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Chapter Text

City: Chicago, Illinois

Time: 12:47 PM

Location: Spector Residence

In the bedroom, an overjoyed, yet solemn yet bitter 19-year-old Marc Spector was packing his bags as he stood up; placing all his belongings scattered on his bed into it. He then looked at the left side of his bed, seeing his kippa laying there, a sign of his Jewish background. Still, as angry as he had every right to be, he picked it up nonetheless and put it in his bag.

This was it! 

It's happening.

After all the pain he was forced to carry, he was finally leaving.

All those years ago, he had to deal with the trauma of losing his dear special brother Randall, in that cave. It's bad enough he felt guilty for that terrible incident, dragging his vulnerable little brother in that life-changing damn cave, but his mother Wendy Spector dares say that he wanted to "kill him"?! Seriously? How dare she!

Yes, he was naïve and stupid for entering that cave. It was one thing to say that it was his fault, as she had the right to as she cruelly implied. But he was just a kid, curiosity is so high at a young age. However, to say that he was always jealous of Randall, saying on his 12th birthday, that was crossing a line as a parent.

The only person who ever celebrated his birthdays was his father Elias Spector, who didn't blame him at all (yet didn't lift a finger to help his son, when his wife abused and beat him). For the love of his life to demonize their only remaining son, it's quite pathetic and cruel, but he was just as spineless as he did not do a thing to protect his son or help her. Marc was the one who was to watch Randall drown! Him, Marc Spector!

And by the way, what could be so special about Randall that Marc would go out of his way to kill him? And seriously, did he even really know what murder was at that age?! Well anyway, it doesn't matter now, Wendy will never stop believing in her lies. Her son's guilty and self-loathing conscience meant nothing, all she could ever see now was an "envious" monster.

And ultimately, Marc finally didn't care anymore. If she was going to continue believing the self-delusion and perceive him as a psychopath, then he might as well have drowned in that cave.

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Once Marc had all his belongings, he took his jacket and put it on. He then reached for a certain slip that was in his cupboard. "I hope you're satisfied now, mum." He said to himself as he looked at his enlistment slip, with his left-hand curling up into a fist. 

Tears of anger and pain poured from his eyes, he couldn't help but imagine 10 ways to hurt his mother for what she did. But unlike her, he knew better, always considering what her mother never could then or now;

He's not the only one suffering.

All these years, he had to put up with her twisted grief. Just like his father, for a time, (with every bruise from the belt, a slap on the face or a kick to the ribs), he always hoped that she would get through eventually, but not anymore. If Randall's death was so bad enough that she would blame and abuse the only remaining son she has, then it won't matter if he's gone too.

This is why he eagerly took the chance as he was now a teenager, finally old to make his own choices.

He was enlisting into the US military, and why? Because now, all he can ever feel was emptiness, he wished to find a purpose in his life. The day he led his brother into that cave and how Randall's good intentions of exploring had cost him his life, Marc didn't want anyone else to go through that again. No more mistakes, always extreme caution. No more loss of life, especially those that mean no harm.

But at the same time, he also began to think about how his actions might affect the other persona that he had created to cope with his trauma at his mother's hand; the optimistic, shy genius, Steven Grant. Wait, why should he worry at all? As much he wanted to distance from what his insane mother had to put him through, Marc courageously always took control from Steven preventing him from ending up as damaged as he is.

As a result, Marc knew Steven's lack of memory of having an abusive parent, (only remembering the sweet and caring person she used to be) his said personality would finally get the chance to live a normal life. Steven was incredibly smart, more moral than Marc himself (no grey areas), kinder, and who knows might gain loads of friends or girls (lmao) with his intelligence.

So, he made up his mind. Steven must not know about this, no matter what.

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With that, Marc was prepared. He then quickly headed to the mirror to check himself; any dry skin, plaque in his teeth etc. But he always had to be sure, so he applied a finger of lotion on his face, with the pure white cream moisturising his sweat pores and sinuses. He looked at himself one more time and hoped for the best he'll get through life and find meaning.

Uh, damn it! He forgot his Jewish necklace, and he stressfully stormed out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom to fetch it... But not before angrily switching off the light as he marched off, which caused the light to flicker intensely.

But unbeknownst to him, a mysterious figure was lurking behind his reflection in the mirror. Something that had a taken a certain... Interest. It was tall, had a bird head, covered in bandages and the lights sparkled.

It has been watching Marc for quite a while and it was fascinating by his intense code and hatred toward the unjust suffering of the innocent.

"Mmm, fascinating. However,... in due time." The entity thought and it disappeared, blending into the white walls of the bathroom, to which the lights finally stopped flickering. But why? What was so special about this abused, fractured human?

Time: 13:05PM

After quietly closing his bedroom door behind him, slightly frustrated by the packaging noises his backpack was making, Marc made his way to leave his family home by slowly walking through the pathway that led to the room he shared with his treasured brother RoRo. He did not have the nerve to put up with his mum's guilt-tripping.

He tried to sneak down as quietly as he could but with each step, the wooden planks that made up the floor kept squeaking and squeaking. Heck, he even tried tiptoeing through. But no the wooden planks just had to complain

CreekCreekCreekCreekCreekCreek. Uh, so annoying!

Whilst, Marc continued to make his step as quietly as possible so his parents won't notice that he left, he slowly turned around to look at his room.

Aside from Steven, who he knew would become the best out of the two of them, Marc momentarily wondered if going to the military really is the right choice. Well, It's not like he's going to be in the trenches, but Marc is gonna face a lot of trauma; he'll have to do terrible things for the right reasons, watch as his comrades and friends die, have near-death experiences and face difficult challenge to step up, pressures to become stronger and smarter for the benefit of his allies.

Ok, hang on. Yes, pressures, near-death experiences. But if anyone is going to talk about trauma, that'll be like sticking pins into a teddy bear in Marc's case. In a way, (when it comes to fighting for the worthless and pathetic) his mother gave him a gift; hatred for injustice.

Turning around again, Marc made his way to the stairs, still hearing the creaking noises of the floor, he felt like he wanted to blow a fuse.

CreekCreekCreekCreekCreekCreek. Finally, silence as he made his way to the staircase, still that could almost just as noisy.

Taking no chances, Marc then stomped slowly down the stair, thinking about the side benefit of the choice is had made. Once his foot was placed on the last step of the stairs, Marc took a moment and walked around the living room, remembering how happy his family used, almost hallucinating in his flashbacks.

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Nine Years Ago

It was RoRo's eighth birthday, and while he was busy drawing in the living room, Wendy would prepare family meals for them, her dear younger son. He would always rush over to hug her leg in gratitude after smelling the sweet pleasing aroma of the noodles, French fries and other fatty food. Which were followed by a huge turkey (to eat later) that had the sweet acidic taste of lemon juice that was squeezed on it.

"Okay. Okay. That's enough RoRo, I get it, I put a lot into my cooking." Wendy... laughed. Yes, that's right... The accusing, abusive Wendy Spector was smiling and laughing.

Even she had her moments.

"But really! You're so good at his, mommy." Randall replied wholeheartedly.

"I know. I know... I'm flattered. But it's obvious, you'd say it." She replied, before playfully rolling her eyes. Then she called. "Dear! Marc! Foods ready!" She called out."

In response, a much younger and lively Elias rushed in from the garden and into the kitchen, to put food on the table in the living room, who was followed by a much younger Marc, who was helping his father with the gardening and went to joke around with his brother in the living room.

"Okay, coming, dear!" He called, Sprinting. "Seriously, don't you want to do it yourself? You don't like feminine stereotypes." He joked.

Wendy smiled. "Oh, you know better than that." She purred as she wrapped her arms around the neck of her struggling husband as he held the plates of food in his hands. "It's not about clichés, it's about loyalty." And placed a deep kiss on his lips.

At a distance, Randall and Marc were playfully disgusted that their own parents would show their display of affection in front of them. With Randall feeling he wanted to gag, Marc just immediately looked away.

"Arghh, no. Come on!" Moaned Randall, shaking their heads. "Mom! Not in front of us 

But Marc told his cringed-out brother. "Tell me about it, RoRo." Then added. "But... They're not listening." He immediately deduced.

Hearing Randall's disgust in their open display of affection, Wendy walked over to the table as they too made their way. "Hey, you will have a girlfriend one day, little boy. Let's see how you like it if I did all the gagging." She smiled with a small chuckle.

"But, Mommy!" Randall replied. "We're too young to know that." He frowned, as he got up onto the family table.

"Gotta agree with RoRo on this one." Eli joked as he placed the food on the table, waiting for his wife's reaction. "Love is found, not learned." He laughed.

Wendy's eyes widened in slight annoyance. "Hey, who's side are you on?" She asked making a frantic Eli jokingly run off to get the juice from the kitchen. Then she turned to her eldest stoic son, Marc. "Come on, Marc. You're old enough to know about relationships, you're with me on this one, right?" She asked teasingly.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. We've gotta be prepared, right?" The young Marc replied reluctantly, holding his knife and fork in his hand, making Wendy say a simple "Ha." in Randall's face, only for his brother to give him a the side-eye, only for him to shrug.

"Marc. Seriously?" Randall asked raising an eyebrow.

"Hey." Marc simply answered. "One supports dad, one agrees with mom." He states to which Randall decided to let it go and end the conversation, right on time as Eli comes with RoRo's birthday cake. Marc watched happily as Randall excitingly clapped his hands, can't wait to blow out those candles and sink his penny-sized teeth in the sugary coating of the cake.

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Current Day

Suddenly, much to his disappointment, Marc's attention was forcibly returned to reality as the ghosts of the past, (how happy his family was) faded from his eyes. To him, this was one of Marc's most favourite memories, he was never a big fan of attention and always felt so joyful (well... Inwardly) that someone else can be get be in the spotlight every once in a while. The supporter, the protector; deep down that was the kind of person Marc was,...

who he intends wanted to be. Maybe, just maybe, he still would have decided to join the military regardless. His mom was deluded to believe he would go out of his way to kill his own brother.

He then walked around the living room table one more time and placed his hand on the smooth carvings of the table. Then he stroked the chair that his brother was in, still looking at the magnificent patterns on the table, but he couldn't go for more than two minutes without tearing up; whether he was blaming himself for what happened or his rage towards his mother for demonizing him. He couldn't even decide which one of his resentful feelings in his shattered silver heart is or isn't acceptable.

