A.L.T.E.R.N.A.T.E

The next day, Lucias found himself walking through the busy streets of the city, lost in his own thoughts. The events of the previous night played over and over in his mind, like a broken record he couldn't stop. His knuckles still ached, and the bruises were a stark reminder of something he couldn't fully remember. He felt disconnected, as though the person who fought the robbers wasn't him at all.

The crowded sidewalks and honking cars barely registered. His world felt quiet despite the chaos around him. But as much as he tried to keep his head down and push forward, something about the world didn't feel quite right. He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that someone was watching him.

As he turned onto a quieter street, he stopped abruptly, his breath hitching. There was a faint reflection in the glass window of a shop nearby—a man standing across the street, staring directly at him. The man wore a dark hoodie pulled low over his face, but Lucias could feel the intensity of his gaze. He turned his head to look directly at him, but the man was gone.

"Get a grip, Lucias," he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he continued walking. But the unease in his chest only grew.

Frank and Troy stood at the center of a dimly lit warehouse. The air was damp, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed around them. Opposite them stood Vince, the leader of a local gang, with three of his men lounging casually behind him, clearly unimpressed by the two teens standing before them.

Vince leaned against a metal pillar, twirling a knife in his hand, his piercing eyes studying Frank and Troy like prey. "Alright, you two. I don't usually take requests from kids, but you called me. So, talk. What's the problem?"

Frank, still sporting a faint bruise on his cheek, stepped forward. He tried to appear tough, but his fidgeting betrayed his nerves. "We've got a job for you, Vince. There's this guy… He needs to be taught a lesson."

Vince arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. "A 'lesson,' huh? And what makes you think I'm interested? I don't babysit, kid."

Troy, the taller and burlier of the two, slammed his fist into his palm. "This ain't no babysitting job, Vince. This guy… He's dangerous. We tried to take him on ourselves, and he humiliated us. Left us looking like fools."

Vince chuckled, tossing his knife into the air and catching it with ease. "You're telling me a couple of kids got roughed up, and now you want me to clean up your mess? Why don't you run home to mommy instead?"

Frank clenched his fists, his face reddening with anger. "Listen, Vince. This isn't just about a fight. This guy's not normal. One second, he's this quiet, scrawny loser. The next, he's a complete maniac. He took us both down like we were nothing."

Troy nodded, his tone bitter. "We're not asking for a favor. We're paying you. We want this guy broken, Vince. We want him to know he messed with the wrong people."

At the mention of payment, Vince's interest piqued. He straightened up, his smirk widening. "Now you're speaking my language. How much are we talking?"

Frank pulled out an envelope and handed it to Vince. "Five grand upfront. Another five once the job's done."

Vince opened the envelope, flipping through the stack of cash. He let out a low whistle. "Not bad for a couple of kids. So, what's the plan? You want me to rough him up, or are we going all the way?"

Troy shook his head. "We don't want him dead. Just… beaten. Humiliated. We want him to know not to mess with us ever again."

Vince's grin turned predatory. "You want him scared. You want him broken. I can work with that. But if this guy's as dangerous as you say, I'll need backup. That means the price goes up. Ten grand won't cut it."

Frank's eyes widened. "What? We're already giving you everything we've got!"

Vince stepped closer, towering over Frank. His voice was calm, but there was an edge of menace to it. "If this guy's some kind of freak, like you're saying, I'm not risking my men for chump change. You want this done right? You pay. Or you can take your little revenge fantasy somewhere else."

Frank hesitated, glancing at Troy. After a tense moment, he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. We'll get you the extra money. Just make sure this guy doesn't walk away without knowing who's in charge."

Vince smirked, pocketing the envelope. "That's more like it. Now, tell me about this guy. Where can I find him?"

Troy handed Vince a crumpled piece of paper with an address scribbled on it. "This is where he lives. You'll know him when you see him. Just don't underestimate him. We learned that the hard way."

Vince chuckled, tucking the paper into his jacket. "Don't worry, boys. I've handled bigger fish than your little freak. My boys and I will take care of it. You just make sure the rest of the money's ready."

Frank and Troy nodded, their expressions a mix of relief and unease. As they turned to leave, Vince called after them. "Oh, and boys?"

They paused, glancing back.

