Liam's body trembled as waves of heat surged through him. His veins pulsed violently, his muscles twitching beneath his skin. A low hiss escaped his mouth as thick, black sludge oozed from his pores, coating his body like tar. The stench hit him instantly—rotting iron and sulfur, a smell so foul it clawed at his nose.
He staggered forward, wiping the sludge from his arms.
"Ugh— that's not a good smell to wake up with," he muttered, half-gagging.
Yet beneath the disgust was something else—lightness. Strength. Every breath filled his lungs like fire and lightning combined. His head buzzed with energy.
Then it happened.
A spark.
A crack.
Purple arcs of lightning danced across his body, wrapping him in an aura that hissed and snapped with violent beauty. His eyes widened in awe.
"Whoa…" he breathed, staring at his own hands as lightning crawled between his fingers. "I have a freaking superpower."
Excitement pulsed through him, wild and intoxicating. He clenched his fists, feeling raw power surge beneath his skin. Imagine the possibilities, he thought, a grin spreading across his face.
But the grin faltered. He remembered something. Fire—he'd felt it before, deep within his core. He focused again, trying to summon that same warmth. Instead, lightning answered. Sparks leapt out, scorching the earth beneath his feet.
"What the hell…? So it's lightning now?" he said, half-laughing, half-confused. He tried again to shape it, to control it—but the power refused to obey, wild and chaotic like a storm given form.
"Well, at least I have powers," he sighed, shaking his head.
His stomach growled violently, cutting through his thoughts. The hunger came in waves—deep, primal, painful. He clutched his abdomen, kneeling as dizziness washed over him. "Damn it…" he hissed.
He checked his phone. A nearby restaurant flickered on the map.
"Guess I'll take the risk," he muttered.
With a burst of lightning-infused speed, Liam dashed through the forest. Branches shattered as he moved. His hunger worsened, blurring his vision. The world tilted with each step until—finally—he stumbled out onto the main road, panting. The glowing sign of a small restaurant shimmered in the distance like salvation.
He pushed through the doors.
Every head turned.
The air thickened instantly with the stench of burnt sludge and ozone. The waitress froze mid-step, her face twisting in horror. His clothes were torn, his body smeared with that same black substance, and his eyes—bright red—glowed faintly in the dim light.
Still, she forced a smile. "May I… take your order, sir?"
Liam blinked, confused. "Is something wrong?" he asked, then waved a hand. "Never mind. Uh… five burgers. And some fries."
He slumped into a nearby chair. The waitress scurried away, her steps trembling.
Minutes later, plates clattered onto his table. The smell of grilled meat hit him like a wave. "Finally…" Liam breathed.
He devoured the food like a starved beast, tearing through burger after burger until only crumbs and grease remained. "That was… incredible," he said, leaning back. "Hunger almost killed me."
He was just about to stand when a man approached his table—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a black suit. Without a word, the man placed a small, ornate box before him. A crimson ribbon sealed it shut. A note rested on top.
"What's this?" Liam frowned, picking it up. "A bomb? A prank?"
The handwriting was neat, elegant—almost playful.
> To my dearest toy,
I've been wanting to play with you so badly, but you haven't been around. So I'm giving you the urge you need to come. Open the box, and find your desire.
Liam's grip tightened. "Who the hell—"
Something in his gut screamed danger. His lightning flickered unconsciously around his hands. "Whatever this is… I don't get a good vibe from it."
Still, curiosity won.
He opened the box.
The world stopped.
The smell of blood—old, metallic, familiar—poured out. Inside, stacked neatly, were six severed limbs. Small ones. A hand clutching a bracelet he recognized. His mother's.
For a heartbeat, Liam didn't move. His mind refused to accept what his eyes saw. Then the realization hit like thunder. His chest constricted. His vision blurred red.
"No…" His voice broke. "No, no, no…"
The world around him cracked.
His veins lit up, glowing crimson. The air trembled as a storm of energy erupted from within. His body shook, consumed by grief, rage, and the one thing he'd never felt before—hatred so deep it burned.
---
Meanwhile, outside, the man in black pressed a finger to his earpiece. "The package has been delivered, sir."
A voice replied, smooth yet filled with venomous glee. "Excellent. I do hope he likes my little gift. I can almost hear the scream already."
The man hesitated. His hand trembled slightly. "What… what do you want me to do next?"
"Follow him," the voice said, laughter echoing through the line. "And deliver my present properly. Oh, and don't fail me. You remember what happened to the last one, don't you?"
The line went dead.
The man's breathing quickened. He remembered vividly—the screams, the laughs and that crazed look He exhaled shakily. "All units," he ordered into his comm, "follow the target "
Then the world exploded.
---
"Sir—"
The man barely managed a word before a deafening BOOM ripped through the air. The restaurant erupted in flames, shockwaves flattening the nearby buildings. The sky itself seemed to burn.
From within the inferno, a figure emerged—his body wrapped in swirling fire and lightning. His eyes glowed like molten rubies, and each step left scorched footprints on the cracked pavement.
Liam's voice, low and cold, sliced through the roar of flames.
"Seems… I've found my urge."
The man dropped his weapon, terror freezing him in place. "What… what are you?"
Liam didn't answer. Flames curved toward him, wrapping around his arms like loyal beasts. The air shimmered with heat.
Somewhere, far away, the same mocking voice chuckled through the comm line. "Perfect. Let's see what my toy can really do."
Liam raised his hand. Lightning sparked between his fingers, weaving into the flames. The storm within him had awakened—and this time, it had purpose.
"I'll find you," he said softly, his voice laced with fury and promise. "And when I do… you'll die."
The man turned to run, but the air around him ignited. A blinding flash engulfed the street.
When the flames finally died, only ash and smoke remained.
And through it all, Liam stood beneath the night sky, eyes still glowing red, the lightning crackling faintly around him—no longer a boy, but something far more dangerous.