Eventually, Marc steeled himself and wiped his tears and let go of the chair Randall sat in. He'll never forget the persistent, adventurous smile on his little brother's face. "Goodbye, RoRo." He whispered with his finger finally unhooking for the chair from where the boy sat. 

And with that, Marc was ready to leave to find his true purpose; to vindicate to protect the innocent and the vulnerable. Every fragile person like his late brother deserved a chance to grow to become stronger and more formidable, and he believed that his time at the force will give him the experience to do just that. He has nothing left to lose now, though still has a code, if his mother was going to treat him like a monster, then he will be one to protect the pathetic from people like her!

With that motivation, Marc decided to walk out reluctantly not even giving his father (who allowed his mother to be such a monster) a final goodbye. He then walked up to the entrance to the door, with him only hesitant a bit about leaving, standing a few feet from the door in front of them. Marc took a deep breath for a moment and decided he made his choice, walking up to the door slowly so his parents won't know he left.

Well, not that his father could stop him anyway. Sure, he doesn't blame him for Randall's death and most surprisingly always celebrated his birthday when his mother couldn't. But that wasn't enough to help ignore the pain he had been through. He was about to open the door and finally leave until suddenly, he heard a commotion in the kitchen. For a moment, Marc paused his attempt to exit his parents' life and wondered what was going on.

Wait a minute, aren't his parents supposed to be in their bedroom asleep right now? And was... was his father angry?

Again slowly carefully, Marc walked through the living room and placed his bag down on the floor. Deciding to eavesdrop on his parents' conversation, the young Jewish boy sat on the sofa seven feet from the kitchen.

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Location: Kitchen

In the misplaced and disorganised kitchen of the Spector family, a drunken and still deluded Wendy Spector was cleaning the dishes, looking out of the windows with her red baggy eyes. As a small tear from her eye, Wendy wiped with her sleeve; she tried to raise Marc as best as she could and now out of jealousy, just killed her favourite son? After everything, this is how the older son returns the favour for being a good parent.

Meanwhile leaning against the cupboard behind her, Eli with staring at his completely insane wife at a distance and crossing his arms, watching with resentment as she continues to exercise believing her own lie that Marc had killed Randall. Right now, Eli was at his breaking point. He knew what he did was wrong by letting Wendy abuse their only remaining son, but he was only because he was scared of worsening her condition.

But no. And right now, Eli then realised exactly what the problem was. Wendy was now so twisted, she just couldn't accept that the death of her dear RoRo was just an accident but he didn't find it surprising. Everyone who grieves the loss of a loved one and always tries to find the reason for their misery. But this... This was different.

Then what was the point of him standing here? Trying to calm her down? Well, it's simple that's the many flaws of love; unending faith and optimism.

"So..." Said Wendy as she washed her tea mugs. "Are you just going to lean there?" She asked, not even bothering to look at the spineless coward that was her husband.

Gritting his teeth with sadness and deep with resentment in himself, Eli intensely. "Wendy. Don't you have... " He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before uncrossing his arms. "....anything to tell him?" He asked, trying to reason with her again. Perhaps it was his only way of keeping her family together.

Once Wendy finished doing the washing, she turned around to face Eli, but not before getting a bottle of millbeck and pouring some into a mug. "What's there to talk about?" She asked, looking into her cup as she took a sip, before looking back at her husband. "It's still not enough. He hasn't learned his lesson." Takes the mug from her lips and swallows the alcohol

"Not enough... Okay. So, not enough for him, or not enough for you?" Eli asked pointing at her intensely, taunting her to be more specific. He then scoffed under his breath that even now she could justify abusing Marc.

Angered Wendy placed the cup on the kitchen counter and pointed. "I told him." She growled. "I warned him to not to go in that cave..." She gulped down as she remembered the moment. "He even took his brother!"

The reasonable husband gently slammed his hand on the counter. "Okay, yes, you're right! Marc was completely reckless and naive going in there!" He shouted, he walked paced up and down as his mentally unstable wife looked at him in revolt for arguing with her. "But he was just a kid." 

 But Wendy immediately pointed with her finger spitefully at her husband. "No. No, I do not want to hear that excuse anymore." She barked. "He knew I loved RoRo more." Picks up her mug of Malbec and sips more. "Marc was always the most posturing out of all of us."

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As Marc listen to the conversation sitting on the sofa in the living room, he bit his bottom lip with disgust, resentment and the first time (maybe possibly) hatred.

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Hearing such unproven and untrue demonisation of his son, Eli was completely shocked. "He wasn't like that, and you know it!" He then paced making hand gestures. "Yes, Marc was the type of kid would try to impress. But all kids to that, and he didn't care that his younger brother was in the goddamn spotlight." He then lowered his tone as his wife looked away. "Wendy, I've been trying to keep us together. But even now, you think this is what he wanted. Our family! The Spectors in pieces." Almost felt like crying but held it in.

Seemingly calming down, Wendy looked away for a moment looking at the fridge with her baggy red eyes. "I... I don't know what to think or believe right now, Elias." She admits to her husband. "But I cannot believe his words. Any of it."

Believing it to be a sign of hope, Eli stepped forward toward her and placed his hands on her, forearms compassionately. "Then believe me then, Dear." He asked.

As he tried to get her to think good about their only remaining son, he wasn't lying about what he said. Even he was haunted by that day, not only by the news of how his youngest son drowned but how Marc felt about his unsuccessful rescue. He could still remember the horrible self-loathing in his son's eyes when he ran into his father's arms, wishing it could've been him instead. That was when Eli knew he at least tried, at least he (Marc) didn't make any attempts to defend his idea of going into that cave despite the fact there was a clear reason; he was just a kid.

That's what made Eli maintain his high thought of his son, why didn't let his grief cloud his judgement. Marc knew no matter how bad the idea was if it turned out good or bad, he was all too aware he was reckless as he went along with it. Eli then walked Wendy to the kitchen chair and went down on one knee (in front of her) to desperately make her look beyond her own and acknowledge Marc's pain.

He then began to speak once more but more intensely. "If you can't take his words, then listen to me then." He continued. "You should've seen the look on his face, he was horrified. I don't think he knew what death was." He said slightly breaking eye contact. "Wendy, please. I miss him too. But Marc is feeling worse, RoRo was right in front and he was powerless. Not a day by does he not wish could've done more." He said holding her hand.

But she began shaking her head in denial. "No. No. No!"

He then looked at her with more angrier look. "So... So wake up, for goodness sake. Marc. Didn't. Kill. RoRo!" He spoke out very bluntly. "He didn't kill him!" 

Immediately, she stood with her instantly forever increased and her mental state was damaged further. "Then you didn't love him enough, I refuse to accept it!" She screams hysterically. "He did. He killed him, out of spite. Evil spite!" Then calming down once more, making it clear to her husband that she'll never crack open the cage she put herself in.

Tearfully, as they stood up, the father then turned away, placing his hands on the counter and groaned at her stubbornness. But then, he noticed something on his left, a paper. Oh, yes, now he remembers, his nightmare coming true. Marc was enlisting! Elias then pulled the slip off the dry surface and waved it in her face. "Fine. Don't believe me." He exclaimed. "But if not me, stop what he's becoming."

A drunken Wendy snatched the slip of his hand and read a bit of it. She then scoffed and rolled her eyes. Of course, he would do it. Any little rascal would do it. "So, he's enlisting into the force." She then threw the paper behind her. "So what?"

"You're pushing him away, this is what he decided to believe in." The upset Eli picked it up and answered. "And for the "So what?" He might end up torn, or broken..." Took a deep breath as didn't want to even think about that scenario. "Or dead."

"Perhaps he's following his dreams. I guess, guess his brother's blood wasn't enough." She smiled and laugh in her drunken stupor.

"No, you broke him, Wendy. He's all with we have left." He spoke clenching his fist. "Yes we have cousins and cousins in-laws, but what good is that without our children?" He spoke, and moved his face inches towards her face, making her look away. "You've made this... This... his way of coping with what he failed to do."

But she didn't even bother and replied. "Or, maybe his finally embraced who he always wanted to be." She cruelly theorised. "Ever since he was born... a murderer." And picked up the alcohol and drank it bare from the bottle.

Suddenly, they both hear a dry wit question from beyond the kitchen door. "Is that so?" The voice asked.

The Spector couple looked out each and calmly walked towards the door. Eli thought that Marc was still asleep up in his room, to cope with his wife's recent abuse. But it was pretty clear now, and that he had literally failed as a father.

As he pulled the door slowly, they both stood solemnly as they see their bitter and resentful son Marc Spector sitting on the sofa staring at the TV, unable to look at his mother without having the thought of cutting himself, or his father without having the overwhelming urge to punch a wall. They were both initially confused as the TV wasn't on, but in truth, Marc was hallucinating the past again. Once that faded, his eye turned around the corner to look at them but didn't turn his head.

"M... Marc." Eli stuttered a little bit. "How long have you been sitting there, son?" He asked.

Steeling himself a little bit, Marc replied. "A while, not like anyone would care." He answered. He then stood and stared at them with intense eyes and gave a sarcastic round of applause. "Wow, Dad. "You've made this... his way of coping." Didn't know you could ever stand for me, or anyone for that matter." He scoffed.

Out of nowhere, Wendy pointed at the boy, standing for her. "You watch your tone, Marc." She spat. "Show some respect."

"Respect? Respect?" Unable to control himself, Marc chuckled so hard. "Do you honestly think you're the first person on anyone's mind to lecture me about respect?"

"What did you say?!" Wendy growled but was also kind of satisfied. As in her mind, Marc has finally shown his true colours.

Desperate to stop the conflict, Eli try stepped in-between them to end the conflict. "Wendy, please, sto....!" He pleaded until he was cut off by his son to spare him the trouble of having to fight the person he fell in love with. The woman that he married.

"No, no, no, no. Let her, Dad." Marc said raising a hand then shifted eye contact to his twisted mother. "You, wanna talk about respect? Fine, try it!" He shouted. He clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth furiously.

