Phonenix's Note:
Wishing you all a joyful and adventurous New Year of 2025! May this year be filled with endless opportunities, exciting journeys, and countless moments of laughter and fun. Here's hoping you enjoy good health—mentally, physically, and spiritually—throughout the coming months.
Thank you for supporting this humble author. Writing isn't about earning but about creating joy and inspiration for all of you. Your encouragement and feedback have been invaluable, and I'm so grateful to continue this journey alongside each of you.
Feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions—your input helps me grow as a writer. Every story I craft is unique and built with care, offering fresh ideas for those seeking something new. I appreciate each of you for being part of this adventure.
I've written over a million words, published 23 stories, and I have plans to keep creating more. I also have three drafts in progress and countless ideas floating around in my head, waiting to come to life! The journey of storytelling continues, and I can't wait to share more with all of you.
Thanks again, and here's to a fantastic 2025! Stay safe, stay inspired, and remember this author as we continue to explore new stories together.
Much love and gratitude!
Chapter 03
The Rustbucket was unusually quiet that evening as the Tennysons settled back inside. The bright chaos of the fair felt a world away now, replaced by the dim interior lighting of their rolling home. Ben sat at the small table, arms crossed, his mask and cloak discarded in a heap next to him. His adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind exhaustion—and a lingering tension in the air.
Grandpa Max leaned against the counter, arms folded as he looked at his grandson with a mixture of concern and frustration.
"That was reckless, Ben," Max said, his voice stern but measured. "You could've been seriously hurt—or worse. What were you thinking, jumping onto a rollercoaster like that?"
Ben shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Max's gaze. "I wasn't thinking," he muttered. "I just… I had to do something."
"And you didn't think to let the professionals handle it? I was working on the controls, Ben. You could've gotten yourself killed." Max ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. "I'm proud you wanted to help, but there are better ways to do that than throwing yourself into danger without a plan."
Ben said nothing, staring down at the table.
For once, Gwen wasn't jumping in to scold him. She sat across from him, her arms resting on the table, her face unreadable. Then, without warning, she let out a quiet snicker.
"Well," she said, breaking the silence, "I guess someone didn't want to be a sidekick anymore."
Ben's head snapped up, his face darkening. "What did you just say?"
Gwen shrugged, leaning back in her seat with a smug smile. "I mean, it's pretty obvious, Ben. You're tired of being in the background while I save the day with the Omnitrix. You just had to do something dramatic to get attention."
"That's not—" Ben started, his voice rising before cutting himself off. His hands curled into fists as anger bubbled up inside him. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Don't I? You've been sulking ever since I got this watch. Face it, Ben—you're jealous."
That snapped him.
"Jealous?" he shouted, standing up so abruptly his chair scraped against the floor. "You think I'm jealous of you? Of that stupid 'watch'?"
Max held up a hand. "Ben—"
But Ben didn't stop. He was too far gone now, the words spilling out of him before he could stop them.
"You've been unbearable ever since you got that thing!" he shouted, pointing at the Omnitrix on her wrist. "It's like you think you're better than everyone else now—better than 'me'!"
Gwen's smug expression faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, but Ben wasn't done.
"All you do is rub it in my face," he continued, his voice shaking. "Every time you use it, it's like you're trying to remind me that you're the hero now and I'm just… just nothing."
The silence that followed was deafening. Gwen stared at him, her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to say something but didn't know how. Max frowned, his arms dropping to his sides.
"Ben," Gwen said quietly, her tone careful, "are you jealous of me?"
Ben froze, the question hitting him harder than he expected. He bit his lip, his jaw clenching as he looked away.
"Forget it," he muttered, his voice low and tight. He stormed toward the back of the Rustbucket, slamming the door shut behind him.
The silence lingered long after he was gone. Gwen slumped back in her seat, staring at the closed door with a frown.
"I didn't mean it like that," she said softly, more to herself than anyone else.
Max sighed again, shaking his head. "You two have a lot to figure out," he said, his voice heavy.
—(~/\~)—
Ben stomped through the market, the cool evening air doing little to cool his boiling anger. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, his head low as he wove through the crowd of bustling shoppers and brightly lit stalls. His conversation—or more accurately, argument—with Gwen replayed in his mind on a maddening loop.
"She thinks she's so great," he muttered under his breath, kicking a loose can out of his way. "Like I even 'care' about that stupid watch."