"If this guy's as dangerous as you say, you better hope I don't decide to charge you extra for damages. Have a nice night."

The bullies hurried out of the warehouse, their footsteps echoing in the empty space. Vince turned to his men, a wicked grin on his face. "Alright, boys. Looks like we've got ourselves an interesting job. Let's pay this 'freak' a little visit."

His men laughed darkly, their voices mixing with the sound of the flickering light above them. Little did they know, The target wasn't just any ordinary target. They were about to face something far beyond their understanding.

Lucias finally made it home, closing the door behind him and locking it. He leaned against the door, exhaling a shaky breath. The feeling of being watched had followed him all the way home. He wasn't sure if it was just paranoia or if someone really was watching him.

He tossed his bag onto the couch and sat down, rubbing his temples. His head was pounding, and there was a faint buzzing in his ears that wouldn't go away.

You're worried about the wrong things, the voice echoed in his mind again, sharp and smug.

"Leave me alone," Lucias muttered under his breath, gripping the sides of his head.

Oh, but I can't do that, the voice replied, almost mockingly. You brought me here, remember? You needed me. You still do.

"I didn't ask for you," Lucias hissed, his voice trembling.

Maybe not with words, the voice said, its tone softening into something almost comforting. But every time you felt weak, every time you felt like the world was crushing you, you called out for me. And I answered.

Lucias shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. "I don't want you here."

You don't have a choice, the voice replied simply. I'm a part of you now. And I'm not going anywhere.

Before Lucias could respond, there was a loud knock at the door. He froze, his heart racing.

"Lucias, it's me!" a familiar voice called from the other side. It was Mia.

Lucias hesitated before getting up and unlocking the door. Mia stepped inside, her face etched with concern.

"Hey," she said softly, closing the door behind her. "You've been acting weird lately. I just… I wanted to check on you."

Lucias tried to force a smile, but it came out strained. "I'm fine, Mia. Just… a lot on my mind."

Mia crossed her arms, studying him. "You don't look fine. You look like you haven't slept in days. And you've been avoiding everyone—me, Aaron, even Dr. Sarah."

"I'm just tired," Lucias said, avoiding her gaze.

Mia stepped closer, her expression softening. "Lucias, you don't have to go through whatever this is alone. If something's wrong, you can tell me. I want to help."

Lucias opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain what was happening to him? How could he tell her about the fights, the voice in his head, the feeling that he was losing control?

Before he could figure out what to say, Mia placed a hand on his arm. "You can trust me," she said gently. "Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

Lucias looked at her, his chest tightening. He wanted to believe her, but the voice in his head whispered a warning.

Don't tell her. She wouldn't understand. She'd just get in the way.

"Mia…" Lucias began, his voice barely above a whisper. But before he could continue, there was another knock at the door—this one heavier and more deliberate.

Both of them froze, exchanging a worried glance.

"Are you expecting someone?" Mia asked.

Lucias shook his head, his stomach sinking. He stepped toward the door cautiously, his heart pounding. When he looked through the peephole, his blood ran cold.

A man in a dark hoodie stood on the other side, his face obscured. But Lucias recognized him—it was the same man who had been watching him on the street earlier.

"Who is it?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with unease.

Lucias didn't answer. His hands trembled as he stepped back from the door, his mind racing. He didn't know who the man was, but something told him that whoever he was, he wasn't here for anything good.

Let me handle this, the voice in his head whispered, calm and menacing.

"No," Lucias muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"What?" Mia asked, confused.

Before Lucias could respond, the man outside knocked again, harder this time.

Let me out, Lucias, the voice insisted. You can't protect her. But I can.

Mia, who had been sitting on the couch, froze. "Who would come here this late?" she whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

Lucius stepped toward the door cautiously, motioning for her to stay quiet. His instincts screamed that something wasn't right. He peeked through the peephole and saw two unfamiliar men standing in the dimly lit hallway. They were large, rough-looking, and definitely not friendly.

The taller of the two men, with a scar running across his cheek, pounded on the door again. "Open up, Lucius," he called out, his voice low and menacing. "We just want to talk."

Lucius felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. They knew his name. This wasn't some random mistake. He glanced back at Mia, who was now standing, her face pale with worry.

"Who are they?" Mia mouthed.

"I don't know," Lucius whispered back. His hands trembled slightly as he clenched them into fists. "Stay behind me."