Eli marches forward to try and calm Marc down, thinking he was going to do something he might regret, like fighting his own mom. Why wouldn't he? Given the fact, that the mother views her own son as a narcissistic demon. He tries to hold Marc back, holding tightly onto his son's shoulder with pleading but strict eyes beaming into the abused teen. But Marc holds onto his father's arms calmly and looks back. "Marc, don't do this, please." He said.

Marc then whispered. "Hey, I'm gonna not fight her." He said, looking back up to his father, who had a little sceptical look in his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "It's alright, Dad. I got this." He assured his father, despite him not having lifted a finger to help him in his time of misery.

With Eli stepping out of the way, only willing to step in if things get out of hand.

And so the conflict began between mother and son, as they stared at each other with bitterness and hatred as walked around in circles on each side of the living room. One was justified, and the other was completely self-serving. For every second she looked at her son, looking back now, in her mindset, Wendy regretted giving birth to such a monster. She literally would have died in the hospital had she given birth to him. No! Marc wasn't a baby, he was a parasite, sadistically eating away at her that from the inside out, a tumour shapeshifted into human form. Whatever he is, he is not the result of her romantic night with her husband.

She only had one son Randall Spector and he's dead. Perhaps this was Marc's revenge plot from the very beginning, for not being able to finish feasting on her flesh in her belly for the parasite that he was. Chewing on her intestines or maybe a side order of her glucose. To put it straight the thing known as Marc Spector standing in front of her is not her son. 

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As Marc stared at supposedly the only reason he was born in this world, he felt like his very lungs were on fire. He'd give anything to throw the memory of the fact he persuaded his happy-go-lucky brother into that cave, into the bin. Again, he thought about probably 10 or more ways to try and hurt her, birthdays were not enough! Heck, he was even abused on his birthday. Since that day, he was in a living hell and not because of the beatings or ever-present belt scars on his back, but because no one could give him a chance to prove he was (on some level) a good person.

So, their argument began with the drunken Wendy. "You know I got intense stomach cramps after you were "born"." She explained to try and hurt him, but Eli look at her with such an alienated look. She swore she would not tell Marc. "Two days later, the doctor told me you might have... abnormal brain activity, that you wouldn't control your emotions. But I didn't listen... and in my ignorance, I lose a son. My most precious son is killed." And scowled right at him.

Marc then looked to his father right behind who said nothing. He then turned away and sniggered at his mother's inability to accept another side to a tragic story. "Okay." He whispered, not surprised she'd stooped that low. "You know what's really sad?" He asked. "I'll jog your drunken memory for you. Marc grit his teeth and continued. "It was... two days since I "killed" RoRo. And I tried to stay fast sleep all day because I still heard you crying..." Then slowly looked at his father with grief in his eyes. Eli clearly saw he was hurt too. "Dad was trying to comfort you. He grieved, but wasn't as deep as yours." He recounted

But then his mother cut him off. "Yeah, thanks for that." Wendy said sarcastically.

"Just listen, mom!" Marc barked, trying to recount his darkest memory. He took a deep breath slowly and continued. First looking down at the floor then face his mother again.

But then he paced up and down, as he talked. But then stopped to stare at her, ten feet away from her.

"When we were preparing two weeks for his Shiva, I stayed in my room for both, after hearing you two crying, not once did I come out." Marc continued. "Breakfast, no lunch or dinner. Every morning at 6 am, while you two sleeping, I'd sneak into the kitchen to only take breakfast, without you or dad seeing me." A tear of grief and emptiness swelled from his eye. This made Eli shake his head at how stubborn she was being. Doubting her own son's humanity like this.

"I... I just couldn't bear to see either of you like that." He explained.

But even that wasn't enough for enough to convince Wendy he indeed felt bad about the incident. Instead rolling her eyes in disbelief. Crocodile tears probably. "Then what?" She asked bluntly.

Suddenly a boiling fire rose from Marc as continued, as his eyes of grief and sadness changed to eyes of pain and desire for vindication. "But... unsurprisingly. It wasn't until a day before the Shiva." Then he pointed strictly at Eli. "That dad came into my room, as I cried with self-hatred, (despite him grieving too), and asked me what happened to RoRo in that cave." He said. "But you didn't. Yet, I wiped the fact off the brush of my shoulder..."

Marc then paused and humbly admitted. "Even when you screamed at me, during his Shiva that was my fault. Decided to give you more time." He took a deep breath and rested his case for a moment.

"It's true Wendy." Eli said trying to convince her a little further, hoping that just for once she would try to understand.

But he only gained a vicious. "Stay out this!" From Wendy, then turned back to Marc as he continued his sob story. "So... What's the point?" She asked.

This made the Jewish boy gasp with shock and utter contempt, smiling bitterly. "The point?!" The point?!" Marc yelled. "I gave you all the time and space to cope with what happened, even after the Shiva. But not once did you ask me what went down that day!" He felt he was about to tear up, but no. No, Marc will not her that satisfaction. "It didn't take long for dad to just come to me and ask what happened, and he was still in tears. Why didn't you?!" Marc yelled.

The drunken mother then replied. "Because in a way, what you did, opened my eyes. To who you really are." Wendy sniggered taking another sip of her alcohol.

"Wendy! That's enough." The reasonable father yelled. Eli couldn't deal with it, Marc was trying to explain without excuses, but his dear wife still wishes to live in her cage of denials.

 "You honestly believe I wanted him to drown in that damn cave? I tried to save him, I tried! Even hearing it from Dad, you're still like this. And yet, you have the absolute shameless gall to tell me I don't respect him." He scoffed looking up and down at his mom. "All of this evidence and you still think I wanted a taste of that young blood." 

"Well... You're not making the case any better for yourself. Considering you decided to enlist." She replied looking at the failure of her son. She then snatched the enlistment slip from her husband's hand and threw it at Marc's feet.

"Oh, okay. Because you having an intense game of football with my head, and whipping me like I'm a donkey is soooo much better for a healthy mindset." Said Marc sarcastically, making his mother's blood boil with anger. "Oh, I got a recorder with me. You want to hear my best screams, as the belt slashes my flesh?" Marc taunted. He's just kidding, Marc's not a masochist. Does Wendy honestly think that just because he felt so bad, he wanted that kind of punishment?

"Marc, you've made your point." Eli said stepping in finally feeling without this conversation has gone too far.

"That's it! You disgusting little..." Wendy immediately lashed at out Marc in an attempt to hurt him, but Elias immediately restrained her

Luckily for a nice guy like Eli, he was very strong for a man his age, as Wendy struggles to break free from his grasp. "Wendy, calm down." He said.

But she wasn't listening. "No let me at him!" Wendy screamed hysterically, trying to break free of her husband's well-intentioned attempt to restrain her, as Marc struggled to stop the small grin growing on his face.

Finally calming down, Wendy began crying, breaking free from Eli's arms and trying to guilt-trip Marc. "This is all because of you!" She ranted. "Our family used to be filled with happiness, joy, passion. We acknowledged each other! Me and your father, my family and his are all suffering and it's all because you can't contain your petty childish envy or RoRo!" She screamed, and all Eli could do was stand there, she was completely different. "My heart is in agony! I AM BROKEN, MARC!"

"YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT?!?!?!" Marc exploded furiously. "SO AM I!!!" Well... that was satisfying, he wanted to do that for a long time. This resentful outburst immediately frightened both of his parents. Suddenly outside the sky temporarily turned dark outside, that happened to the incident Marc roared, which surprised both of his parents.

To check Eli immediately went to the window, and to his surprise in the sky he saw a partial eclipse, in the dark and cloudy sky. Suddenly when his son took deep breaths and calmed down the the eclipse quickly passed like a football being rolled into a net, surprising everyone outside that's for the slight glimpse. After it passed, Marc was confused and haunted, did he do that? Did he make the sky change? But then he shook his head, Nah. No way he could have that kind of power. Afterwards, Eli faced turned to face Marc, only for his son to shrug as he had no idea what happened. 

And it might not happen again.

Now back to the argument, Wendy crossed her arms at such a disrespectful tone her "son" had just given. What right does he have to bark like that? She's the parent, not him. "You watch your mouth, Marc. I'm warning you." She said solemnly.

Amazingly, there was still a part of Marc that believed she would finally listen to reason. "Mom... please. I didn't want him to get hurt." He pleaded. "I have spent all these years focusing on your pain, your grief, your suffering." He said slowly stepping forward. "But you never stopped to think, how I wished I could've done more. How my strengths meant nothing." Marc tried to explain with open arms.

"Look, Mom, I'll tell you everything that happened. If you just listen, please, I'm your s..." He tried to reason until she immediately snapped like she tore off the last of her brain cells.

"No, you're not my son. You cursed." Wendy spat. "You wanna enlist? Fine. Dive on a grenade, blow yourself for all I care." She turned, wanting to walk away from the entire conversation, holding the alcohol bottle in her hand.

Stubbornly, Marc tries one more time. One! More! Time! "Mom, just listen to me!" He pleaded. "For once, just for once in your life, just listen to me. I didn't kill Ro... !" He tried to storm over and almost grabbed his mother by the shoulder to make her face him and listen, only to receive a bruise to the cheek as she turned around and punched her son, making him collapse on the floor, and kicked the Marc so hard, he stumbled across the floor.

With this Wendy had gone completely mas as Marc dared to say his name. "Don't you dare say his name!" She screamed rabidly. "You disgusting, dirty-faced..." Fueled by her rage, Wendy went on to try and attack her beaten son again, only for her dear husband Eli to try and restrain her.

"Wendy, stop! That's enough!" He screamed struggling to hold the insane shell of a woman he fell in love with. Damn, she's stronger than she looks!

Not having the nerve to scream at her husband anymore, Wendy went out of her way and bit Eli's arm, making his scream in pain forcing him to releasing her. Marching toward the crippled body of her son, she continued. "I never said this once, but I'll say it anyway." She said ghastly and went on to kick her son, repeatedly in the stomach at his writhes on the floor, saying over and over. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!!!"

All evidence has made it clear to Marc that his mother didn't love him anymore yet still couldn't fight back, and watched furiously as his father stood by and watches as Wendy beats like a Pitbull that needed to be put down. Marc begins choking up on his blood (yes he's a teenager, soon becoming a man) but he can't do it, he can't attack his mom! 

