[ PROLOGUE: TIMOTHY GREY, THE LIVING SANCTUARY ]
[ "Stop running!" ]
[ "Then stop chasing me, estúpedo!" ]
[ "That... that actually makes a lot of sense. Why didn't I think of that?" ]
Timothy thought, as he then gave a low and simple cackle. Though to others his low actually means loud.
Before then regaining his bearing as he then did his thing and touched the ground using his cane, activating his powers in turn, summoning an undead to his bidding— in this case, Phantoms.
[ "Frigus adsum. Anima, veni. Vocem meam audi, et obtemepra. Formam assume, nunc manifesta!" ]
He never really did understand why it has to be long and complicated each time he summoned one, never getting behind that part of magic. But who is he to complain? At least it works, compared to those phony carnival magic books that don't do jack shit.
[ "Ughhh, my fuckin' head hurts. I hate this stupid wacky power, shit." ]
He finished the chant, and out of the circle on the ground that appeared, are two entities; practically the same. In the cost of a headache that is, a small price.
Both said entities are nearly corporal, without feet and legs, and oh, are true to life phantoms that feed on emotions. Strong negative emotions, these ones particularly love and enjoy fear.
[ "Go, kill that lowlife thug!" ]
[ "No, Sanctuary, we need him alive." ] His earpiece talked, to be more accurate, the Dispatcher on the line— a friend of his, Mandy. Which is also his boss, someone he needs to obey, [ "We need to find out where he hid the children, to save them." ]
[ "Nevermind then, just maim him." ] He thought about it for a second, remembering what the man did, before then slightly changing his command to the Phantoms. [ "Thanks for the reminder BB. Seriously maim the guy!" ]
Timothy in anger, glanced at the back of the criminal which is slowly getting away from him, in the alleyway. But turned to confusion as he noticed something, [ "Wait where are the Phantom-?" ]
So he looked up, at the Phantoms which was supposed to chase the said criminal, in which they aren't doing. Instead, they are looking at him, seemingly waiting for something like lost puppies. [ "Oh yeah, I forgot. Go!" ] To be precise, at the magic word; Go! Which they reacted to.
And just like the oversized pups they are... Oversized, dead, emotion-feeding pups; they then flew faster than a man could run, and instantly caught up with the said child kidnapper without problem at all.
Though the kidnapper thought he was safe due to him having been able to reach the street past the alleyway, where it is crowded due to an event— a Mr. Whiskey, an oversized orange cat mascot, meetup.
[ "I am safe. I'm finally saf--" ] He stopped, words caught inside his throat as he felt something go wrong with the temperature, feeling cold. But not normal every day cold, instead it felt more like freezing death cold.
Which shouldn't be, so in curiosity he turned around to look for a single second, and before he could even register it. Monsters, they appeared right in front of his eyes in broad daylight, faceless monsters.
[ "W-wait." ] He felt one touch his face, staring at his eyes. The other, grabbing his leg, levitating him, pulling him back to the alleyway as he slowly lost consciousness.
[ "NO, SAVE ME!!" ] The criminal, a renowned child kidnapper, felt fear for the first time as he then tried to reach out to the other person nearby. At the supposed hero.
[ "Hands off, bitch. They're brand new." ] At the mask wearing superhero, which then swatted his hand away with a single flick from his cane. Giving no attention to him, as the said supposed hero walked past.
[ "Finally, coffee! Hadn't had one since... hours back." ] Not at all caring about the common criminal, Timothy walked with stride, letting a car go first before then crossing the street. To the Mr. Whiskey Cart, which sells high quality ice coffee.
Letting the excited, eccentric Phantoms do their work, all the while feeding off of the unknown criminal. Getting his emotions sucked out, and beaten up in the process. All the while as quietly as possible.
[ "Excuse me is this the line?" ] Instead of the criminal, he was instead focused on getting in line. And when he received a nod, he then went and stood at the farthest back of the line, which is long. Give or take, 7 minutes max type of long.
[ "Sanctuary, what are you doing?" ] Mandy, he's Dispatcher asked, genuinely confused, and also because children at this point are still missing. [ "Get him to the station." ]
Timothy who knows that'll take more time in comparison to his interrogation methods didn't follow it, and also because he wants a coffee from the renowned Mr. Whiskey himself; he drank one once, turned into a full-grown caffeine lover. Now cursed to always drink coffee thrice a day.
