Chương 9: MATERIALIZATION I

The man's robe dropped to the ground with a soft whisper of fabric, and then he was gone—a blur of movement, a shadow streaking across the moonlit night.

Before I could blink, the air was split by the clash of metal on metal. Sparks erupted from the collision of swords, and the two combatants blurred into a frenzy of motion. My father's form, once so familiar, was now a whirlwind of power and determination.

The metallic symphony of clashing swords filled the air, each strike sending shockwaves through the stillness.

They moved with blinding speed, a dance of blades and skill, each movement a calculated maneuver to gain the upper hand. The power behind their strikes was awe-inspiring, and I could only watch in breathless silence as they weaved through the moonlit night.

Amidst the chaos of battle, a new presence emerged—my mother, Crystal, her face etched with worry and fear.

Her gaze fell on me, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the blood on my face and the lifeless body of the man pierced by the spike-shaped rock. Without hesitation, she rushed to my side, holding me close in a protective embrace.

"Jay, my sweet boy," she whispered, her voice laced with concern. Tears welled in her eyes as she cradled me, her touch a soothing balm against the storm raging within me.

"I... I killed someone, Mom," I stammered, my voice trembling. The weight of my actions bore down on me, a burden I struggled to comprehend.

"What I had done was still engulfing me, like a sense of regret,"I thought to myself

Crystal's eyes filled with sorrow and empathy, her lips pressed against my forehead in a gentle kiss.

"It was self-defense, Jay. You had to protect yourself. Don't carry that burden alone."

As the battle raged on, another threat emerged—one of the remaining thieves, emboldened by chaos and cruelty.

He advanced upon my mother with a sinister leer, his grip on her hair cruel and unyielding.

His words were a vile mix of taunts and obscenities, his intent clear as he invaded her personal space.

He was obscene as he grabbed my mom's breasts caressing her all over.It was a sight so vile.

Fear gripped me anew, my heart racing as I watched the man's actions unfold.

But then something within me snapped—a primal rage, an unquenchable fire. My eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, a violet radiance that matched the hair that flowed in the wind around me.

"No," I muttered inwardly, a memory from a distant past resurfacing—an echo of screams, of helplessness. "I won't let it happen again."

I stood, a mixture of dread and determination pooling in my chest. The air seemed to tremble in response to my emotions, the atmosphere crackling with energy as if it sensed the storm brewing within me.

It was at that moment things happened in an instant, without warning they struck.

From the very earth beneath us, two spike-shaped rocks erupted with an almost primal force. Rising like vengeful phantoms, they seemed to carry the weight of my determination, their jagged forms gleaming with an otherworldly darkness.

As if guided by some unseen hand, they intersected in a perfect convergence, forming a lethal X that seemed to mark the very spot of the man who had threatened to shatter our lives.

In that breathless moment, time itself seemed to stretch, the night's air heavy with anticipation.

And then, with an intensity that shook the very ground, the spikes lunged forth.

Their tips glinted wickedly under the moon's pale gaze as they sped toward their target. Impact was inevitable, and when it came, it was as if the world itself recoiled from the violent collision.

The force of their meeting was accompanied by a sickening sound—a wet, crunching noise that resonated in the stillness of the night. Blood burst forth in a grisly symphony, painting the air with a grotesque hue as it splattered across the scene.

My mother, Crystal, stood mere steps away, her eyes wide with shock as crimson droplets speckled her face. The very fabric of her reality seemed to warp and shatter with the horror before her eyes, the realization of the life-altering moment that had unfolded in mere heartbeats.

As the echoes of impact faded, a heavy silence descended, a mournful hush as nature itself seemed to grieve the violence it had witnessed.

The man's body, skewered by the force I had conjured, hung limply upon the cruel spikes of stone. His twisted form was suspended in the air, a grotesque puppet in a sinister play.

I watched, my own breath catching in my throat, as my mother slowly sank to her knees. The blood-splattered scene mirrored her shock, her hands trembling as they reached out as if to touch the unreality of the moment. And then, with a haunting grace, she collapsed, her body meeting the earth as if seeking refuge from the horrors that had encroached upon our lives. In that moment, the weight of what I had done crashed upon me like an avalanche, threatening to bury me in a sea of guilt and disbelief.

The very ground beneath me seemed to tremble with the enormity of my actions, and I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the macabre tableau before me.

The moon, a silent witness to the chaos and tragedy that had unfolded, cast its cold light upon the scene. The world felt surreal, as if suspended between the before and after of this harrowing encounter. The air was tainted with the metallic scent of blood and the lingering energy of magic—a potent cocktail that marked the boundary between innocence and the harsh realities of survival.

With my strength waning, I stumbled forward, my legs heavy as if weighted by the burden of the night. My father, Michael, emerged from the chaos, his form battered and bloodied, yet his eyes held a fierce determination that mirrored my own.

Our gazes met, an unspoken understanding passing between us— "move back," I uttered, as my eyes glowed in purple and my snow-white hair, now covered in blood moving swiftly within the wind.

A sweat rolled down my father's cheeks as stared at me in disbelief, but without hesitation he heed his five-year-old son's words.

"Hold mom, and protect her," I added coldly.

//// NEXT CHAPTER: MATERIALIZATION II ////

Edited by: JJ