Then Wendy quickly walked over to get a broom and repeatedly hit Marc with it. Finally, having enough, Marc's irises went completely white as his mind split again, now creating a new personality ready to fight those with the same violence that hurt Marc... - the raging, cunning and violent - Jake Lockley!

"I curse the day you were born!" Wendy growled. She was about to hit him again, but Jake quickly reacted with superhuman speed, grabbing onto the broom and pushing his mother back with brute strength, making her fly across the living room. He then stood up with a grin, covering the unbelievable dark, justified resentment in his soul.

Trying to step in, Eli tries to stop his son. "Marc, that's it! It's okay!" He said standing in front of his wife. Of course, he was willing to step in to defend his wife physically, yet he backs up Marc with only words, his pathetic is that?! 

But in response, Jake grabbed his father by the jumper and furiously threw him to the side like he was a ragdoll. "Marc's not here, Papá." He taunted angrily. Then he grabbed Wendy by the dressing gown and pinned her to the wall, ready to take his first punch at her for all she's done. "Bien vale. A ver cómo te gusta, mamá!" He roared.

"Go on then, be the monster we all know you are." Wendy goaded sadistically. Jake was ready to punch her, just for once. However...

"Marc, no! Don't!" Eli screamed in a desperate plea.

Suddenly, Jake immediately blacked out as Marc was instantly called back to the surface. He then looked in utter shock as he saw his hand held tightly at his mother's shoulder, pinned her against the wall and noticed his left fist raised to print her face with his knuckle. "Wh... What did I...?" Marc asked shocked and stepped back, making Wendy collapsed on the floor.

Once the conflict died down, Eli, of course, crawled over to his wife as their son stood over them semi-victorious of the fight. He then looked up at Marc. "Marc..." He said that was all he could say.

Finally, Marc had enough. He then walked over to the centre of the living room, grabbed his bag, turning around to face the door as he was finally leaving. But before he could turn the doorknob, he speak to his mom, without looking at her. "I'll never be like you. No matter what problems I have, I'll never point the finger or take my problems out on others..." He then turned around and looked down at his parents, his dad comforting his mom, prioritising her well-being, as always. 

He then walked back over to them and crouched down to her face, deciding to taunt her one more time, before he leaves. "Don't wanna listen? Fine, continue believing I killed him." Marc says intensely to his mother. "Wollow in your self-pity for all I care. Stay in your cage of denials. But don't try to lock me in one too." This left Wendy speechless as it made her turn away unable to look at him. Oh,... Is she feeling remorse? Well, that doesn't matter anymore.

"Marc! Marc wait!" Eli pleaded. But Marc wasn't listening.

And with that, Marc stood back up and walked off, taking his bag and storming away from his parents, turning the doorknob and deserting them.

Seeing her husband still cared about Marc, Wendy grabbed his hand to try and stop him from pursuing their son. "Hey, let him go, dear." She suggested.

But now, Eli could feel Marc's anger and tugged his wrist out of his wife's grip. "I think you have done enough talking today, don't you?" He said only for her to roll her eyes before he stormed out of the house to persuade his son to come back.

5 Minutes later 

Out of relief that he's old enough to make his own choices, yet still couldn't extinguish the flame of anger in his soul, Marc breaks through his fear of uncertainty in his mind as he walked further and further from his home. Instead of walking down the pathway, he walked down the deserted road, breathing in the fresh air. Suddenly much to his annoyance, his father caught up with him.

"Marc, son. Please come inside." Eli pleaded. "She will get help." Only to receive no reply from his son, almost as if Marc didn't know he was there. 

The further the Spectors walked from the house, the more desperate Eli sounded. "We will fix this!" 

"YOU were supposed to fix this," Marc replied infuriated. "I'm mean... why haven't you?" It's like come on, 9 years of beatings, verbal abuse and living hell and he has the nerve to mention that now his mother needs help. He then stopped to face his father. "It's a bit too late for that, Dad."

But Eli refused to give up. "You know what your mom's going through." He said. "Just give her patience."

Upon hearing this, Marc scoffed and tried not to laugh. "Re-Really, haven't you listened to a single word I said?" He asked. "I gave her all the space she needed, but instead she repays the favour with a kick to my stomach."

"She's hurt, son. She's a parent, we both are." Eli said.

"What about my pain? He was right beneath me and i couldn't pull him up." Marc cried. "I have to deal with the fact that I couldn't save him or help anyone for that matter. And you just stood there while she..." Marc paused. "Maybe I couldn't help him, but every other weakling I will meet, deserves a chance. A chance to be strong."

However, Eli reminded. "But I celebrated your birthday. Every birthday." He placed his hands on his only son's shoulders. "You know, I don't blame you for what happened."

But Marc reminded. "Yet, at the end of every one of them, she'd do it again. You, didn't get a therapist, a doctor... nothing." He wrestled his Eli's hands off of him. "Doesn't my grief mean anything to you?" 

With this, Eli couldn't answer.

Under a quick presumptuous rage, Marc rolled eyes. "Oh, I see. So, my... agony, is her cure, isn't it? I get it now." Marc immediately, turned around to walk away, but his father grabbed on to his backpack.

"Marc, please. Don't go!" He pleaded.

"Let go of me. Damnit, get off! No!!!!" Marc grabbed his father's arms and pulled his hands off his being.

Eli then begged and pleaded with his only remains son left. "I can't lose another son, please." He knew it was pointless but hoped that his son would be afraid of the estrangement.

"Look, Dad... I'll." Marc then paused and held a thought. "Look here's my phone number, I'll... call you every time I return from a mission, okay? I'll live, that's a benefit of anger (makes men strong), right?" Marc asked. Eli then removed his hands from his son's head and realised there was no point pleading anymore. "Look, I'm sorry about RoRo. And I'm sorry that Mom is grieving. But I'm not sorry for who she is now."

"I understand." Eli replied.

"Now you can help her. Beating me won't be the answer anymore. Sorry, I can't stay here." Marc encouraged, and patted his father on the shoulder. "Goodbye, Dad." He said with a bitter shudder and he turned around and left, leaving his devastated father standing in the street.

Marc's POV:
"And then that was it. I left, despite my father's pleading."

"I think was the turning point for me, the moment I almost attacked my mom, stood up to her, in her face. Perhaps this is a trait necessary to becoming a soldier, to do the right thing. Someone who would hurt anyone who commits such heinous and repulsive acts against innocent people.... Even family. I always tried to tell myself, "Yeah, she had it coming, after what she did to me. What Steven should never know." I gave up on trying to heal her, and I attacked her out of spite. *Crying*. But why? Why, did I bother trying to do so?! Why?!."

"But regardless, what did? Attacking my own mother? Inexcusable. But what I already faced was this, she was beyond my help or dad's. But the people I'm gonna help when I enlist, those who deserve a chance. No more lives we will be lost, like RoRo's. Or end up becoming as demented as my mother was, try and save them from themselves. They say those who have been abused tend to become abusers themselves. But, no, I won't become that. I will not become that. I swear it!"

Jake's POV
"Yeah, attacked my mom, so what? nueve años, 9 years of hell, papá could have helped her, but he just stood by like a coward and watched me, Lo siento Marc getting get whipped like a dog that needed to be out down. She had no excuse, to beat him to cope with her grief. Still, with this mercy Marc has had around, it's gonna get him matado , killed, I must protect him. I won't show mercy to people like those, who put Marc through this. I'll give them a small taste of the pain they inflicted on those weaker than them."

"Though I don't think Marc will approve, besides he's the pragmatic memo type. Plus, two asesinos in one body is bad enough, Steven doesn't need to be the same. I think it's best I stay hidden until the time is right. There will be lines Marc won't cross, but if those escoria of the earth think that Marc's patience is a weakness, they'll know the pain in store, when I'll climb to the damn surface. This will be fun!"

As Marc continued to walk step by step, leaving his devastated father in the middle of the street, unbeknown to him the entity was watching the whole thing. "Now that's a boy worthy of being a protector, at my side." It chuckled, and waved a gesture of its hand at the boy, as he left.

Marc stopped for a moment and scratched the back of his neck, feeling a light itch. Once the irritation left, he continued walking but unknown to him, a black crescent moon had manifested on the back of his neck.

He has been tagged by this entity, as a worthy (one of many) nominees to serve it's will.

The question is, for what purpose?

Chapter Text

Arc 1: Skeptic Attachments

In this volume, the characters will be fan casted, but as teenagers as they are in a military high school. Connor Proft and David Jake Rodriguez will be reprising the roles of the teenage Dex and Marc from Daredevil and Moon Knight respectively. Along with Adrian Pasadar as Glenn Talbot (Agents of SHIELD), Don Cheadle as James "Rhodey" Rhodes (Iron Man 3 & onwards).

Now just to be clear, this volume will be more of a constant back-and-forth between a School/Teen Drama and Action. This will focused on Marc's stubborn refusal to try and make friends, still believing that he is all the horrible things Wendy said he was. Not only that, the most agonizingly mind breaking job must do every time, his external and internal struggle to hide both this DID from at the school and his true life from his innocent gifted genius alter Steven simultaneously.

But This will also be a character development story, where he realizes he is going to have to learn to valuing himself. Only by suppressing the and keeping control of broken mind, what left of his sanity for the safety of others, not using his alters to be his stress ball, can he truly succeed to in military; particularly the Marine Corps.

This will reveal how Bobbi becomes one of SHIELD's best agents, as she develops a close mentor-like friendship with Agent Phil Coulson.

It was just ordinary day at the Talbot Academy; Institute of Hidden Potential, where it's proclaimed loser club; Frank Castle, Benjamin "Dex" Poindexter, Mary Walker, and Bobbi Morse were bullied constantly by the star pupils

They were Brock Runlow and his girlfriend Ellen Brandt the rivals Frank and Bobbi respectively.

All that changed when they met with new transfer student from Chicago Illinois, Marc.

But since day he enrolled, strange things and terrifying things began happening. Any time Brock, Ellen and they're gang bullied to show their dominance, they got brutally hurt in mysterious ways. And when Dex notices this, and that something was disturbing about Marc, with others doing so much later, they all work together to investigate who and what Marc really is. But they must beware as Jake Lockley begins his personal obligation to not only train Marc to peak condition but also take great length to stop them from learning the truth.

