Goals

John Doe POV

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Breath after breath, step after step, spike after spike.

The pancakes filled with jam and cream tasted almost as bland as my coffee.

It was always the same these days, with what was left of my savings dwindling at speeds only rivaled by the plummet of my mental health.

It was so often I couldn't anymore, when the pull to go back to her got so strong as I huddled inside my motel room. Those days it was hard to dust off my dirty suit and go shave in a toilet stall in motel. Those days when it didn't feel worth it to clean off my glasses, so I could see again.

Those days when all I wanted to do was to lay down and... not. Just keep laying there, as if that would fix the empty feeling inside of me.

The only reason I hadn't gone back to her, like an addict begging for his next hit, was because I knew where this empty feeling came from.

Her. It was always her it came back to. My powers sang the answer to me eagerly, -each word, no, a word would be insufficient to describe it, a concept, with the energy of a thousand planets undergoing nuclear fusion - a giant crystalline planet that bound itself to a girl with little care for what those she left behind did.

Even now, after I ran to a different state, it was always about HER!

The coffee spilled over my hand as my mug shattered in my grip, and I barely noticed it spikes jutting out of my skin gave me strength and durability to shrug it off.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Breath after breath, step after step, and spike after spike, I reminded myself.

One of seven receded into my skin.

Two. Three. Four.

And I started to really feel it, the scalding heat on my skin where the hot liquid hadn't simply dripped off.

At five, it started to sting, at six it started to hurt and at seven I truly felt it.

"John, are you doing alright?" a high, almost shrill but not quite, voice asked.

Taylor. The fact that the girl working in this cafe would probably be unable to hurt a fly had the same name as a feared warlord would never fail to brighten my day.

"Yes Taylor, you don't need to worry so much about me. It was just a little coffee." We both knew that she wasn't talking about the spilled coffee.

An awkward silence descended, even as the surrounding chatter continued.

"So," she said, cutting through the silence, "can you check my homework? I just got off my shift."

"Of course," I said, smiling a real smile as our conversation steered into an area I was comfortable with, "please sit down." I gestured to the seat next to me.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Sitting here and teaching someone almost felt natural, as I learned something new.

[Keeper of the Punished], whispered the thing with the energy of a million dying worlds, [Emulation][Duty][Carry][The Eye] it continued, each word something I would never understand, but I understood one thing.

I don't need to be someone to live. I can build up my life again.

___________________________

I didn't leave the cafe that day with a skip in my step, but I would like to say my head was held a bit higher.

I was learning to be an engineer, damn it. I could handle this, and if I couldn't, I would simply make the tools so I could.

I'm sure there are a few inventions I could patent, although reading up on some law may be needed.

In. Out.

I could still do more than survive. I could live again, and this time without her.

A small smile crept onto my face, and for the first time in a long time I felt hope.

_______________________________

The sun was starting to fall down under the horizon, and I hadn't found a single useful thing about patents.

I suppose I could do the work of rich school children trying to skip some school work for a bit longer.

Still though, it was less pathetic then working at the post office next door, right?

At least they are getting paid soon.

I laid down on the worn out motel mattress, an old and ratty thing that wasn't even mine, but just for a few seconds it felt like it was mine.

I didn't have to do anything. Maybe I, John Doe, already existed in this story, and there was not a damn thing I could change.

The thought comforted and scared me. I would have no duty to save the world, because I would fail if I tried, in case that was true, but it would also mean I would fail if I tried.

But I didn't have to try, I realised. What did I owe to this world?

Who here did I owe a debt? Why should they need me to save them when they already had cauldron?

They didn't, and the heavy weight across my shoulders lifted itself and I felt free as sleep claimed me.

___________________________________

Shouts woke me.

No, that was not true. Shouts stirred me from my sleep, not quite waking me, as I fumbled around in the dark for my glasses.

And the moment they were in my grasp truly woke up, the sound of wood splintering and snapping pushing me awake.

A second, no, less then a second later, my arm was held in an impossibly strong grip, my arm held by the man standing in the doorway, with his arms behind his back and smiling as he flicked the light on without touching flipping any switches.

I was helpless. But I couldn't be.

I had to fulfill my [Role], and this one was of lower standing.

And so I did.

Spikes shot out of my right arm into the floor as I crushed my glasses in my grip.

And my attacker was shocked, shock that I took advantage of as I pulled my arm forth and pushed my legs with strength far beyond what a human should be able to exert.

And I was on him, grabbing his left arm with my own and tearing with a horrible, wet ripping sound, as I used my right to staple his other arm to what remained of the door, letting go of the spikes after I put them there.

Out, out and out.

He said nothing as I clenched my hand around his jaw, probably breaking something.

Nothing but whimpers.

He was small, I noted, as I began to pull, and he began to scream.

So very small, as his limp body began to fall off the spike I skewered him on, his arm slowly being cutting in half along its length by the force of his own weight.

I couldn't be free without power.

And.

Two men came running around the corner and looked towards me, towards us.

I.

I smiled as one of them turned tail and ran, as I didn't need him.

Need.

I clenched my hand, an unnecessary movement, but I did it nonetheless, as the air around his jaw was held in a grip five times stronger than I was.

Power.

I pushed my way towards him at impossible speeds, and when I tried to grab his jaw I found nothing but blood and shards of bone slipping through my fingers.

My bloodied hand colored his blond hair brown as I pulled, and he found out that screaming when your tounge has been turned into a red mist and your throat is filling up with blood and bone is hard.

But he tried, and he failed.

Like I had, but now I had power.

Power to never fail again.