The market was lively, with vendors shouting out deals on everything from fresh produce to knockoff electronics. Ben didn't pay much attention to any of it, his frustration clouding his senses, until something caught his eye.
A massive LED screen mounted above a nearby electronics shop lit up with bright, futuristic graphics. The words 'Samsung Galaxy S26 Ultra: Launch Event—Live Now!' flashed across the screen, accompanied by sleek animations of the phone spinning through space.
Ben paused, his steps faltering as he stared up at the screen. The crowd around him continued to move, but his attention was locked on the dazzling presentation.
The host on the screen, dressed in a sharp suit, spoke with practiced enthusiasm. "Ladies and gentlemen, the wait is over! The Samsung Galaxy S26 Ultra is here, redefining what a smartphone can do. Featuring a stunning 6.9-inch dynamic AMOLED display, a 250-megapixel quad camera system, and the all-new Exo-Core processor for unparalleled speed."
The camera zoomed in on the phone, showcasing its sleek design and vibrant screen.
Ben whistled low, momentarily forgetting his anger. "Whoa," he muttered, leaning closer. "That thing's insane."
The host continued, his excitement infectious. "And for gamers and creatives, the Galaxy S26 Ultra introduces the Hyper-Haptic stylus, offering unparalleled precision and responsiveness. This is more than a phone—it's a revolution."
The screen transitioned to a demo reel, showing the phone being used to play high-definition games, shoot cinematic-quality videos, and even render 3D models with ease.
Ben couldn't help but be impressed. "Man, imagine owning something like that," he said to himself. "No more lag, no more low-res gaming…"
For a brief moment, the tension in his chest eased, replaced by a pang of longing. He didn't have anything close to a top-tier phone. His beat-up model could barely load his favorite games without crashing.
As the launch event continued, Ben's mind began to wander. He imagined himself with the Galaxy S26 Ultra, showing it off to his classmates, using its amazing camera to capture perfect shots, and playing games with zero lag. It would be the ultimate distraction from everything that had been bothering him lately.
"Bet even Gwen would be jealous of this," he muttered with a smirk.
The thought brought him a flicker of satisfaction, but it was quickly overshadowed by the reminder of their fight. His jaw tightened again as he clenched his fists. "Whatever. Who needs her approval anyway?"
He leaned against a lamppost, watching as the host announced the phone's price—a jaw-dropping number that made Ben wince. There was no way he could afford something like that, not even if he saved up for years.
With a sigh, he pushed off the lamppost and continued walking. The glow of the screen lingered in his peripheral vision as he moved through the market, his thoughts a swirl of frustration and envy.
Ben wandered aimlessly through the market, still lost in his thoughts, when he accidentally collided with someone. The impact jolted him out of his daze, and he looked up to see a boy around his age, with jet-black hair that hung just above his piercing dark eyes. The boy wore scuffed jeans, a patched-up jacket, and sneakers that had seen better days—his appearance screamed "street kid."
"Watch it," the boy said coolly, barely sparing Ben a glance before brushing past him.
"Uh, sorry," Ben muttered, but his apology trailed off as he noticed the boy heading toward the showroom of the electronics store that was broadcasting the Samsung Galaxy S26 Ultra launch.
Ben slowed his pace, watching curiously as the boy reached the building's backdoor. He glanced over his shoulder once, then winked at Ben before casually placing his hand on the door's handle.
"What is he…?" Ben started to say, but before he could finish, the door clicked open as if it had been unlocked by some invisible force. The boy slipped inside without hesitation.
Alarm bells went off in Ben's head. "What are you doing?!" he hissed, jogging after him.
Ben hesitated for a second but curiosity—and a sense of responsibility—got the better of him. Pushing the door open, he followed the boy into the dimly lit hallway beyond.
The boy was waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. "You're persistent, huh?" he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"What are you doing here?" Ben demanded. "This is private property!"
The boy shrugged, standing upright. "Relax, man. Name's Kevin E. Levin. And tonight, I'm walking out of here with that shiny new phone they've got in the vault."
Ben's eyes widened. "You're stealing it?!"
"Stealing's a strong word," Kevin said, waving a hand dismissively. "Think of it as… redistributing resources."