That is (Just as much as Marc is working to keep their true life story a secret from Steven) if he can even hold Marc back enough without revealing his own existence.

He will not let some curious, combat amateurs sticking their noses in and learn of Marc's... conditions. Or worse, expose it all to the teaching staff.

Unless if they are begging for a universe of pain.

Titular Protagonist(s)

David Jake Rodriguez as Marc Spe☾tor / Steven Grant (recurring) / Jake L🌒ckley

Featuring Characters

Students

• Trevor Tordjman as Frank C💀stle
• Conor Proft (reprising) as Benjamin P🎯indexter
• Jessica Lord as Barbara "Bobbi" M🕊️rse
• Sadie Stanley as Mary W🎭lker

Antagonists/Bullies

• Will Ropp as Brock R☠️mlow
• Megan Charpentier as Ellen Br🔥ndt
• Nicholas Hamilton (actor) as Davy
• Cole Vallis as Eddie
• Asher Angel as Eric Savin

Other characters/Staff

• Adrian Pasdar as Headteacher Colonel Glenn Talbot
• Don Cheadle as Lieutenant Drill Sergeant James "Rhodey" Rhodes
• Susan Sarandon as Jean DeWolff

Recurring Characters 

• Clark Gregg as Phil Coulson
• Rey Lucas as Elias Spector

Recurring Antagonist(s)

• Catherine Dent as General Hale (Voice | Upcoming Antagonist)
• Fernanda Andrade as Wendy Spector

Chapter Text

Long ago, the superheroine who enrolled at the Military Air Force known as Carol Danvers aka Captain Marvel helped the Skrulls find new homes, upon learning the truth about Kree's true nature in the galaxy and breaking free from her brainwashing done by the Supreme Intelligence. Since Danvers enrolled in the military and knowing of her heroic actions across the galaxy, the military has seen a small increase in the number of known enhanced individuals began to pop up.

Unfortunately, the U.S Military (with many honorable high-ranking officials) had no choice but to consider these gifted people as potential assets, under the orders of the US government as rumors began to spread that small remnants of HYDRA were emerging on their radar and have been rebuilding their strength since WWII and have yet to pinpoint their exact base. And so, they began to continue to find and enlist people into the army, particularly teens as they were more likely to be gifted.

And worse, that decent branch of the military needed help finding potential ones by reaching out to agents of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division aka S.H.I.E.L.D.

Location: U.S. Military Academy; Talbot Academy; Institute of Hidden Potential

Time: 10:25 AM

Day: Friday

Whenever the word "morning" is heard or read... um, what exactly comes to the forefront of someone's mind? Well, (for a normal person) there would an early sunrise, well, if it's summer which would be a perfect advantage in gaining an early jog, workout, etc. Breakfast is probably the most favorite meal of the day, they get to eat sugary foods like toast and spread, cereal, and cornflakes. Other than that, maybe the annoying sound of a morning alarm is annoying, yet necessary agony for focus and attention.

Ah, yes. When it comes to getting better, a little pain is good, effort is so satisfying. And no kind of people would understand that better than those who enlisted in the military school, especially young people. However, today it has become stricter in the case of the students of the Talbot Academy; Institute of Hidden Potential.

At Talbot academy, the school applies several intense and extensive subjects of miliary training and classes, (hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, and self-defense). Pain intolerance (endurance, stamina, and determination). Marksmanship (including, guns, slings, archery, and knife throwing), and even espionage skills (disguises, charisma, and voice changing).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the training hall, the trainees were working training intensely by sparring with each other. They were all organized into separate groups, sparring with each other to hone their abilities; to help with combat skills.

Right now; it was Western Boxing Class.

The class genders were separated into two groups to practice, to avoid any injuries and boys had a physical advantage. The boys were set on sparring on the left side, and the girls was sparring on the right.

As the students were training, Colonel Glenn Talbot was watching over them standing by the door, while he could see that there hasn't been any improvement with some still lacking in their efforts, he was nevertheless impressed with their commitment.

Not as proud as he was with 6 of his military academy's top students. During this time, he is met with the arrival of his closest friends but the same time often rival, the Yang to his Yin in their complicated friendship, S.H.I.E.LD. Agent Philip Coulson

So the Colonel cut to the same question he had all time. "What do you, think Agent Coulson?" He asked with the usual yet reluctant opportunistic look on his face. "Think any of them might be gifted of sort?"

The Agent turned around to face him. "You've got to stop asking that question, Colonel." He replied with a small smile with his mouth shut as he looked at the trainees. "I know they've enlisted by their own will, but they're barely adults." For Coulson, right now it was hard for him to tell wether or not Talbot was okay with it, enlisting more teenagers into his military academy than normal, just find out if there are any gifted people.

"Right. Exactly, they're not. But right now, I have no choice in the matter, Phil." Talbot immediately clamped back stating his case in the current situation.

However, Coulson made a counterpoint. "You know full well that isn't truly the case, Glenn." Coulson replied intensely before looking down with pity and sympathy towards the teenager and adults (in their early 20s) veterans that are training in the Hall. "Besides, we don't know if it's truly the case the rise in enhanced people got something to cube that gave Danvers her abilities." The agent stated.

"Well, that's why you're here aren't you? That's why S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded, to uncover the spontaneous activity of these enhanced people." Said Talbot. "And who knows, we might be close to finding our new Captain America and I (excuse me) we.. have just pointed in the right direction." This made Coulson roll his eyes a bit. In response, Talbot stepped out of his ego a bit. "Look, it's not like I'm not giving them choice, alright? They can leave if they want." 

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." Coulson replied, but not letting his friend off the hook with his criticism. Although he could clearly see it's just as much as a normal high school than a military academy. "I'm just saying, for kids as young as this. You're pushing them too hard. Or at least, you shouldn't let the government make you push them too hard...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the the reception of the school the receptionist was taking a break at her office, eating her cereal bar whilst resting in her chair. However, she found it quite irritating to relax since the training from students classes can be heard all across the school. From the kicking and grunting from from the hand-to-hand combat classes, the intense slashing of swords against the protective uniforms, to the loud banging from the practice of firearms.

She immediately began to cover her ears, feeling that the sound of the gunfire was driving her mad or it might rupture her eardrums. Why? Just did it have to be a military high school? 

Then suddenly a mysterious Latino boy student had just arrived late. He'd been inducted into the school last week, but he needed wait at his old school since his timetable wasn't filled in yet, he only just opened his bank account and bought his training uniform just yesterday. When he walked through the doors, he took a deep breath for a moment to relieve the stress, as he was preparing to face the life of taking orders from an uneasy government.

Putting her break on hold the receptionist, she sees the young man walking past her office. "Um, excuse me. Are you lost?" She asked the teenager.

The boy then turned around. "Oh, yeah, a little." He replied. "I went through the induction last week. *pause* I'm looking for the training gym. But I need to know where the changing rooms are first." He said showing his timetable.

"Um, allow me." She said and she gives the directions to where the hall and changing rooms are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"... I'm mean seriously." The agent stated before rolling his eyes and with an annoyed look. "All this training because two of the world's greatest heroes just happened to be part of our United States Army? And we can't be sure if they had survived after Schmidt's downfall rebuilt since the war." He then quickly at student put in the work and soaking in sweat. 

However, Talbot was still ignoring the warning his old partner. "Which is we're shoving these talents down their throats to make sure until they are."

This pissed the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent off. "Your making a big mistake, General." He said now addressing his rival, in a angry, professional tone grabbing his left forearm angrily whispering his warning. "You have tell this kids truth, the purpose of this academy..." This immediately got Talbot's attention. "This is HYDRA, Nazi zealots. They won't think twice about turning these kids to mince meat! 

The Colonel looked at the S.H.I.E.L.D. with arrogance but also protectiveness of his students. "Over my righteous dead body!" He growled whispering back, sill adhering that a little push was necessary to see any cadet had any hidden talents. Talbot decides to end the conversation. "Look, you update me on this next time, Agent." He said before proceeding to walk off.

The Agent tutted a bit, he could clearly see that his friend stubbornly thinks pushing a bunch of trainees and one year trainees/privates who had enlisted, was necessary. That he had no choice, because the army will take steps S.H.I.E.LD. won't. But it's the Talbot Academy, course he has a choice. Coulson shook his head and huffed before grudgingly walking off. 

After observing them, Talbot walked across the training hall, scarcely through the trainees who training to their limits trying not to step on the training mats. He enjoys the kicking, screaming, and grunting as they sparred with each other, that was all he needed to show their commitment and focus.

To see if the trainees and privates improved anyway, Talbot walked over to the teacher of the class Lieutenant James Rhodes the close friend of the billionaire Anthony Stark, the son of the late Howard and Maria Stark who died in a mysterious car accident.

"Well, Rhodes?" The general asked the reasonable yet no-nonsense African-American officer. 

The lieutenant looked at each of the trainees. "Well, as usual. The Walker girl knows how to put on a good element of surprise. Morse, well, she's able to hold his own, mostly anyway. For that Poindexter, he skill combat is improved incredibly, he'll just as good in combat as is he is in talent for accuracy. And Castle's still able pack a huge punch, yet still haven't improved, yet, still getting was beat by Rumlow." He informed wincing eyes to brutal beat downs of the brutal training programs. "Still, no sign of these so-called enhanced abilities." He shook his head, also feeling it was uncalled for.

As the students were training, two boys were still holding their own against each other, until one of them came out victorious flooring the other one, flooring his sparring partner down on the mat. The boy who lost was angered at being defeated by his rival, this was the twelfth time in the past two weeks.

They were the try hards of the school, Frank Castle and his bitter rival Brock Rumlow would had just beaten him again.

"When are you gonna learn, Castle?" Brock taunted. "You'll never, ever beat me, too much pussy to handle it." He said with a grin.

"Yet. Wanna see handling, Rumlow? Keep talking." Frank growled under his breath before getting back up on his feet. He was tired of the big boy's attitude. He's been training so hard, yet still can't wipe the smirk off his face, but still persistent in beating him.

Seeing the fighting as having gone a little personal for some of the trainees, Talbot tells Rhodes to stop the class and it was nearly break time. "Okay, I think that's enough. For now." He whispered in the lieutenant's ear as the training hall was loud.

