A Bitter End

The conclusion to the first major plot point in the tale of The Vision Caster, Milo Jenkins.

As said before, the determination of whether someone is a hero, villain, or neutrality is obtained by looking at the morality behind the actions of the individual. If the actions are good �" hero. If bad �" villain. And so on and so forth.

When discussing morality, in relation to society's general viewpoint, we place certain 'crimes' or actions above others in some attempt to stop some atrocities in lieu of others. Generally, the pattern follows somewhat like this: Whatever hurts society more is the more egregious offense.

But when using this base for morality, there tends to be a large gray area. For example, let us look at Milo's current situation:

Assuming Milo killed (or murdered, depending on your view) his father, did Milo harm society? Milo's stepfather abused him constantly. The stepfather was a drunk, an abusive husband and father, and a negative force on society.

We all know the basic math principal �" a number minus a negative equals a positive. Does that not carry over into morality? Milo commits a negative action (murder), but towards a negative force (the stepdad). That then makes it a positive motion toward society's status. Or does it? What if murdering his stepfather causes Milo to lower his own status as a human being in and of himself as the negative force only applies to Milo? What of the effects the muder would have on his family, specifically his mother? Does this then cancel out the positive effect of the murder and make it negative toward society?

As the interpreter, the determination is up to you and you alone. I cannot tell you whether it is morally upright, morally downright, or a neutral force on society. All sides have their argument point, and you must choose a side. Indifference is not an option in a debate on morality.

The methods one would use in the murder would affect the morality of the action though, correct? Like if a man murders someone with a quick death, or by a slow painful one? The morality shifts ever so slightly or ever so greatly in either direction of right or wrong.

To let you make this decision (arguably your greatest decision of Milo's morality at this point) I must show you all aspects of the situation. We begin this segment not long after we left off in the previous telling of Milo's encounters. Milo is found staying over at his friend's (the same one agreeing to the murder).

“Hey Milo? You still up?”

The room quieted back down, silent with the lack of reply. The silence began to roar from deep within the room, bouncing off the walls. Finally the silence was softly broken with Milo releasing a weak sigh saying, “Yes....What do you want? It's like 2 am...”

“Oh, nothing. Sorry. I didn't know you were still asleep. We'll talk later”

“No, I'm up now. Ask your stupid question...”

“I'll just ask later, I can wait.”

“You'll ask it now...I didn't wake up for nothin'”

“Ok, but don't be all moody tomorrow...or later today...or whatever. You know what I-”

“Ask the question!”

“Ok, ok. I got to wondering. If you were to kill your stepdad, how would you do it? Like, evidence and all that?”

“I don't know yet. I really haven't given my methods much thought.”

This was indeed a lie on Milo's behalf. The murder of his stepfather was the only idea consistently pressing upon his mind. He pondered it daily �" hourly, even. Imagining hanging his father off the top of a building, seeing his neck begin to rip and tear, all the while being beaten senseless, much like Milo was himself. He thought of shooting him in the head, making quick, easy work of him...having to deal with him no longer. He thought of taking a dull blade and slowly cutting his stepdad across the fingers, then the arm, and onward up his body searing the wounds so he would not bleed out. Then finally, once all the enjoyment of this torturing monstrosity had ceased to flow, he would slice open his throat and watch as the blood poured slowly down his body. This topic was not something taken lightly. Any method he could think of, he planned. Oh he planned and planned and planned. The thoughts ensnared his mind, turning dreams into pleasant nightmares where Milo was the ringleader. “Haven't given it much thought”? This couldn't be further from the truth.

“Well, you probably should!” let out Milo's friend with a laugh, “I don't want you to get in any trouble that is.”

Despite knowing off the power to control minds, Milo hadn't given it much thought, let alone practice. Thus far, the only person Milo had done it on was his friend �" too afraid to do try it on anyone else. Milo tried reversing the effect, but his attempt proved futile. Nothing would change.

“Don't worry, I'll work it out”, Milo assured.

“I know, but how?”

“I don't know! I simply don't know yet, ok!? Just let me be.”

“Hey! You two kids need to be getting' to sleep up there, ok? No more shouting!” the friend's mother shouted hypocritically.

The two began to whisper back and forth.

“Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to push ya. I know the topic of your stepdad is kinda touchy.”

“It's fine. Sorry I went off on ya, you were only trying to help me stay safe.”

“It's kinda bizarre for us to be even talking about this, isn't it? I mean...you and I, planning a murder? Wow. Just...wow.”

“I know, but it needs to be done. I need it to be done.”

“ And we will. We most certainly will, Milo. I promise.”

The room went silent for a few minutes when suddenly Milo came to a glorious, or despicable, realization �" he can control minds. He can control his stepdad's mind.

Milo thought to himself, “How can I even plan this? If my stepdad dies, my friend will know I was involved and want to know how. But, if I do it any other way I can very easily get caught. It would be nice having someone else to share this with, I suppose. Yea, I guess I'll tell him. Later though.”

An hour passed by and Milo was still awake, busy staring at the ceiling fan rotating ever so quickly. He kept trying to follow a singular blade and “make the fan go slower” with his mind. It didn't work, but still...