"That's still stealing!" Ben shot back. "And you'll get caught! This place has tight security—cameras, alarms—"
Kevin smirked, cutting him off. "Oh, I've got that covered." He turned and approached a control panel on the wall. Placing his hand on it, he closed his eyes in concentration. A faint hum filled the air as sparks flickered around his fingers, and after a moment, the light on the panel turned green with a soft beep.
Ben's jaw dropped. "How did you—? Is that some kind of… power?"
Kevin turned back to him, grinning. "Let's just say I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Tell you what," he added, his tone conspiratorial, "I'll give you one of the phones if you keep your mouth shut. Deal?"
Ben hesitated. The thought of walking out with a Galaxy S26 Ultra—no questions asked—was incredibly tempting. He imagined the phone in his hands, its sleek design, its endless capabilities. But then he thought about Grandpa Max, about the lessons he'd always taught him about doing the right thing.
Ben shook his head firmly. "No way. I'm not helping you steal."
Kevin's grin faltered, his expression darkening. "Oho? So you wanna mess with me instead?"
Ben gulped as Kevin stepped closer. Up close, he noticed how muscular Kevin was, the kind of strength that came from surviving on the streets. There was no way Ben could take him in a fistfight, especially without powers.
"Relax," Ben said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to mess with you."
Kevin smirked again, the tension easing. "Smart move, dweeb."
Without another word, Kevin turned back to the vault room. He placed his hand on the heavy steel door, and just like before, sparks danced along his fingertips. The door shuddered, groaning loudly before it unlocked with a heavy clunk. Kevin pushed it open, revealing shelves lined with electronics, including a sealed carton labeled 'Samsung Galaxy S26 Ultra – Launch Stock'.
"Bingo," Kevin said, stepping inside. He grabbed the entire carton with ease, hoisting it over his shoulder.
"Wait!" Ben said, stepping forward. "You can't just—"
"See you around, hero," Kevin interrupted, his tone dripping with mockery. He shot Ben one last smirk before disappearing out the backdoor into the night, the carton still in his grasp.
Ben stood there, frozen. He wanted to chase after Kevin, to stop him somehow, but the reality of his powerlessness kept him rooted in place.
"Great," Ben muttered to himself, frustration bubbling up inside him. "Now what am I supposed to do?"
—(~/\~)—
Kevin sat in his dimly lit subway hideout, the distant hum of passing trains echoing faintly through the tunnels. The stolen carton of Samsung Galaxy S26 Ultras was stacked neatly beside him, and he had already unpacked one of the phones. The sleek device glinted under the pale yellow light of a single dangling bulb.
He leaned back against an old, creaky chair, grinning smugly as he powered up the phone. "This is it," he muttered to himself, scrolling through its flawless interface. "Top of the line. I can play anything on this." His smirk deepened as darker thoughts crossed his mind. "And with a little tweaking, I could make a fortune. A little bank hacking here, a little blackmail there… easy money."
Kevin chuckled to himself, imagining the possibilities. But his revelry was interrupted by a faint sound in the distance—a rhythmic, deliberate echo of footsteps approaching the hideout.
His grin disappeared, replaced by a scowl. "Who's there?" he barked, sitting up straight. His eyes scanned the dimly lit tunnel outside the entrance, but he saw nothing.
The footsteps continued, slow and deliberate, growing louder with each passing second.
Kevin's fingers twitched. "I said, who's there?!"
No answer came, only the unrelenting sound of someone—or something—approaching.
Annoyed, and maybe just a little unsettled, Kevin grabbed a battered hockey stick he kept by the entrance. "You picked the wrong place to mess with, pal," he muttered, stepping into the shadows.
He moved cautiously, his sharp eyes scanning every corner of the darkened tunnel. The footsteps seemed to circle him now, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Kevin swung the hockey stick into the air, the sound of the whooshing wood echoing loudly.
"Show yourself!" he growled, his voice echoing into the emptiness.
But when he turned back to his hideout, his stomach dropped. The unpacked phone he'd just been admiring—the one he was planning to hack—was gone.
"What the…?" Kevin muttered, dropping the hockey stick as he approached the spot where the phone had been.
"Who's messing with me?!" he shouted, his voice cracking slightly.
A faint, high-pitched voice answered him from somewhere deep in the shadows. "You shouldn't have stolen…"
Kevin spun around, his fists clenching as his heart began to race. "Come out and face me!" he yelled, trying to sound braver than he felt.