"Yes, Colonel." Said James with a little nod obeying his superior's orders. Then he boomed his voice to end the class. "Okay, everyone! That's enough!" He called. All the trainees were then alerted to their teacher voice and authority and ended their training. With the class nearly over the students proceed to put all the stuff away.

At Talbot Academy, the each person who were aiming to enlisting had very ambiguous set of training, ranging on rigorous expertise in firearms to unperfected self-defence hand-to-hand combat unfocused on offense. However, they're were five students in the entire school who were masters in each field/subject of training, (while they were first years students) the unrecognised top Students of the academy.

Student Profiles

Full Name; Francis "Frank" Castle, Sr
|
Birthplace: Hell's Kitchen, New York
Age: 20
Specialties: High-Pain Intolerance, Boxing, and Aikido and, currently training all form of Firearms.
|
Bio: Enlisted at age 18, candidate to join the Marine Corps to be trained under the command of Colonel Ray Schoonover, next year.

Full Name: Mary Alice Walker
|
Birthplace: New Orleans
Age: 20
Specialties: High Swordsmanship, Personality Masking/Method Acting, Black Belt in Taekwondo, Unpredictability
|
Bio: Enlisted at age 19. Selected candidate to join the United States Army; Black Ops Division.

Full Name: Benjamin "Ben/Dex" Poindexter.
|
Birthplace: Portsmouth, New Hampshire
Age: 19 and-a-half 
Specialty: natural proficiency in marksmanship, knife throwing, ricochet intuition and Geometry
Diagnosis; Borderline Personality Disorder
|
Bio: Parents' death by unknown causes, accommodated in Lyndhurst Home for Boys, MVP of the Baseball, indirect manslaughter of Coach Bradley. Enlisted at 18. Further trained in Firearms

Full Name: Barbara "Bobbi" Morse
|
Birthplace: San Diego, California
Age: 19
Specialties: Peak Human Reflexes, Judo & Eskrima
Doctrines: PhD in Biology
|
Bio: Sent to Juvenile twice for alleged aggravated assault, then sent to the academy, 8 months ago

The five trainees are closest friends composed of a small gang as they specialised in a specific field of military training. However, they were all outcasts and considered losers, with their unique talents due to only fully mastering one specific field of training. Rarely gaining attention than the school's top student, Frank's rival, bully, quintessential the king jock and arrogant prodigy who could practise and hone skills with hif natural talent.

And that was...

Full Name: Brock Rumlow
|
Birthplace: Midtown, raised in Brooklyn
Age: 20
Specialties: Boxing, Wing-Chun, Jui-jitsu
|
Bio: Sent to the juvenile at age of 16, enlisted the same year as Private Castle. Trained rigorously in boxing but utilized more Jui-jitsu and counterattack training. (Secretly an student from HYDRA academy, employed and trained under General Hale,  soon be transferred to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. under Alexander Pierce)

Anyway back to the class

As the training class finally finished the students were ordered put away their gymnastics mats which the students used to spar each other on. As they did it, Frank bitterly stroked his black eye a bit, with his rival refusing stop giving him the smug look.

And afterwards, the students all needed to line up in groups of 6, as their were 18 students in the hall.

Seeing his anger and irritation, Mary and Bobbi, walked over to the boys side to check up on him and Dex

With a simple groan of pity. "Seriously, this is what, The twelfth time Brock beat you?" Mary asked crossing her arms. "Just give up, Frank. You can't beat Brock. Either ya got something to prove, or that's plain masochism." She says followed by a sweet sigh of concern.

However, Frank stubbornly refuses. "Well, you're too nuts if you to think if it's the latter, Mary." He chuckles at her. "I wanna just wipe that smug, entitled look off his asshole face." He clenched his first tightly, visualising the moment.

"Yeah, you might wanna rethink that. If not, feel free to sneeze all bloody." Bobbi said very, bluntly irritating the Hell's Kitchen boy when she gives him a mocking smirk as she carried a one of the mats away.

But he turns it into more of a reason to motivate himself. "Heard that's more of a present for you, from Ellen Brandt." He replied with as smirk.

The blonde widened her mouth. "Sadist much? Okay, low blow, Castle. Even for you. Much as I hate the stuck-up, precious bitch---." Bobbi said crossing her arms and unsatisfied she'll get chance to bit her rival. "Like with her. Brock still gonna pummel you two to shit. Get it?"

Raising an eyebrow with a scoff. "Oh, you wanna talk about pummeling, Bobs?" Dex said, with his menacing look. "Don't worry I can show you pummel." He stared with bitter contempt at Brock, the guys always makes him and Frank look like winey weaklings. The loud noises of crickets in his head got louder and louder as his sharp eyes contemplated where to aim, perhaps cripple the douche. Then we'll see how cool he think he is.

"Uhh, Dex?" Bobbi said.

The the others noticed the deadly hawk stare he was giving, and knowing how scary talented Dex was in marksmanship, the others were a bit too hesitant to snap him out of it. The anger in Dex was rising like a volcano. Oh, how his just itching the throw a pencil in him!

But he was soon snapped out of his domestic intention when he feels a soft hand grab his arm. "Hey! Hey! Easy, Dex." Mary pleaded him calming him down with her kind reasonable eyes.

"The punk gonna get it soon enough, one way or another." Frank agreed after scowling at his rival.
With noise and murderous thoughts dying down in his head, Dex lowered his deadly focus for now.

So he turned to his fellow Hell's Kitchen bro. 
"Fine. But if you can't stuff it in his shit hole you call a face, your owe me 20 bucks." His said with usual cunning grin on his face, but not with ego anyway.

"Oh, a bet? Bring it. Gonna beat that asshat real good, I wil." Frank grinned. "But I win, you give me double."

"Don't be so sure, big man." Dex sniggered at this classmate.

Upon laughing along with his friendly rival, it took until now to realise he was genuinely happy, almost expressing. This is probabky one the rare times he he doesn't imitate others to blend in. And Mary... her kind nature, when she snapped him out of his killer urges, her soft hand wrapped around his wrist. Maybe... it's her... She's the one to be his North Star.

The conversation immediately ended upon James demanding attention of the class. "Attention! No talking!" The student immediately stopped upon hearing the lieutenant, their instructor's voice. Once he had gained their attention, James then looked to the headteacher, Clonal Talbot so he can talk to them. "Colonel, you can take it from here." He said stepping aside for his superior officer.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Talbot said turning to face the 20 trainees who fixed their posture as they faced the headteacher, with the students all stood in square assembly  As he looked at them, Glenn smiled with satisfaction. He could see he had pushed them to the necessary force to put in a lot of effort, to find out who might be so gifted.

And now here comes the motivational speech.

"Now, as we all know, WWII may have ended and since then, we're now  living in a time of stability and peace." Talbot states, then slowing raising his tone. "But that doesn't mean that human race is now fully immune to pride and ego, needing to prove oneself worth and superiority by picking on the little guys! Am I wrong?!" 

A simple. "NO, SIR!" was heard from the trainees, in which a small smile appeared on the Colonel face.

On right, Rhodes just looked down and sighed. 

"In three weeks time, we'll be visited by three of my associates, Major General Ross, Brigadier General Schoonover and General Hale. They'll be watching your training, your development and resolve, and if catch a keen on that, each of you will be picked you to training with them next semester and applied to their branch of the army." Talbot explained.

The student revil the hard work they ready to put and make a great impressions for the Generals.

"This is now your time cadets, to become something greater." Talbot says. "For all dishonour and heinousness of our society to cower at your feet like the pussies they are!" He said in a empowering tone. "And you don't want be pussies, don't you?!" 

"No, sir!" The trainees replied pumped up and ready.

"Ready to give it your all?!" Talbot demanded once more.

"Everything, Sir!" Said the trainees.

And all the while Frank with a small grin, as he's been training more than anyone. "Oh, I'll give my all, you won't how far I'll go. You'll see." He whispered to himself, only for Bobbi to hear. She then touched him on the shoulder getting his attention.

"We will give it our all, Frank. Together." She whispered with a smirk, to which Dex, and Mary nodded in agreement.

And all then looked at the arrogant, and cocky star student, Brock who was standing right in front of them. The top student in supposedly "every field" of training? Well, that's about to change.

The suddenly, a Latino boy walked in class exhausted. It was Marc Spector and he just missed his class and he's already a week behind!

"Huh? Oh. The class already finished, damn." He said awkwardly, before dropping his bag on the floor. Giggles of infatuation emulated amongst the girls, upon seeing his awkward first impression.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marc's POV
"Yeah, talk about a pathetic first impression, for a transfer student that is. Shit! Can't I go just one day without a damn error biting me in the ass?! *Groan" Okay, just keep calm, watch the facial expressions. I'm not here to be liked. I only here to train and get strong, this is where it begins. I'm sorry, dad, really i am. But she made this my only path now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With Marc now having the attention of the entire class, each of the students had differing opinions of him with this late first impression. Some of the girls that had caught sight of him, especially Mary had caught very on at how incredibly, cheeky and somewhat charming he looked with the small grin appearing on her cute energetic face.

With Bobbi staring at him she could see it, Marc clearly has was on a strict workout session from whatever military school he transferred from, a little flawed, but strict enough, nothing turned her on more than a guy hot one discipline, raising her eyebrows feeling very intrigued and fascinated. Though Frank, being the regular stone faced bad boy that he is couldn't care less but was curious, having noticed there huge force driving this new kid. 

For Brock, all he could see right now was another insecure beta male, considering him as a another loser.

But with Dex, though it was only for a few minutes of observing, he knew their something seriously off about Marc.

"You're late, kid!" Talbot said with the drill instructor voice. "Class started more than an hour and thirty minutes ago!"

"Woah, what are we megaphones?" Marc skillfully mumbled sarcastically under his breath just enough for the students to hear making them giggle a bit, much the proud Colonel slight annoyance. "Oh, I'm sorry I'm late, sir!" He shouts as it was a military school. "I had to wait to my timetable was filled... I'm supposed to be here, apparently."  He explained.

Then military friend of billionaire checked the tablet register, the saw the new kids name on it. "Is this your name... Marc Spector?" James asked shaking him the screen.

