[Part 1: The Birth]
"Come on, baby, you've got this... just keep on pushing, I'll be right here."
A tall, dark-skinned man with short black hair and intense brown eyes gripped his wife's hand, his voice trembling with a mix of love and panic.
"Ahhh!!!" Her screams echoed through the delivery room, raw with the anguishing pain of childbirth.
"A little more," the doctor urged, his voice steady but urgent. "I can see the head... just another push!"
And then—
"Waaaah!!"
"Waaaah!!"
"Waaah!!"
The shouts of the newborn resonated through the hospital room... until suddenly there was nothing but silence.
A strange, uneasy stillness engulfed the place.
Surgical tools, metal trays, the nearby chairs—even the hospital bed—began to levitate several inches from the ground. The room seemed like time had just stopped, everyone frozen in place.
The doctor nearly dropped the baby in shock, but before the child could reach the floor, he levitated, floating mid-air, just inches off the floor.
The room was filled with an unusual quiet.
"Wh—what's going on?" The father questioned, staring at the levitating child—with glowing red and violet heterochromia eyes—with a look of disbelief.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
The heart rate monitor flatlined, finally breaking free from the silence.
Everyone turned to panic. The doctor called in the aid of nurses. The man rushed to his wife's side, dropped to his knees, and took her hand in his, feeling the warmth leave her body.
He wept with tears that were locked away for too long.
"No... No... No!! My love, don't leave me just yet, I beg you, find the strength."
The man begged, praying that god would take pity and bring back his beloved wife... his entire world.
A nurse burst into the room with a stethoscope in hand. Quickly, she rushed over to the woman's side, checking her for any sign of life. But there was no heartbeat, no breath, no pulse, no signs of life.
But that's when it happened... a miracle. Or at least what can only be determined as a miracle.
The newborn floated to his mother's side, hovering just over her chest. He outstretched his hand and released a blinding white aura from his body, in that instant...
Beep! Beep!
Beep!
The heart rate monitor started to beep once more, her warmth returned, her heart began to beat, and the life in her pulse came back.
Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump!
Her heart was stronger than ever, beating with perfect rhythm.
Like she had never died to begin with, she was alive. And the baby... just giggled with innocent laughter, as if nothing had ever happened.
But that wasn't the case, no... not at all. And the dark-skinned man, the nurse, and the doctor all knew what happened was anything but normal.
It wasn't impossible since supernatural things happen every other day, but this child was more than just supernatural.
A baby, newborn, reviving the dead... if it got out, there'd be people approaching him every day, trying to take him for themselves, using him for their own selfish desires.
After a moment of thinking, the doctor and nurse were no different; they only thought about the lives they could save, not the life the child could live. And the black haired man—the boy's father—his views took a twisted shift as well.
His wonder turned into greed as he thought, "What if?"
What if he sold the child to the government? What would happen to his position, and how much money would he receive? In his mind, he could always make another.
But deep down, he knew, "Who am I kidding, just look at her."
He muttered, watching as his wife couldn't help but snuggle up in the warmth of her child.
She felt a deep connection to him, something beyond the usual bond of mother and child. Though she was oblivious to the events that had just taken place, she knew he was a miracle waiting to happen.
She was a mutant herself—she was an empath, capable of feeling the innocence he radiated, and she loved it. Also, she could sense the malicious thoughts of the people in the room...
That she hated it.
It was there that she made a vow to protect her son no matter the case, even at the risk of her own safety.
When she conveyed her feelings to her husband to see how he'd react, she was surprised; he returned feelings of submission toward her love, where she assumed there'd be greed.
"He's my kid too," Mark said firmly, eyes locked on his wife's. "And I won't let anything bad happen to him."
Abigail locked eyes with him, her expression softening, but remaining resolute.
In the corner of the room, the doctor and the nurse exchanged glances—mysterious, and plotting. They glared towards the child, then back towards each other, their faces marked by cunning grins.
"Ahm!" The doctor cleared his throat, attempting to mask the hidden intent in his voice. "We'll need to run some medical tests on your child. Standard medical procedures, and whatnot. If you'll just let us..."
"No, thank you," Mark interrupted in a calm tone that hardly masked the anger in his voice. I do mind."
He shifted his gaze to his wife.
"My wife here is an empath," he said, stepping between them and his family, his imposing figure inducing fear. "And I trust her judgement more than the likes of you two. So, if you'd like to keep your jobs, I suggest you hurry up and leave."
Mark continued, angrily glaring at the doctor and nurse.