[ "Everything's under control, BB. Don't worry about a thing." ] He assured, causing some of the customers in line to look at him in confusion, eyeing him like he's some sort of a weirdo. [ "FYI, I'm not talking to myself. I'm talking to a friend." ]
Timothy to not appear like a weirdo in their eyes, then gestured to the earpiece sticking out on his right ear, that helped. But perhaps the fact that he's in full "superhero" costume and is holding a pimp-like cane, that may still look weird in their eyes.
[ "Listen, Timothy, this is not a game. Get that man to the nearest police sta-!" ]
[ "And get cut off~" ] He removed the earpiece from his ear as he then pocketed it, this move silenced her for the time being. Sure, it would lead to him getting scolded later, but he really doesn't care.
He much rather be reprimanded by one of the hottest girls he knows than talk to the nearest cop in his vicinity, who would? Definitely not him, he hates them to the bone, he much rather eat shit than do th... On second thought, not that last part.
After a few minutes of waiting, the line finally cleared up and gave way so that Timothy could order. And order he did as he sprang back to life, chattering with the friendly mascot, which is his favorite.
[ "Alright, Whiskey, I'll be having." ] In the span of him waiting, he narrowed down his choices to the best three in his opinion. And still, he is conflicted on what to choose.
[ A) BLACK COFFEE ]
[ B) IRISH CREAM ]
[ C) CARAMEL MACCHIATO ]
The said mascot staring at his soul, wide-eyed, stains of coffee in some parts even though it's wearing an apron. Patiently waiting for the next order. Timothy finally locked in, as he chose the sweetest.
[ "I'll be having one of those irish cream things, on the go, yeah." ] Timothy hadn't tasted it before, but he had heard of glowing reviews on socials about them.
But in realizing he needs to give an adequate gift to his summons, to end the deal, he then ordered more. [ "Actually, make that four, Mr. Whiskey." ]
Each for the Phantoms, the rest for him. Though they might not drink, as they are incapable and uninterested in drinks after all, so he then picked something else. Quickly noticing something that his little friends would like, [ "And uhh- how much for those keychains over there?" ]
[ -----| SCENE BREAK |----- ]
[ "The children a-are in 221A Carpenter Street, th-they are there, I promise. Please don't hu-hurt me anymore." ] Timothy didn't touch the thug once, but he easily did up and up and revealed everything in one-go. Even hidden traumas that he didn't ask.
That is thanks to the abilities of his Phantoms, they are able to resurface the most horrifying memory of the target, playing it over and over again until satisfied. Thanks to that, everything is solved.
And to end the contract he made with the said Phantoms, he gave them each a keychain; a Mr. Whiskey keychain in different clothes. [ "One pizza Whiskey for you, and one barista Whiskey you." ]
The Phantoms which he never really was able to distinguish, tilted their heads to look at the offering being given to them. Before then nodding, accepting it, levitating the said keychain each before disappearing into a thick cloud of mist. [ "Huh." ]
For a second he glanced at the cup of coffees that he is carrying, he deliberately didn't offer them early in case the Phantoms didn't/did want them. Guess he was right on doing that. [ "I guess that means more for me then." ]
[ "A-are the E-espíritu finally gone?" ]
[ "Hmm? Oh, oh yeah, they are. Don't worry." ] He reassured the man, which is curled up in the alleyway, near the dumpster like a baby. [ "The contract that I've made with them is done." ]
[ "R-really?!" ]
[ "Yup!" ] He answered, liking the genuine happiness slowly showing on the man's face. Though that was partially blocked due to him drinking from his cup, chugging the sweet irish cream down his gullet.
[ "Thank y-you, thank you!" ] The thug in not feeling that chill anymore, slowly stood up, albeit still on guard. Excitement spray painted all over his tattooed face that has demons all over it. [ "I-I promise I'll change, I'll change. I'll never go back to kidnapping children, I'll start a business." ]
[ "I don't really care what you do, I just want my rank to increase." ] Huh? What the fuck is this guy talking about? Timothy never did say anything about letting him go after catching him. This isn't catch and release.
[ "And sad for you, you need to be behind bars for that to happen." ] He raised his cane high up like a serial killer, that ending a victim. Before then strike it down hard and fast, knocking the man unconscious amidst his cries of plea about changing or something-something bullshit. [ "Goodnight." ]
[ ---------- ] [ ---------- ] [ ---------- ] [ ---------- ]
[ FUN FACT: The Phoenix Program or Z-Team is a rehabilitation initiative run by the Superhero Dispatch Network (SDN) in hopes to reform and utilize ex-supervillains. Z-Team is the most dysfunctional, overlooked and lowest-ranked team there is under SDN, thus the name. ]
[ 11/13/2025 ]
[ 11/14/2024 ]