"Yeah, that's me." The Jewish kid replied.

With his name in the open, Marc stoic eyes wondered around the entire class, then make small eye contact with the outcast gang a bit, from Frank, Bobbi, Mary and Dex.

But when his mind turned cold and focused and his eyes finally met with Dex's, the marksman literally got a heart attack, filling him complete and silent dread. The pain and trauma in his eyes, that was converted into a power that satisfied the hungry ambition within, just like him. Never did he ever imagine he'd meet someone with a hidden strength, and a resentment that rivaled if not surpassed his own. And that frightened him to the bone.

Then much to his relief, he was saved by the bell ringed with that, everyone's attention was brought back to the teacher Lieutenant Rhodes "Alright, class. I want you all focused and undistracted by Monday. You're dismissed." He said, with the students picking up their bags to walk off to their changing rooms. However, as Marc was about to leave, James stops him. "Halt, Spector. You had just got here." He said in stern voice of authority.

"Oh, sorry, sir. What is it?" Marc asked with a face completely calm, ready to orders.

"Now, I know you were transferred last week you had wait till your timetable was full. But every letter that was sent specifically said to wait until a student is receive a dorm and wait until then." Rhodes said. "And you know the rules, lateness won't be tolerated next time." He explaining and adding.

Immediately, Marc remembered. Then sighed putting his head in his hand in frustration. He must have left the letter as his old house. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again." He answered fixing posture back upright.

"Also, since your far behind, I want you here on today's break and lunch." Rhodes also added. "And next week after training hours to catch up on what you missed, weekend too. Do you understand?" 

"Um, Yes, sir." Marc replied with a commited and sharp-eyed look.

"Good." James says, somewhat curious of his new kid. The level of conviction in his eyes rivaled even that Frank's. "Now head outside with me and give me ten laps." He ordered with Marc nodding in compliance as he did and follows the Lieutenant out of the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside the Gym Changing Rooms

Time: 10:30AM : Break Time

After everyone changed out their training kits and back in the camo uniforms, the class proceed to leave to head to break. With them all heading outside, a fresh gust of wind refreshed them from all the sparring they did in training.

But once Frank and his group were outside, they stop for moment to watch as Marc as he heads out to train.

"Don't know about you guys. But he looks like he's been at it hard before he got here." Bobbi presumes, with optimism, subtly intrigued by Marc. "Maybe he shake Brock ass till he piss himself."

"Not sure he fight for shit, Barbs." Frank deduced seeing that new kid had barely exercised or anywhere near peak. "But Rumlow, asshole's gonna get what's comin'." He said laid-back briefly rubbing his bruised cheek. 

"Perhaps it's more about restraint. He seems so withdrawn, like something he's trying so hard to bury." Mary said empathetic, but with a growing infatuation. "But he gets marks for style... Oh, the looks. So ho--" But then she stutters. "I mean headstrong! Stylish and headstrong." She immediately stand corrected, blushing.

With the boys looking at her weirdly, confused for the irrelevant comment.

But Bobbi could see exactly what's going on, chuckling under breath.

"Alright, just hope the dude won't roll over and quit. Come on guys." Frank said with the others following him as group leader into the campus building.

But as Dex was about to walk through the door back inside, he turned once more, watching Marc follow Lieutenant Rhodes up to the training field. The OCD Marksman decides must not let me guard down, should he cross the Dissociative Jew.

Immediately, he was snapped out of it by Bobbi, who walked back outside to get bim. "Hey, Dex. You comin yet?" She asked. 

Finally Dex had the self-control a bit to reply. "Yeah, no problem. I'll be right with..." He replied, with the brown haired girl with smile of assurance before waking off.

When she left, he looked at the floor, dreading what might happen if a bully like Brock or anyone were to piss Marc off, the chaos he'd wreak, and Dex knew that all to well. Only with Marc, it'll take more than therapists to stop him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dex's POV

"Don't know who this kid is. But we're all in deep, if we piss the hell out of him. Brock, you son of bitch, better grow the hell up. Cause if not, shit is gonna hit every fan!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And with that, he immediately walking quickly back inside the campus, confident in his inhuman aiming skills will be more than enough to prepare him for whatever frightening superior deadly skills Marc will demonstrate, that are up his sleeve.

Author's Note

To be honest, the contents of this chapter is slightly inspired by the Naruto Anime. When Sasuke Uchiha gets first acquainted with the mentally-ill and murderous Gaara, when he came to attend the Chunin Exams. Heck, even their characters are similar

A neighborhood (sometimes) loner and combat prodigy with intensely sharp eyes and body coordination, (that is Dex and Sasuke) meeting dangerous disturbed teen with a secret terrifying and strong inner demon (Gaara with Shukaku, and Marc with Jake.)

Don't worry, in my next chapter I'll be added more of the inner thoughts of different characters in the story. Sorry if the chapters seem a little short, I'll be updating each for each scenes to make this more dramatic.

But for now, I really must break this annoying procrastination, and keep writing.

Chapter Text

Location: Marc Spector's Mindscape 

Time: Unknown...

The lights flicker in what seems to be a... wait a psychiatric hospital? Okay, something is not right here. The footsteps of white trainers slowly pressed against the floor leaving slightly dirty footprints. The teenage boy looked from left to right with a little shy but very headstrong attitude, unable to recall how he even got here.

The teen was wearing denim grey trousers, with a matching t-shirt but also a white blazer, with sleeves rolled up.

"Hello, someone there? Bloody, it's dark in here." He tried to pick up his phone to try and call his mom, the to extreme irritation theirs was no damn signal in area.

It was Steven Grant, and what on earth what's he doing in a damn mental asylum?

Alright, this is getting crazier than last time. It's almost as worse, as it was when he was a kid. 10 years old, last time he recalled.

When he was in his room, Steven was busy drawing goldfish and other fishes simply fascinated by some marine life. Then heard his mother knocking on his bedroom and rushed to pick up all his coloring pens, before she could see the mess he made. She was always a little too much of a neat freak. And when his mother entered for some odd reason he blacked out as if he was relaxing paralysed on his bed.

Then suddenly, 45 minutes later when Steven resurfaced, he was outside on a summer day with his dad holding, Eli's hand as if he was still just a kid. His body began aching from very unknown causes, feeling like he's been scratched and had burns all over his back.

Seriously he's got classes tomorrow on forensics, and his body chooses now to walk around? "Oh, I had enough with you, brain! Work you little... Fleshy." Steven said to himself.

No! He doesn't have time to pity his idiotic sleeping problems. As soon as he gets out of here he'll head back to campus and get some before the exams come. "Alright, that's it, enough with this shit!" Steven said to himself and stormed down a staircase to find an open exit. Maybe someone forgot to lock it.

But unknown to him, in shadows, a hooded person was stalking Steven, taking careful steps down the corridor so it could be heard. Their eyes were white and glowing. And in the right hand was a blunt metal bar, waiting for the right moment to strike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Real World

Location: U.S. Military Academy; Talbot Academy, Boy's Dorms.

Time: 11:14 PM

Day: Sunday.

After a long day of school training, the students were fast asleep in their dorms. The windows were wide and open, and the mesmerizing sensation of the wind traveled across the room, the window frame and metal bars from top the bottom in case anyone to didn't attend were to break in. At night times it was campus rules to always have the windows open at night, to build up resistance to the cold, it is and military school after all.

In the female dorms for the girls, it was kind of relaxing, as they could still feel their muscles clenching very hard after a workout, with the extra benefit of revising tactics. But for the guys, it was quite vexatious, especially when one was growing some body hair.

The oxygen molecules barging through the leg hairs, making them twitch can be compared to having flies crawling on your back all the time.

Honestly, sometimes.... screw puberty.

As the other boys were fast asleep, Dex was still wide awake in his bed on the far left side of the room, sleeping on his right side. But as laid in his bed, he stared intensely and extremely nervy at the new kid, the unconscious Marc who was deep sleeping on his stomach.

Something is dangerous about him, he knows it.

Whilst that was happening, Marc's hands began twitching intensely, moving stressfully and groaning in his sleep. His breathing became very heavy with rapid eye movement following after, and his right hand tried to curl into a fist as his palm lay flat on the mattress.

And all whilst the pieces of his fractured mind competed in his head. 

Outside on a cold night with warms streaks, the intense hard wind blew hard through the windows into the boys' dorms making the atmosphere glooming but slightly dreading. The cloudy sky cleared it a bit, letting the slivers of moon's light shine down on the campus, and every time it did.

Was also when Marc kept on twitching in his sleep, his lungs taking too much air, and his sweat secreting like after a workout.

And whilst this was happening, the mysterious vulture-headed creature manifested itself outside on the campus grounds, once again to observe the unconscious Spector whilst standing on the 16ft gate of the school to see its worthy specimen grow

And as the entity's eyes glowed white, it peers inside the mind of the boy who would soon be its sentinel.

But first, a little experiment.

The creature needed to know exactly which part of the boy would be more than willing to accept his power, to serve its will, its purpose. Because while the main part of the fascinating pre-adult human must accept, he might not always enjoy it as was with many of its other warriors. Time to put it to the test.

With a single tap of its staff, the skies fully cleared, letting the Waning Crescent beamed down like a torch. As it did, Marc's body shook intensely and his heart rate increased rapidly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: Marc Spector's Mindscape

Time: Unknown

At the hospital, Steven managed to get down to the lower staircase of the hospital, reaching one of the exits to leave the facility and smiling that he'll get the heck out. But when he reached the doorknob it was unable to turn like it was completely jammed. This cannot be happening again. His parents always believed there was more than just physicality with men, he was never a PE person, and he did not want to be the guy 

In a fit, Steven felt like he could punch the wall right now. "Oh, bollocks!" He barked. Still determined he turned around and through another way out, he then marched down the corridor, with a state of streak of panic on his face.

The light began flickering with every step that he took until he came across a nearby phone on a wall, and finally, the way he saw it was a way out. He immediately rushed to the landline phone and desperately put the college phone number to contact.

All the while, the dark figure in a grey hoodie was watching the defenseless genius from shadows around the corner.

When the phone seemed to be online, he immediately called to try to leave a message maybe some teacher haven't left the premises. "Uh, hello? This - This is Steven Grant, I'm a... I'm kinda trapped in.. in. Like one minute I was heading to sleep and the next..." But then he as he was talking.