But no one answered. Instead, the eerie voice whispered again, closer this time. "You shouldn't have stolen…"
Kevin felt a chill run down his spine. He turned to his stash, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realized more of his stolen goods were missing. The expensive headphones he'd snagged last week—gone. The designer watch he'd been saving to pawn off—vanished.
"What the hell?!" Kevin snarled, his voice louder now as frustration and fear bubbled inside him. "Where are my things?!"
The voice laughed softly, mocking him. "You're losing everything, Kevin. One by one…"
Kevin grabbed a flashlight, his hands trembling slightly as he shone it into the corners of his hideout. "You think you're funny?!" he yelled, his voice cracking again. "Show yourself, coward!"
The flashlight beam swept over the small space, but there was no one there. And yet, every time he turned back to his stash, more of it was gone. The rare trading cards he'd stolen from a flea market were missing. The shiny bicycle frame he'd been hiding in the corner—gone.
"What's going on?!" Kevin's voice was shaky now, panic creeping into his tone.
"You took what didn't belong to you," the voice said, louder this time. "Now it's all being taken from you."
Kevin swung the flashlight wildly, knocking over an old crate as he stumbled backward. "Okay, okay! Enough with the games!" he shouted.
"You know what you have to do…" the voice whispered, each word sending chills down Kevin's spine.
Kevin's knees hit the floor as he realized the pattern. "You want me to return it all? Fine!" he shouted. "You win! I'll give it all back! Just leave me alone!"
The voice fell silent. The eerie quiet was almost worse than the whispers. Kevin's flashlight trembled in his hands as he scanned the room.
But as he stood up, his fear began to give way to anger. Something wasn't adding up. He was no stranger to tricks, and now that the initial panic was fading, he started to piece things together. Whoever this "ghost" was, they weren't supernatural.
Kevin's sharp eyes darted to the phone booth in the corner, where the faintest shadow flickered behind the glass. He smirked. "Gotcha."
Dropping the flashlight, Kevin moved quickly, circling the booth and catching the figure off guard. He grabbed the person by the collar and spun them around, pinning them against the wall.
The brown-haired, green-eyed boy stared back at him, his wide, fearful eyes betraying the confidence he'd tried to project earlier. The boy's makeshift purple cloak had caught on the door, and the edges of a blank white mask peeked out of his pocket.
"Well, well," Kevin said, his voice low and dangerous. "Looks like the 'ghost' is just some kid."
Ben squirmed in Kevin's grip, his heart pounding as he tried to think of an escape plan.
"You think you're so smart, huh?" Kevin said, tightening his hold on Ben's shirt. "Let's see if your luck favors you now…"
—(~/\~)—
The old subway station reeked of damp concrete and rusted metal, its stale air thick with the echoes of the distant train. Ben Tennyson lay motionless, tied tightly to the cold steel tracks. The coarse, heavy chains dug into his wrists and legs, leaving no room for movement. Sweat trickled down his face as his chest rose and fell, his breaths coming in short, desperate bursts.
Kevin Levin sat a few feet away, lounging in an old, battered chair he'd dragged from some forgotten corner of the station. The glow of his phone illuminated his smirking face as he held it up, recording Ben's predicament. He leaned back, one foot casually propped on a nearby piece of rubble, completely at ease with the chaos he was orchestrating.
"Man, Tennyson," Kevin said with a low chuckle, flipping through Ben's wallet. "You're just full of bad decisions, huh? First, you try to play hero with that stupid ghost act, and now look at you—tied to a rail track, waiting for a train to turn you into mush."
Ben squirmed against the chains, his wrists aching as he struggled to free himself. "You can't be serious!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the station. "You're really going to kill me over a stupid phone?!"
Kevin scoffed, pulling out Ben's ID card and holding it up to the dim light. "Kill you? Relax, kid. I'm not that kind of guy. This is just a little… lesson. You don't mess with Kevin E. Levin."
"Some lesson!" Ben growled, tugging harder at the chains. "Let me go, Kevin! This isn't funny!"
Kevin smirked, setting down Ben's wallet and aiming his phone at him again. "Oh, but it is. And you're making it even funnier with all the begging. Come on, give me something dramatic. Cry for the camera. Say you're sorry."
The faint vibrations of an approaching train began to rattle the tracks beneath Ben. His breath hitched as the low rumble grew louder, its ominous rhythm pounding in his ears.
