It's Not My Fault . . .

He sped over house tops, through roads, ontop of cars, just speeding, speeding back to his HQ.  He could hear Shade screaching at him from behind, but there was nothing he could do.  Nothing.

He wasn't doing all of this on purpose.  He really wasn't.  There was a chip implanted in the center of his heart, and one in his brain.  It controled him.  At times, controled him completely.  Other times they could erase his memory at will, and then give him his will power back to make frainds and gain trust, as they had this time.  Then they would return his memory, give him his reall powers back, and then begin to control him again.  This was his life, and he hated every moment of it, or at least every moment of it in which he had his memory . . .

He enjoyed having his powers back, though.  The freedom.  The speed, and not needing to worry he might suddenly break down and start crying all of the sudden all of the time.  He tried not to worry about what he was going to do to them.  There was nothing he could do.  And unfortunetly, nothing they could do either.  They would all be trapped, even the Elf with the treehouse which could move into other dimensions.

It's Not My Fault . . . He told himself, It's not my fault . . .

The End

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