Then the shadowy person in a hoodie, waved his hand as he looked at Steven on the phone.

Before he knew it, the phone was completely disrupted by static. "Uh, man!" Steven groaned placing the back in place, only for a spark electric snap pop from the number dials. "S***!" He jumped. With that, he leaned against the wall groaning in frustration. No signal, locked doors, and no desk here to study.

Guess at this point, he must find some empty hospital bed to sleep on. Or something. With that walked off to find one.

But before he could leave the corridor, a flash of light with the sound of camera snapping emulating from one of the rooms, caught his attention, and turned around with surprise notice. 

Wait it's nearly midnight, isn't the hospital meant to be deserted? A shiver went down Steven's spine after he turned around slowly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: U.S. Military Academy; Talbot Academy, Boy's Dorms.

Time: 11:21 PM

The clouds in the sky slightly passed once again and its rich moon continued pumping its nutritious energy.

The aching began spreading over Marc's body as he begins to wince slightly in pain, feeling like every nerve under his skin was on fire. His lungs tries to slow down his breathing a bit to allow the stress to exit his body, but the sweat pores on his head were still wide opening and pouring making his face look like he splashed water on it. For a moment, his body tried to relax as a slight exhale left his mouth.

But the moon shined through, and rich white energy filled his veins, the crescent tattoo on the back of Marc's neck glowed with making, intensifying the agony.

As Dex observed clearly, there was no mistake. This was schizophrenia, a by-product of childhood trauma. This is a mistake, unlike this new kid, Dex himself has something to control himself with Dr. Mercer's tapes to dampen his BPD. 

But what possible anchor does he have?

In his deep unconscious, Marc continues to struggle and winces and grit his teeth tightly in his sleep in both stress and torment. This body began moving with his head shaking his head with an indefinite struggle.

"No. No. He cannot know. He must not know!" Marc whispered in a shallower rasping voice. He was sweating so much, it looked like he was having a fever, as teeth grit and eyes tight in the pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: Marc Spector's Mindscape

Time: Unknown

At the same time, each step he took, a slight panic, Steven closed his hands into a fist and breathed heavily, waiting to confront whoever it was in that room projecting this strange light. "H Hello?" He called out treading his feet carefully on the ground as his approached the room. The cautiousness, he then accidentally knocked over a fire extinguisher. But then he immediately pulled back up.

There that's better, all tidy. "That's better." He said to himself. Now, back to that scary room.

He took a slight look at the wall on the other side of the door the light from the room was shining on. By the looks of it, there was no shadow of anybody in the room. 

As his hand reached for the door, he slightly hesitated a bit. "Alright, no big deal." He told himself, and after as ran up his spine, he built up the courage to place his hand on the doorknob and pushed in, and slowly entered the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once stepping over the door frame, Steven's eyes widened, and stunned, now he was more frightened. Where is he? Is this place haunted?! Instead of the room having a hospital bed and equipment, it was an entire classroom where everything in it was white, or grey.

From the desk equipment, the staples, and even the computers.

What began to send shivers down Steven's nervous system was that when he looked at the window with blinders, somewhat of sunlight was shining through it! And in every other room windows including the ones on the exit door he tried open and leave the facility in the past hour showed a night sky. "Oh, blimey. Where the heck am I?!" He panicked. And as he did, the cloudy skies outside turned to stormy dreading grey.

The confusion was so much for Steven, he stepped far backward until he was against the wall and just sat down on the floor with his head in his hands in stress. This place this psycho hospital is haunted!

This cannot be happening to him again.

Suddenly with a clicking sound then followed, the class projector switched on, displaying a white light.

This catches Steven's attention, to which he stood back up and slowly walked towards it.

The genius teen gets briefly distracted when he hears the creaking on the door, which gave a slight heart attack. But it was probably nothing.

The projector kept on rolling on as the opened windows pulled in the cold dry wind.

Static sound cackled out of it, with it slight glitches making turn on and off. 

A bewildered Steven didn't know what to think. "Oh, alright then." He said shrugging a bit. He then suggests going over to the teacher's seat, switching on the computer, and send a message, thank God for Gmail.

But immediately, the image was projected onto the whiteboard screen making him jump, Steven looked at the computer but the screen was off. Something was not right, as his eyes were twitching at the cold fact. When he took a step towards the whiteboard,... the projector displayed 9 security camera footage. Initially, he was confused, like, security cam footage in a classroom. But when he looked closer, he noticed that each camera footage was from different parts of his life! Was someone spying in him, his whole life?! 

His heart began again with stress and fear his head turning left and right, this place, it must be a prison of some sort.

But as he was distracted, the wall at the back of the classroom began to boil with big white bubbles like tomato sauce, as a white gloves hand emerged from it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: U.S. Military Academy; Talbot Academy, Boy's Dorms.

Time: 11:27 PM

Day: Sunday.

With the pumping of blood pushing through his arteries, Marc fell into hyperventilation, his head was shaking, his hands shivering, and heartbeat rising. The crescent tattoo on his back neck began glowing, heating his body...

All while, a disturbed Dex watched him unable to sleep because of Marc's loud whispers, it was bad enough he was hearing cricket in his head. Though he could get help, it was not possible due to strict school rules of going around school past 9 pm. 

Outside the school, the bird-headed creature's hand tightened around its crescent staff, fascinated at the complex working of its candidate's brain. It cackles a bit, whoever this boy is he must be extremely gifted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: Marc Spector's Mindscape

Time: Unknown

As his eyes wandered between each camera footage, I didn't take long for Steven to notice... he doesn't remember doing any of this. When he looked closer, he see what seemingly looks like him lifting weights in a gymnasium. Then switched to another screen, it was him doing pull-ups and when looked closer at his recorded footage, he sees that there were multiple scars spread across his back.

Belt scars, knife cuts, bruises on his shoulders, and unhealed wounds.

Another one showed, the bitter and angry look on his face as he did press-ups, the darkness inside frightened Steven out of his mind.

And another one. Wait a minute... he remembers this, it was back when he was in secondary, he was walking home one day until he was ambushed by a couple of muggers who tried to rob him. Overwhelmed by the stress he blacked out... and when he woke up, he was lying on the floor with seven of the muggers dead all around him, with their hearts ripped out of their chests. He was scared at the senseless he had run away before the police can arrive. 

Well, footage shows that when did, he viciously fought back against his attackers with flash-like superspeed and killed them all.

Completely incensed, Steven could only back up against a table and cover his mouth in horror.

He looked at this hands that were shaking with dread. So, this, this is what his crazy unconscious mind'll immediately do those who antagonizes him?! Not reasoning, no dialogue, just cold-blooded murder?!

That was when he realised what the feeds were. They were security footage of all times in his life he was ever sleepwalking. "W What have I been doing?!" He panicked.

No! He is not murder in any sense, someone made him this way!

Now desperate for some answers, he rushed to the screen of the computer, desperate to know what he's been doing while unconscious. There must be more files in here. "I have to know, I have to know. Oh, man. This damn crazy." He said. For too long, he kept on losing control of his life the schedules, and the revision. It's about time he learns what he's been doing, and who's doing this to him! 

But before he could turn the screen on.

WHACK!

Immediately, Steven's balance was shut down, knocking him out. His his body collapse on the floor with the hooded figure who was just standing with a metal staff in his hand. After the hooded person looked down on the boy with it's glowing white eyes, and the shade of the covering his face, the person sighs in relief.

And then also, after the hours of struggling to sleep...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: U.S. Military Academy; Talbot Academy, Boy's Dorms.

Time: 11:36 PM

Day: Sunday.

..... Marc's breathing started to slow down with his body finally relaxing. His closed fist finally opened back into a sigh of relaxation exited his mouth, followed by a grin on his face. And most of all, the rapid eye movement then stopped immediately, simultaneously the clouds then blocked the moon's bright energy, and Marc's finally closed and breathed through his mouth finally sleeping properly.

With that noise finally quiet, Dex can finally get sleep. "Shit, man. What a freak." He muttered to himself. Perhaps, he was a little too hasty being scared of the new kid. So, the projectile prodigy just lay down and rested his head on the pillow.

The vulture creature then groaned a bit, dissatisfied with the result. It seems like neither of them are susceptible to using its power. The soldier boy seems to be fighting the possibility he's a killer, when he clearly has the anger and resentment of one, and that worm he created in his head lacks any aggression despite that meddlesome code despite the natural genius in that one.

Maybe this kid isn't the right candidate and was about teleport away. But... Wait! there was something else.

This new mind locked deep in his subconscious. A stoic but dangerous, cunning, perfect embodiment of ambition and rage. Yes, that is part he needs, should the soldier boy give up the power and destiny that awaits him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Location: Marc's Spector's Mindscape

Time: Unknown

The figure reached for its head, removing the hood his face and revealed it his face. It was Marc. "Uh, dammit, that was close." He groaned. Any further look into their past, and he would've discovered the truth. "Great, sorry, Steven." He whispered as everything faded into the black for Steven.

So, Marc took a step forward he looked at the security feed of their memories, specifically the one Steven just saw, when they killed seven muggers single-handed that day. Except for one problem, that wasn't he and it certainly wasn't Steven either. 

Otherwise, Marc would've seen it.

For years, Marc was searching throughout his mind to confirm if there were any other personalities he might've spawned, but there were none. It was just him and Steven in his pitch white mental prison. Because he knew if he fronted that day, those thugs, the fight would've ended with them crying on their knees like babies and begging for mercy rather than dead. Moving on, the soldier alter switches off the class projector showing the security feed of moments of their memories.

Right now, that's not his main concern.

His priority was making sure his nerdy persona didn't see any of this.

And so he began, dragging Steven's unconscious body out of classroom by the legs, holding the door open with his feet, and pulling Steven back into the dark corridor. Not willing to waste any more time, Marc grabbed Steven lifted him up, and carried him on his shoulders, he slowly took the staircase it was exhausting. For a guy that never exercised, man Steven was damn heavy, in their head. When he finally reached the top floor,...

He took a long hard look at the dark room, the one he was so most reluctant to use. But what he had to use to keep the secret, was to secure Steven's sanity.

The Memory Suppression Room