"This isn't a game!" Ben shouted, panic lacing his voice.
Kevin zoomed in on Ben's terrified face, his grin widening. "Oh, it's definitely a game. And right now, you're losing."
Ben thrashed against the chains, his body twisting as he fought to free himself. But the steel was unyielding, and the more he struggled, the more helpless he felt. His desperation bubbled over into anger as he glared up at Kevin.
"You think you're so smart, don't you?" Ben snapped. "You think you're better than everyone else just because you can unlock doors and steal stuff. You're nothing but a coward!"
Kevin's grin faltered for a moment, but it quickly returned, sharper and more dangerous than before. "A coward, huh? Says the kid tied to a track, waiting for big, bad Kevin to let him go."
"You don't know anything about me!" Ben yelled, his frustration boiling over.
Kevin raised an eyebrow, tilting his phone to capture Ben's full frame. "Oh, I know plenty. You're trying to play hero, trying to impress your family or whatever. But let's be real—you're just some kid who bit off more than he could chew. You're a loser, Tennyson."
Ben froze, Kevin's words hitting harder than he wanted to admit. His struggles slowed as memories flooded his mind—Gwen, effortlessly saving the day with her Omnitrix powers; Grandpa Max, always patient but with a quiet disappointment in his eyes. And then there was Ben, always a step behind, always in the way, always messing up.
Kevin noticed the change and leaned forward, intrigued. "What's the matter, Tennyson? Finally realizing you're useless?"
The words stung, cutting through Ben's chest like a knife. He thought about how many times he'd tried and failed to help, how many times he'd been sidelined, bruised, and beaten. Maybe Kevin was right. Maybe he was useless.
His body went still, his head drooping as he stared blankly at his legs.
Kevin frowned, lowering his phone slightly. "Hey, what's with the silence? You were all fiery a second ago. Cat got your tongue?"
Still, Ben didn't respond.
Kevin stood and walked closer, squatting down beside him. "Aw, don't tell me you've given up already. What's wrong? Did you have a heart attack or something? You didn't wet yourself, did you?"
Ben's silence persisted, his face unreadable.
Kevin scowled, annoyed by the lack of reaction. "You know what? Fine. I wasn't going to kill you anyway. Just wanted to see you squirm." He pulled a small keychain from his pocket, the single key to the shackles glinting under the pale light. "Let's get this over with—"
The key slipped from his fingers.
"No—!" Kevin shouted, watching in horror as it bounced once, twice, and then tumbled into a narrow manhole next to the tracks.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Kevin cursed, dropping to his knees and plunging his hand into the dark opening. The metal edges scraped against his arm as he fumbled blindly for the key.
The train's rumble grew louder, its headlights now visible in the distance. The rails vibrated violently beneath Ben, but he remained unnervingly still.
"Tennyson!" Kevin yelled, his voice rising in panic. "Say something! Don't just lie there!"
Ben didn't move.
Kevin gritted his teeth, shoving his arm deeper into the manhole. "Come on, come on!" he muttered, his fingers brushing against the keychain but failing to grip it.
The train was almost upon them now, its deafening roar shaking the station. Kevin looked up at the headlights, his heart racing as he realized he was out of time.
"Shit!" he yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself for the worst.
The train thundered past, its cars blurring into a cacophony of noise and wind. Kevin clenched his fists, waiting for the sickening sound of impact, the splash of blood and gore that would confirm his worst fears.
But nothing came.
When the train cleared the station, the tracks were empty. The chains that had bound Ben were broken, their links scattered like brittle twigs. And Ben Tennyson was nowhere to be seen.
Kevin opened his eyes, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he stared at the tracks. "What the hell…" he whispered, stumbling to his feet.
The station was eerily quiet now, save for the faint hum of the train disappearing into the tunnel. Kevin turned in a circle, his eyes darting around the shadows, searching for any sign of the boy.
A soft rustling sound came from behind him.
Kevin spun around, his heart leaping into his throat. "Who's there?" he demanded, his voice trembling.
The shadows seemed to shift, taking shape. Kevin squinted, his pulse hammering in his ears as a faint, pink glow illuminated the corner of the station.
And then he saw it.
"Wh—what…?" Kevin stammered, stumbling backward as the figure emerged.
The shape was unmistakable—humanoid, yet not entirely human. Its eyes glowed a haunting pink, its outline shimmering with an otherworldly aura.