The doctor shivered at the intense atmosphere, "But, sir, it could be a medical emergency—"
"Right, it could be life-threatening if we don't..." The nurse added in an unstable, shaky voice.
"You heard him!"
Abigail's voice rang out, annoyed and commanding.
"You two should leave. I promise you—you don't want to make me angry."
Her eyes began glowing green with psychic energy, and without warning, both the doctor and nurse abruptly dropped to their knees. They released agonizing screams of pain, not physical but induced by Abigail's psychic waves of empathic energy.
Their cries brought the attention of the hospital staff.
Moments later, a nurse burst into the room, only to freeze at the sight of the two professionals uncontrollably sobbing in each other's arms.
"Tch!" She scoffed at the unprofessionalism before her. "And you call yourselves professionals."
She peeked her head out the door and shouted, "Security!" Swiftly two security guards rushed into the room at the sound of her voice.
"Take these two away, make sure they don't bother anyone." The nurse said before turning towards Mark and Abigail. "I do apologize for my colleague's incompetence. I'll be sure you're able to leave as soon as possible."
Mark nodded, wrapping his hand around his wife's shoulder. She clutched their son closer to her chest, her face glowing with motherly love.
About half an hour later, the door creaked open, and the same nurse from before walked in—calm and composed.
"You're free to go," She said softly, holding a clipboard. "And once again, I apologize on behalf of my peers' outburst. They're being evaluated now. Last I heard, the doctors said they both may be going a bit insane... sprouting something about a miracle child. Who knows?"
Mark and Abigail exchanged glances, and though they didn't speak, they were still able to convey their thoughts among one another.
"Thank you," Abigail responded, with a gentle grin on her face.
"So, hun," Mark said, turning towards Abigail, tilting his head slightly with curiosity. "What are we going to name the boy?" He asked.
Without missing a beat, Abigail responded, "Elijah... Yeah, that's right, his name will be Elijah Julius Carter."
The room went silent for a moment as the echo of the name Elijah Julius Carter settled in.
[Part 2: The Disaster
5 Years Later]
In the dimly lit living room, Abigail and Elijah sat bundled together under a thick blanket, the glow of the television flickering across their blank faces, like their minds weren't really there.
The front door creaked open.
"I'm home!" Mark's voice echoed through the house, but there was no response as if his voice failed to produce sound.
He stood waiting for a while, expecting something, but the only sound he heard in return was the TV from the living room.
"Tch! What was I expecting?" He muttered, tossing his keys to the side.
He made his way into the kitchen, his shoulders tense and heavy from working all day. He opened the fridge and pulled out a case of beer—still unopened, untouched since the day he bought them on his coworker's advice.
"Those two barely even acknowledge my existence nowadays, yet they've grown so close." He sighed before opening the refrigerator and reaching for a case of unopened beer.
*Sssssch!*
The hiss of the can opening rang louder than expected. He took a sip, "Eh! It's a bit bitter." He murmured but couldn't help but continue drinking, drowned by the alluring aroma it gave off.
The smell itself wasn't all that pleasant, but the feeling of the scent filling his nostrils just made Mark want to drink more.
"They barely acknowledge me anymore," he mumbled. "Abigail and that kid... they ignore me like I don't even exist.
*Sssssch!*
He downed the first can and then opened another.
*Sssssch!*
And another...
*Sssssch!*
Then another... soon the entire case was empty.
His thoughts went into turmoil as the alcohol numbed his senses and riled his anxiety.
"I'm beginning to wonder if that's even my kid. The boy looks nothing like me, and never once called me father. And when he looks at me, I can tell he's looking down." Mark's fingers reflexively began tapping against his forearm. " And her... always praising him like he's some kind of miracle. Hell, I can't even remember the last time we had a real conversation. It's always just 'Hey' or 'Hi' greetings rather than flirtation."
He turned towards the counter, eyes locked on the cutlery block.
"She's a mutant," he whispered. "What if she's been using her powers on me this whole time? Manipulating me… changing how I feel, what I believe? While she snuck behind my back, treating me as a tool to protect herself."
His breathing grew shallow, his hand brushed over the arrangement of knives in the cutlery block, gripping around the biggest one.
"I'm going to do what I should've done from the start, I'm going to give the boy up, maybe then I'll get that government promotion."
His face became twisted with a chaotic grin.
"Though before I get rid of those damm creatures. I'm going to make sure I can really enjoy myself, with that so-called wife of mine, without holding anything back."
The living room was still, and the sound of end credits played in the background. Abigail and Elijah seemed to be peacefully asleep in each other's arms.
Mark stood like a figure from a horror movie in the doorway, before he began walking towards the two, stumbling over different furniture and objects on his way.
