Ch. 3
Mitchell eyed the sack greedily, wondering whether or not his roommate would notice the absence of the gold when he returned. Of course he would, you idiot. He's not blind. He sighed. They had agreed to vote upon how to use the money later, as well as the remaining wishes. Speaking of wishes, he hadn't seen the Djinn, or whatever he called himself, for quite some time. The thing had asked for time to perform some other duties while they decided their second wish. Mitchell wondered where he was, and what duties genies had to perform. Shrugging the thought off, he turned the TV on. The news came on, showing some story about murders in an Asian restaurant. Mitchell, unconcerned, went to sleep as the story played.
The Wishmaster, as the Djinn had come to be known, no longer appeared as one of his race. Taking on the body of some dead man he was certain no one would recognize, the monster stalked the streets, looking for victims. A fourteen-year old boy walked a bike, alone, on the opposite side of the road. "Hello, there, my child, what would you like?" The boy, observing the man who just walked across the street, was confused. "W-What do you m-mean, sir?"
"You see, I possess, let's say, some special abilities. I can grant you a wish, and you don't have to give me anything in return." The boy didn't believe him, but decided to give it a try. Noting how tired he was from walking with the broken device, a wish appeared in his mind. "I wish my bike had new wheels" (for it was the wheels that the damage appeared in). After a crackling of energy, the boy stared in awe as the rusty, shattered spokes were replaced with shiny, fully repaired ones. "Thank you, mister. How can I repay you?" The man smiled, in a way that most would have interpreted as sinister. "You will repay me in good time. Don't worry, it won't cost a penny." The boy rode away, happily, until the spokes found themselves magnetically attracted to a sewer line. This travesty was somehow avoided by the rider, and, glad to have escaped death, wasn't paying to the car that flew down the road he had just touched. The Wishmaster watched this, at first with no emotion, but then with a tinge of joy. He could feel the power from the kid's soul fill him, making him stronger. The feeling passed, and the monster moved on to find another victim.
In a different part of the city, a smaller monster was working his magic on a larger victim. The man in question was noticeably obese, probably due to his habit of watching television and playing video games all day. He was particularly interested in Dwarves for some reason. "So, ye claim to know nothing of me gold, eh laddy?" as the little man, if it could be called that, in green.
"No, I don't know anything about any gold! Why are you doing this to me?"
"Honestly, lad, me dun' know where in Ifreann me gold is, or who has it. Ye just 'appened to be 'ere, so I decided to punish ye for it. Me 'ear ye take a fancy t'wards dwarves, is me right?"
"Well, yeah, but I don't know what that has to do with anything."
The Leprechaun pointed at him. The man shrieked as his bones started folding in on themselves, painfully decreasing his height. Hairs sprouted from his chin, not simply growing like normal hairs, but bursting out of his skin, followed by a trickle of blood. His pain, while lived much longer than any man could want, didn't last too terribly long, for he died after several minutes. At this point, he looked like a distorted version of the stereotypical fantasy dwarf. "Eh, 'e probably din't know anythin' anyways." Soon after the little demon finished his statement, a door opened. It was the murder victim's roommate. His description is lost to the writer of this story, as are his hobbies. In another room, this person accessed a computer, completely oblivious to the events that had just occurred in that very building. Leprechaun snuck to the doorway, observing the intruder's (at least as he saw it) actions. All he could discover was that this person used the screen-name Rurrlock-God of Power. "Me dun' s'pose ye know where to find me gold, do ye?"
"What?" he asked, startled.
"Me gold 'as been taken from me, and if ye can't tell me where it is, eh'll 'ave to kill ya."
Scared, 'Rurrlock' racked his brain for any knowledge of gold. After a while, it hit him. "Mitchell and Nathan had some."
"Mitchell en' Natan? Who be these louts?"
"They live at the college, room…um..243..I think, yeah, that's it!"
"Thank ye. For bein' the only one to show interest in me story, eh'll spare ye." With that, the green-clothed man left, leaving the self-proclaimed God of Power speechless.
Wishmaster chuckled as the shopkeeper crushed the bee under her finger. He wished that he could fly, and I let him fly. A feeling of foreboding came over him. He sensed that the college idiots who freed him were in trouble. It seems that the gold's owner has come for it. I should make sure they only kill one of the kids. I don't need one, as I could always find someone else, but that could be quite annoying. Upon returning to the campus, he soon found something else that would be quite annoying.