Kevin screamed.
—(~/\~)—
The night stretched on as Max and Gwen wandered through the brightly lit streets of the city, their footsteps quick and anxious. The earlier argument between Ben and Gwen replayed in both their minds, but now, regret and worry had replaced frustration.
"Where could he have gone?" Gwen asked, her voice tinged with guilt as she glanced at yet another empty arcade. The faint hum of game machines and laughter mocked her from the inside.
Max adjusted his cap, his jaw tight as he scanned the street. "He can't have gone too far," he said, though his voice lacked its usual certainty. "We've checked all his favorite spots. He's bound to turn up."
But hour after hour passed, and there was still no sign of Ben. They searched the manga stores, where the shopkeepers shook their heads apologetically. The karaoke bars offered no clues, and the bookshops were eerily quiet, as if mocking their efforts.
Max sighed heavily, checking his watch. It was well past midnight, and the streets were beginning to thin out. "We'll try the park," he said finally, his tone firm. "It's close by, and maybe he stopped there to cool off."
Gwen nodded, though her guilt weighed heavier with every step. She replayed the argument in her head, wincing at her own words. 'Why did I have to push him so hard?' she thought, her fists clenched at her sides.
When they reached the park, the streetlamps cast long, eerie shadows over the grass. The paths were nearly deserted, save for the occasional jogger or stray dog. Max and Gwen walked quietly, their eyes scanning the benches and playgrounds.
"Ben?" Max called out, his voice echoing faintly in the still night.
"Ben, are you here?" Gwen added, her voice cracking slightly.
And then, finally, they saw him.
Max's breath caught as he spotted a familiar figure slumped on a bench beneath a flickering lamp. Ben was curled up on his side, clutching his wallet tightly against his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
Max's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank goodness," he muttered, hurrying over to his grandson.
"Ben!" Gwen exclaimed, running after Max.
Max crouched down by the bench, gently shaking Ben's shoulder. "Hey, wake up, kiddo. We've been looking everywhere for you."
Ben stirred, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, he looked disoriented, his gaze darting around the park before settling on Max.
"Kevin!" he blurted out, sitting up suddenly. His wallet nearly fell from his hands as he glanced around wildly. "Where's Kevin?!"
Max frowned, exchanging a confused look with Gwen. "Who's Kevin?"
"The guy who tied me to the rail tracks!" Ben exclaimed, his voice rising. "He—he said he was going to scare me, but then there was a train, and—" He stopped, blinking rapidly. "Wait… did you or Gwen save me?"
Max's frown deepened. "Ben, we've been looking for you all night. You were here, asleep on the bench. Nobody saved you from anything."
Ben stared at Max, his mind racing. "But… I wasn't dreaming. I was in the subway, and Kevin—he tied me up, and then there was this pink light—"
"Ben," Max said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You must've had a nightmare. The argument earlier probably got to you, and your mind played tricks on you."
Gwen stepped closer, her guilt from earlier written all over her face. "Ben, I…" She hesitated, glancing down at the ground. "I'm sorry. For what I said earlier. I shouldn't have pushed you like that."
Ben looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he shrugged, letting out a small sigh. "It's fine. Really."
Gwen blinked, surprised by his quick forgiveness, but she didn't push it. Instead, she gave him a small, relieved smile. "Thanks, Ben."
Max stood, patting Ben on the back. "Let's head back to the Rustbucket. It's late, and we all need some rest, we have a long trip ahead."
Ben nodded, standing up and tucking his wallet back into his pocket. As they walked back through the quiet streets, none of them thought of the newspapers being prepared for the next morning's headlines:
TRAUMATIZED BOY CLAIMS A 'PURPLE GHOST' TORTURED HIM IN SUBWAY!
The story would describe a young thief named Kevin Levin, who had been found babbling incoherently near the subway, claiming to have encountered a terrifying "purple or maybe pink ghost" that had mentally tortured him and destroyed all his loot.
—(~/\~)—
Author Note: Hello!
What do you think of this chapter? It was slightly more enjoyable than the previous one, I hope.
I plan on using some elements from Alien Force and Ultimate Alien in the future but nothing from Reboot or Omniverse.
Thanks for reading this. The next chapter will be released soon.
Drop your thoughts in the review section. Your words motivate me to write better, larger and with more depth.
Till next time!