*Crash!*
He knocked over a vase, but even then, at the sound of glass smashing against the floor, Abigail and Elijah remained unmoved, seemingly lifeless.
Mark moved closer.
He stood over their bodies with a twisted look of stress, forcibly tossing Elijah off the couch before prancing onto Abigail. Ruthlessly, he slashed away at her clothes.
When she was fully naked, her body was scarred by Mark's shaky knife control, with cut wounds scattered all across Abigail's body. But even then, somehow she remained asleep. Even as he proceeded to abuse her body for his own depraved desires, she remained asleep through it all.
By the time he was finished, sticky white liquid was leaking from every orifice she had. And when he gained the sudden urge to piss, he did so all over her body. He showed no restraint, treating her as nothing more than an object.
When he found no more use in her, he mercilessly pierced her heart with the giant kitchen knife in his hands.
He showed no emotions, only a twisted grin of drunken chaos.
Turning his head towards Elijah, he whispered, "Now, to deal with you, I might not be able to kill you, but I can sure ruff you up a bit."
...
Inside the boundless limits of his inner world, Elijah watched as his mother's consciousness suddenly began fading into a sparkling white light.
"Mom...? Mom!" He cried out with tears leaking from his eyes, and he began to wonder what the hell was going on.
Swiftly, he exited the space, only to see his half-naked father, seated atop his desecrated mother's naked body with a knife piercing through her chest.
In that moment, all he felt was anger. With a wave of his hand, he sent his father flying into a wall, forcing the drunkenness out of him. And with a snap of his finger, he cleaned up his mother's body and dressed her more appropriately.
It was then that Mark realized his mistake. The grave mistake he made of angering Elijah.
He had no choice but to call in backup if he wanted to save his life, even if he had little hope that backup would help. He grabbed his phone and dialed in the secret United States Mutant Containment Agency (M.U.A.). The government office where he worked.
They specialized in containing, experimenting with, and executing mutants. Officially, they didn't exist, but unofficially, they were the worst nightmare of any solo mutant.
While Mark escaped, Elijah sat next to his mother's lifeless corpse, attempting to bring her back with his powers... but nothing. No matter what he tried, there was nothing.
"No... no... no! You can't leave me, Mom..." He said, his voice shaky as he struggled to hold back his tears.
He mourned until he was interrupted by the sound of approaching helicopters and vehicles.
Soon, the entire house was surrounded, and soldiers dressed in all black began entering their formation as in sync as trained military special forces.
Leading them was a man dressed in an all black suit, it was... Mark. He guided the soldiers to the living room, where they surrounded Elijah. They began setting up strange devices around him as he focused on his mother.
When the devices were activated, soldiers began moving in with an inhibitor collar designed to suppress mutant power, but with a wave of his hand, Elijah sent the soldiers flying back as he stood up.
And he turned towards his father.
"This was you—you did this to her... I'm going to kill you."
He said calmly with malice oozing from his body as the entire house began to shake uncontrollably from the pressure of his psychokinesis. The soldiers were forced to their knees, unable to move, unable to do anything but bow.
"No! I'm sorry... I'm still your father, Elijah, wait!" Mark pleaded, but his cries were only met with silence.
Slowly, Elijah approached his father, step after step, building more fear in Mark's heart. When Elijah was right in front of him, he raised a finger to Mark's head and—
A sudden feeling engulfed Elijah; it forced him to his knees, but not before he finished breaking his father's psyche and trapping him in an eternal world of torture...
Torture that only grows as time passes. His mind and body will never die, and even death wouldn't be able to save him from his fate.
On the verge of becoming unconscious from the blast of multiple powerful mutant-suppressing devices that were all aligned side-by-side around the house. Elijah was still able to use what little strength he had left to crawl to his mother's side.
He did so before the soldier had the chance to wrap the collar around his neck.
Elijah sat there in tears, as his eyes began glowing violently red and violet, intertwining. When the inhibitor collar was placed around his neck, the entire room went silent, and the house stopped.
Then a strange energy began emanating from Elijah's body, it began engulfing the house, swallowing the soldiers inside its emptiness. Expanding, it soon absorbed the house itself into the abyss of its form, and the mutant suppressing devices were met with the same fate, along with a few other soldiers scattered outside.
Even helicopters that were low and close enough to be in range of the energy were sucked into the void.
When the energy vanished, everything that was caught inside vanished along with it.
All that was left was a now-unconscious Elijah, and his paralyzed father, who had blood leaking from every orifice of his body, who was only still there because Elijah willed his suffering.