"Lucius!" the scarred man barked again. "Don't make us break the door down. It'll be easier for everyone if you just let us in."

Lucius' mind raced. Whoever they were, they clearly weren't here for a friendly chat. And after everything that had been happening lately—his blackouts, the fights, the cryptic phone call—he had a sinking feeling these men knew more about him than they should.

He turned back to Mia. "Go to the bedroom and lock the door. Don't come out, no matter what happens."

"No," Mia said firmly. "I'm not leaving you alone with them."

"Mia, please," Lucius pleaded. "I can't protect you if you're out here."

"You don't have to do this alone," she said, her voice shaking but resolute. "I'm not going to hide while you—"

The sound of a heavy thud against the door cut her off. The men were trying to force their way in.

Lucius' breathing quickened. He felt it again—that dark presence stirring in the back of his mind. His alter. It was waking up, clawing its way to the surface, whispering in his thoughts.

Let me out, Lucius, it growled. You're too weak to handle this. Let me deal with them.

"No," Lucius hissed under his breath, clenching his head as if to physically block it out. "I won't let you take over."

Mia grabbed his arm. "Lucius, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, trying to focus. "Just stay back."

The door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall as the two men forced their way inside. The scarred man and his shorter, bulkier companion stepped into the apartment, their eyes locking on Lucius. One of them glanced at Mia, a cruel smile forming on his lips.

"Well, well," the scarred man said, his tone mocking. "Looks like we've got company. Didn't know you had a girlfriend, Lucius."

Lucius stepped in front of Mia, shielding her with his body. "Leave her out of this," he said, his voice trembling but defiant. "What do you want?"

The shorter man chuckled. "What we want is simple. Someone's paying us to send you a message. But if you make it easy for us, maybe we won't have to get too rough."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Lucius said through gritted teeth. He felt the presence in his mind growing stronger, pushing harder against his will.

The scarred man sighed, pulling a crowbar from behind his back. "See, that's the problem. We weren't really asking."

Before Lucius could react, the shorter man lunged toward him. Lucius tried to fight him off, but the man was stronger and more experienced. They grappled, knocking over a lamp and sending it crashing to the floor. Mia screamed, backing away toward the corner of the room.

The scarred man, seeing Mia's retreat, smirked and started toward her. "Maybe we'll send her a message too. Something nice and permanent."

Lucius' eyes widened in horror. "Stay away from her!" he shouted, but his struggle with the other man kept him pinned.

The presence inside him roared. You can't stop them, Lucius. Let me take control. Let me protect her.

"No," Lucius growled, his voice strained. "I can do this. I don't need you."

The scarred man grabbed Mia by the wrist, yanking her toward him. She struggled, tears streaming down her face. "Lucius!"

The sound of her voice—her fear—was too much. Something inside Lucius snapped. He stopped resisting the presence and let it flood through him like a tidal wave. His vision darkened, and when he opened his eyes again, they were no longer his own.

The man grappling Lucius suddenly found himself thrown across the room with inhuman strength, slamming into the wall and crumpling to the floor. The scarred man let go of Mia and turned, startled, just as Lucius stood up straight. His posture was different—calm, confident, and terrifyingly composed.

"Finally," the alter said, his voice deeper and colder than Lucius'. He tilted his head, a cruel smirk forming on his lips. "You really shouldn't have touched her."

The scarred man barely had time to react before Lucius closed the distance between them in a blur of movement. He grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him into the wall, the plaster cracking from the impact. The man groaned, dropping the crowbar.

Mia watched in shock, her back pressed against the corner. "Lucius…?"

The alter glanced at her, his expression softening slightly. "It's okay. You're safe now." Then he turned back to the man in his grip, his face hardening. "But you? fatal mistake." Lucius alter eye glowing blue.

Lucius' alter made quick work of the two intruders, disarming and incapacitating them with brutal efficiency. When it was over, both men lay unconscious on the floor, groaning in pain.

The alter took a deep breath, his fists unclenching. He turned to Mia, his intense gaze softening. "Are you hurt?"

Mia shook her head, too stunned to speak.

The alter closed his eyes, and when they reopened, Lucius was back. He stumbled, clutching his head, and Mia rushed to catch him.

