerald eyes with his gaze, sinking in them like in a swamp, unable to move. He felt his hearth beat faster.

"Ben?" she asked, dismayed by his silent, non-ceasing stare.

"Ah, what—"her voice finally brought him out of the trans.

"Sorry about that. I guess I'm still tired after that brawl. What was that again?" he quickly came up with an excuse.

"Let's go join him," she said and left the car following her boyfriend's example.

Ben was left alone for several moments in the vehicle before doing the same.

He joined them in front of the car.

"So, is it bad?" he asked, looking at the mechanics he had little understanding of.

"I have it under control," Kevin answered, yet the manner in which he pronounced it, slow and chilly, indicated its true distance from the truth.

"Perhaps…" Ben started, unsure whether what he wanted to say was intended to be a recommendation or a witty remark.

"Look, I can do it on my own," he angrily looked at him angrily.

"You sure, Kevin," the redhead asked.

"One hundred per cent, babe," his voice changed in a softer way under her influence.

For some reason even this comment made Ben grip his teeth.

"I'm too tired to help you anyway," Ben said in an attempt to draw their attention.

At the same time it was the truth. It was he who had reverted several dozen of their foes back into scrap in the form of the reptile-like Humongosaur.

"Then go to sleep, for crying out loud!" the other one gave a "suggestion".

"Can it you two!" Gwen interfered again.

"No, perhaps, I really should lie down," Ben told them.

The fight had truly worn him out and he was definitely not interested in watching the epic tale of Kevin Levin doing repairs.

"Oh no, Ben, how will you be able to sleep without your plushy?!" Kevin proclaimed and brought his hands to his mouth in a scene of a mocking horrific revelation.

"Kevin!" Ben's cousin crossed her hands on her chest, giving him a disapproving look.

"Ok, Ok, it was just a crack," the older guy laughed.

But Ben it did not matter to Ben.

"Ha, ha, Kev, you're so funny," he said unemotionally, giving him a glance before he once again got inside the car.

He took his boots off and accommodated the whole of himself on the backseat. He closed his eyes again and very quickly sleep overcame him. But, just like it, the awakening also reached him with unexpected speed.

As he sat up, it became evident he was now alone. His two comrades stood not before the front of the car. Ben got out of the car and looked around—they were nowhere in sight. The first thought that visited him was that this was a mere dream; Kevin and Gwen leaving him and the dark-haired youngster's car in the middle of nowhere dwelled within the realm of the impossible.

He looked around again. The scenery had not changed; by his side of the road only a field stretched; the darkened forms of tall trees stood in the distance. By the other side…a groove, just in ten or so steps.

Haunting thoughts patted the young man on the head. Perhaps it was not a dream after all. Above him, the sun's place on the heavens remained almost unchanged. He could not have been asleep for more than thirty-forty minutes.

Perhaps they had really abandoned him for some time? He was known to be a hard sleeper; in some circumstances perhaps even chunks of ice raining from the skies in an alliance with an earthquake would have been able to wake him up. Moreover, he could not remember any other vehicle passing them the whole time they had been on that road; he even had an impression it was not used very often, so there was not a serious reason to propose anything radical, like a possibility of theft, happening to it.

A possible explanation was developed in his mind, both obvious and shocking.

He felt an unseen force urge him to reach for the alien watch on his hand. As though possessed by some entity, he did so. A standard movement of his fingers, and the choice appeared on the tiny screen. He slammed his palm against the device.

Light, as green as his eyes, consumed him. When it faded into nothing, another shape stood in the young man's place. Tall and grim, Big Chill's radiated cold by its own presence. The alien flapped its wings, the limbs resembling a long dark-blue cloak, and within several seconds disappeared within the shadows of the grove.

Like a phantom he flew silently amidst the shades of the trees. Carefulness was his method, and doubtable that any mortal's eyes could have spotted the agile shape. His trek lasted for only several minutes.

He failed to spot the pair, but he did hear them…

Immediately, the light ghostly form raised higher, finding refuge in the head of an oak tree just in front of him. The other side of the oak opened a view of them, and in that moment Ben felt as if lightning struck him with all of its might.

His suspicions crawling in the beginning, strengthen by the noises he heard just several seconds before, were now confirmed by his eyes. Again an unseen force played with him, grabbing the alien by the foot, pulling him lower before finally accommodating him on one of the branches, protected skillfully by the leaves.

Ironically, Big Chill, a master of cold, was the one now frozen to the branch he sat on. He could not control any part of his body, unable even to close his eyes under the sway of shock.

Unfortunately for himself, Ben clearly saw everything below him.

Kevin lay on the ground, his eyes closed. His girlfriend was above him, her palms pressed to his chess. By the constant rhythmical movements her body made, up and down, there could be no mistakes concerning their activity. Her skirt, panties, and shoes lay on the ground beside them, and Ben, from his location, could see some of the exposed parts of her lower abdomen…

Her soft moans and his heavy breathing were hot copper poured into his ears. The figure of Big Chill sat motionless, but Ben Tennyson, its essence, was squeezed inside that shell. In those moments, Ben wished his mind and memory would leave him forever so that he could be able to walk the numerous roads of the world without a slightest concern for anything. Being a lost soul for an eternity was better than living with the image of the one true love of his life willingly pleasing his rival.

"Kevin!" the redhead shouted the name of her lover in intimate joy before erupting in laughter.

Ben managed to finally move one of his hanging feet, possibly Gwen's laughter somehow brought his mobility back. There was no alternative to the action he was going to take—carefully in an attempt to remain undetected, he retreated.

Back near the car he transformed to his original form. He came down to his knees, hitting the ground beneath him several times with his fist, trying to chase away his wildered emotion this way.

He felt betrayed. They had simply left him in his sleep for a chance to make out. Worse, they thought he would not notice their absence!

Ben stood up and approached the car. Enslaved by anger and other burning feelings, he spat on the car. Let that at least be his small revenge for their betrayal!

True, Gwen and Kevin had been officially a couple for some time now, and he had guessed that they had done activities like that before. But witnessing it was like a strike with a dagger.

Yet, strangely, almost all of his anger was not dedicated to her but to him…

He wished Kevin had remained the monster he was nine years ago. He had a distant hope that one day the Gwen's boyfriend would once again become that monster and end up back in the Null Void where he would remain until his last days.

He entered the car and lay on the backseat—when they return, let them think in their ignorance that he had been asleep all this time.

As he was choking on his emotions, an image sparkled in his mind: a pair of eyes. However, their color was not emerald-green but sea-blue…

In all this anguish he had almost forgotten a shadow from the past he met again just a few days before and what they did together. A new feeling was added to the tempest inside him—want.