Another hour, and again, and again followed another and, before Milo could tell, the alarm sounded signaling time for both to get up and ready for school. Milo jumped at the sound, eagerly awaiting the conversation with his friend.

“Hey, I need to tell you something.”

“Woa, woa woa...calm down mate. I just woke up...”, said as he slowly rubbed his eyes, still adjusting the the light flashing on.

“Ok, but it's real important.”

“Fine...what?”

“You know those cartoons and comics of superheroes?”

“Ummm, yea? What does that have - “

“You know the telepaths?”

“Sorta, why?”

“Ummm, well, I am one. Kinda...a bit different.”

“Ok, thats good to know. I'm going back to sleep.”

“No, wait, I'm serious.”

“Yep, and so am I. Head.To.Pillow.”

“I'm not joking man. I can make people see and believe things.”

“I don't have time for this. Prove it.”

“I...can't. If I did, I could harm someone's mind. It's too- oh! But I can do something else! My mind can create these 'light' type things. They help somehow. I don't really know what to call 'em officially, but I've given them the name of Fulsi. It's Latin or something.”

“Ok? And what? How do you want to show me this?”

“Well, I can't make others see it.”

“I see...well, thats just too bad.”

“Wait, would you happen to have a rubik's cube?”

“Yea, over on my shelf. Why?”

“Here, go grab it, please.”

He walked over and grabbed the already jumbled cube and handed it to Milo.

“Good luck. I've been fiddling with it for years. Not even google could fix that one...”

“Just watch.”

Milo held out the cube in front of him and up came a beam of a Rubik's cube (Milo became far beyond waiting for the precursor flashes). The rubik's cube slowly began to turn, gaining speed and eventually going faster than Milo could read �" but he understood.

Milo then took the rubiks cube in both hands and within 12 seconds had it solved and sitting on the table with his moth's friend currently dropping toward the floor.

“How did you...what? I didn't know you were that good with a Rubik's cube.”

“That's the thing, I'm not. I saw this flash in my mind and it told me where to move the colors. I can try it again if you'd like.”

“No, no. I guess I'll believe you for now. But eventually I'll need some further explanation.”

“Sure, but I got to thinking. I can use this to somewhat control other people's mind. What if I were to 'change' or manipulate my stepdad's mind into killing himself? That way, it's perfectly clean. No one will suspect us.”

“If you can, then, I guess...that would work. It's kinda genius actually.”

“I thought so. I can control it almost at any time, so when do you want to do it?”

“Ummmm, in a few days. Still need to wrap my mind around this.”

“Sure thing. Just tell me when. And, thanks...Johnathon”

“Will do. No problem.”

The two went off to school, staying hidden from each other. Both were slightly ashamed to see the other, but more so ashamed at how the other looked at them. Fourth period rolled around and Milo walked into his Statistics class. He noticed a girl crying in her desk.

“Hey, what's wrong? You ok?”

The girl put up her hand, trying to signal she didn't want to talk. She was too ashamed to show her tear infused eyes to the class. But Milo pressed a little harder and the girl gave out a weak, “No. I'm just not.”

“Well, what's wrong? Can I help?”

“No, you can't. You can't bring him back...no one can. You can't get the insurance to help either. No one can do anything...”

“What? What happened?”

“It-It's my dad...he committed suicide about two weeks ago. Now we need money, but the insurance refuses to pay. Keep saying they don't 'cover' suicides. I don't know... I just don't.”

“Hey, don't worry. You'll get through it eventually, I promise.”

“How can you promise that? Hmm? Thats right...you can't. Just let me be.”

At this point Milo just assumed to leave toward his desk. He sat back down and tried to pay attention to the teacher when something struck him. “They don't 'cover' suicides....”

“What if my insurance doesn't? Then I'll truly be screwed, won't I...No, I can't make him commit suicide. But wait! I could always get my friend to kill him directly.! Yeah! Just control him and convince him to kill my stepdad. That would work! He'll claim I made him do it...claim I 'controlled his mind' �" they'll think he's gone nuts! It's perfect.”

The plan was set in stone, set in mind, and set in soul. Nothing could change Milo's mind now. Later that night Milo crawled into his bed and started his 'ritual'. He thought of Johnathon, in everything he knew him to be, and all he intended for him to do. For hours he concentrated upon this idea, this thought. The energy poured through and out of his mind, causing the surrounding area to glow in lightning-like rays protruding from Milo's skull. Finally, Milo commanded the thought to flee toward Johnathon.

Mio looked into the sky, to see it light up like before, but something was different...something was wrong. Generally, the light had a pale yellowish red tint to it, but now it carried a darker purplish black. It was near impossible to pick out as it almost perfectly matched the night sky. Why, you ask? Dark thoughts breed dark results.

The dark light crashed through the walls of Johnathon's room and slammed into his brain. Johnathon woke with a bright gasp with a heavy mind and a polluted soul. He lifted up his arm and balled his hand into a fist...ready for the task.

