John put on his suit and tie and prepared for a long day at work. Since the deaths of Alvosta and Grey, he had been different. Before, he had been so… withdrawn. For example, he had never wanted to work in court, preferring the duties of the office. Now, if there was a case to be argued and debated, he was all for it, heads on, no holds barred. And it scared him. Withdrawal had always been what kept him under control. He had enough physical power to kill someone, and it frightened him. Being flamboyant could lead to recklessness, and recklessness to carelessness, and carelessness to… death.
He pushed these thoughts aside as Freddy walked in, face red with perspiration running down his chubby face. "John, there's a hot new case you've gotta get! This punk kid broke this old lady's window last night around ten, and she's saying he shot fire out his hands to do it! It's crazy!"
Trying not to appear excited, John said, "So? She could be lying. What makes this so special?"
Freddy stared John hard in the face. "Her windows weren't just broken… they were melted."
John pretended to consider it, then said, "Okay, I'll look into it. It sounds like a pretty easy case. The old lady's delusional, the kid lit a little gas, and the window melted. Vandalizing of property; no problem. I'll be back by 5:00.
He grabbed his coat and rushed out the door, his excitement now visible. Not only was he going to get some answers out of this kid, the punk wasn't even going to know that it was the same guy that had faced his entire gang down the previous night! He hopped in his Mustang (he was, after all, a lawyer) and sped down to the courthouse with thoughts of a job well done in his head.
There was a slight problem, he quickly discovered. The kid didn't want to talk.
"Hi, son. What's your name?"
Silence.
"How's it going?"
Silence.
"Nice day, huh?"
Silence.
A new strategy would need to be improvised. Intimidation.
"Okay kid, you and I both know that you can pay a nice heavy fine for this, so why don't you let me talk to you so that I'll have something to win the case with. Actually, I'm a pretty famous lawyer around town. To tell you the truth, I'll bet I could get you in jail for a couple of weeks just for this one broken window."
"I'd burn it down."
At least he's talking. "How would you do that, you little punk?"
"All I'd need is my hands."
"They don't give out matches to prisoners in jail."
"All I'd need is my hands."
John took a dangerous risk. "Yeah, right. Prove it."
The kid smiled a small little evil smile and took a paper off the desk John sat at. His eyes went white for a moment, and the paper lit on fire. He tossed it on the floor and stomped the flame out.
"You really did melt that window didn't you?" asked John.
"Yep. I was going after…" he stopped suddenly, realizing that it would only get him into more trouble to tell the events of the past night.
"After whom?"
"Nobody. It was just an accident. That's all. I was goofin' off and did the same thing I just did to that paper, only… different."
John got ready to ask the big question, staring with his cold, icy eyes into the kid's. "Who gave you the drug, little man?"
The kid stared back, then his eyes went wide. "You- you're him! The guy in the black suit!"
He bolted out of the room like a lightning bolt, a look of panic and terror on his face.
"Wait!" shouted John cautiously to the young man.
It was too late. As he rushed out the building, he had scarce enough time to see the kid jump in the path of a speeding car.
"Crap," Nightmare muttered.