Johnathon quickly darted out of bed, slipped on the darkest shirt and pants he could, and darted off downstairs. He scrambled to unlock his father's gun safe, but he didn't have the skill. He instead took a knife, ran to his car, and drove over to Milo's home.

He ran up to the door and turned the handle to no avail. He tried running around the yard to the back entrance, but much too his dismay, the result remained the same. There was one last trick up his sleeve. Johnathon knew if he kicked the door down, the entire family would hear it, but if he managed to go through the crawl space, he just may be able to climb up the hatch to the basement.

He circled around to the side of the building and unlatched the door and crawled in. He squirmed through the tight crevice, trying to ignore the ominous hissing. Finally he reached what appeared to be a ladder. He climbed up to the top and opened the hatch to the basement �" he was in.

Slowly he opened the door into the hallway connecting the living room to the staircase. Up he slowly went on the stairs, trying to not make a sound �" shifting his weight to what he thought was even with every step. Three steps further and the step made a loud creek. Panicking, Johnathon tried to hide the knife to make sure that if he was caught, he would still be somewhat ok.

After waiting a few minutes, he re-armed himself and continued toward the parents' bedroom. He pushed the door open and tip-toed over to the side where the stepfather slept. He drew the knife and held it over the stepdad, almost ceremoniously. Then he thought to himself, “This is it. This is finally it. Milo is going to be so proud,” and he plunged the knife into the his side and stabbed repeatedly.

After about the fourth or fifth stab, the mother woke up and began screaming. Milo quickly rushed up stairs and bashed open the door, seeing what had occurred. He tried to keep his smile hidden, as to not give himself away, so instead encased his smile with a superficial anger.

“John! Wha-what are you doing! Get back, get away!”

“It's done Milo, I did it. I did it for you. Don't you see?”

“For me? Why! Why would you kill my father?!”

In this moment, John realized what he had done. Suddenly his mind became clear. He looked down at the knife and cast it aside trying to forget. He tried covering his eyes, but the blood dripping from his hands only re-emphasized the deed. All he could do was fall to the ground and weep.

Moments passed and finally the police arrived, having their sirens sing to the mourning of the mother. The police rushed in, slammed John to the wall and took him into custody.

“You have the right to remain silent.”

Not a second passed before John used his right of omission toward silence.

“Take Milo! Not me! He made me do it, I swear! Don't, please. I'm innocent.”

The police shoved him in the vehicle and took him to the local precinct. Upon arrival, they threw him in an interrogation room.

“hello Johnathon. I'm a local police detective. Before we begin, I would like to make you aware that you have the right to an attorney. Should you-”

“Nah, I don't need one. I'm innocent in all this.”

“Of course you are. Now, let me ask you a few questions.”

“Why were you at the Jenkin's home?”

“I was their to kill my friend's stepfather. And I did.”

“I'm sorry? I thought you said you were innocent?”

“I am. I was being controlled.”

“Oh, of course. By who?”

“Milo. He told me he can make people do things...like, control their mind. He was going to kill his stepfather using it, but I gues he changed his mind.”

“So, you're saying Milo controlled your mind to make you come break into his apartment at 3 am wearing all black and to stab his father with a knife four times in his abdomen?”

“Look, I know it sounds insane, but it's true. Just ask him, he'll tell you.”

“We'll be speaking with the victim's family later on. I think that's all I need from you at the moment. I'll be back later.”

The police put John in a holding cell for the night and waited until morning to speak with the family. Once the clock rolled around to about 11 am, the police knocked on the door and asked to talk to Milo privately.

In order to observe John's reaction to Milo's testimony, they placed him on the opposite side. John could see Milo, but Milo didn't know Johnathon was present.

“Hey Milo, take a seat. This shouldn't take all that long.”

“Alright. Ummm, is Johnathon here?”

“Nope, just you and me. Please, take a seat. So, how long have you and Johnathon been friends?”

“A few years. We met at school a while back. I wasn't ever really the coolest guy, but he was nice to me.”

“Any reason why Johnathon would want your stepdad gone?”

“Not that I can tell. I mean, I told him my stepdad kept beating me, but I didn't think he'd kill him.”

“Ok. I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but Johnathon mentioned you saying you were going to kill your stepdad by mind control? What do you think he means?”

“I'm sorry? Mind control? Like...sci-fi voodoo trash? What kind of question is that? No, I didn't want my stepfather dead. Yea, he hit me, but I loved him.”

“He mentioned that you 'made' him kill your dead by using the same method.”

“Look, I don't care what that crazed idiot said. I didn't want my father dead and I certainly didn't use any 'mind-control' on anyone.”

Across the room and through the hall stood Johnathon, trying not to well up with tears. He masqueraded his sadness with anger and hate and dashed toward the glass, pounding on it as hard as he could, screaming, “Liar! You liar! You did this...you did all of this...”

“I'm sorry, ill be right back.”

“I thought you said it was just you and me?"

“It is, I'll be back in a moment.”

“No, we're done. Call me back in later if you actually want to speak one on one.”

The police officer let Milo out of the room and walked him to the exit.

“I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Jenkins.”

Milo turned around and pushed through the door with a devilish grin.