"Lucius… what just happened?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

Lucius looked at the unconscious men, then at Mia. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking. "I couldn't stop it. I… I had to let him out."

Mia wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. "You saved me," she whispered. "Whoever that was… you saved me."

As Lucius stumbled back to the couch, supported by Mia, the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway reached his ears. He froze, his instincts flaring again. Mia tensed beside him, her wide eyes darting toward the open door, where the two unconscious intruders lay sprawled.

"Someone's coming," Lucius whispered, his voice strained.

Mia's grip tightened on his arm. "What do we do? Lucius, you're hurt!"

Lucius took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in his mind. Not again, he thought. Not now. But before he could think of a plan, five shadowy figures emerged in the doorway, their silhouettes filling the frame.

The man at the front stepped into the dim light of the apartment. He was tall and broad, with slicked-back black hair and a confident smirk. Vince. Behind him stood four of his gang members, each one looking meaner than the last.

"Well, well, well," Vince said, his tone dripping with amusement. "Looks like Frank and Troy weren't kidding when they said you were trouble." He glanced at the two unconscious men on the floor and chuckled. "Though I didn't expect you to handle them so… efficiently."

Lucius straightened, his body trembling but his gaze steady. "Who the hell are you?"

Vince raised his hands in mock surrender. "Easy there, champ. Name's Vince. These two," he gestured toward the unconscious intruders, "are part of my crew. And Frank and Troy? They're paying me to deal with you."

Mia stepped forward, her voice trembling but defiant. "You can't just barge in here and attack him! This is his home!"

Vince tilted his head, studying her with a raised eyebrow. "And who's this? Your girlfriend? Cute. But sweetheart, you might want to step aside. This doesn't concern you."

"Run Mia, Get away from here!" Lucius snapped, stepping in front of Mia protectively. "You want me? Fine. But leave her out of this."

Vince laughed, a cold, sharp sound. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But here's the thing—you're not in a position to make demands." He nodded to one of his men, who stepped forward and shut the door, blocking their escape.

Lucius clenched his fists, his mind racing. He could feel his alter stirring again, pushing against the walls of his consciousness. No, he thought. I can't let him out. Not again.

"You've got two choices," Vince continued, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "You come with us quietly, or we make this messy. And trust me, you don't want messy."

Lucius glared at him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Vince sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why do they always choose the hard way?" He snapped his fingers, and his men stepped forward, closing in on Lucius and Mia.

Mia grabbed Lucius' arm. "Lucius, don't. You're hurt. Let's just—"

"No," Lucius interrupted, his voice firm. "I won't let them hurt you."

The first thug lunged at Lucius, but Lucius managed to dodge, his instincts sharp despite his exhaustion. He countered with a punch, but his strength was waning. The thug barely stumbled before recovering and charging again.

The second thug grabbed Mia, pulling her toward Vince. She screamed, struggling against his grip.

"Mia!" Lucius shouted, his vision blurring with panic.

Inside his mind, his alter roared. Let me out, Lucius. You can't save her like this. Let me handle them.

"No," Lucius hissed, shaking his head. "I won't let you take over."

Vince smirked, watching the struggle. "What's the matter, champ? Losing your nerve?"

Lucius dropped to his knees, clutching his head as the presence in his mind grew stronger. He could feel his control slipping, the darkness consuming him.

"Lucius!" Mia's voice was desperate, filled with fear.

Hearing her cry out was the breaking point. Lucius clenched his fists, his body trembling as he finally gave in. "Fine," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "Do it."

A sudden stillness filled the room as Lucius stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. When he opened his eyes, they were no longer his own—they were sharper, colder, and filled with a dangerous intensity.

The alter smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Alright, boys," he said, his voice deeper and more menacing. "Now it's my turn…again."

The thugs hesitated, exchanging nervous glances. Vince frowned, sensing the change in Lucius' demeanor. "What the hell…?"

Before anyone could react, the alter moved. He was a blur of motion, taking down the first thug with a single, bone-crushing punch. The second thug released Mia and tried to back away, but the alter grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the room like a ragdoll.

The remaining thugs rushed him, but they were no match. The alter fought with brutal precision, each strike calculated and devastating. Within moments, all four thugs were on the ground, groaning in pain.

Vince, now alone, took a cautious step back. "What the hell are you?" he muttered, his confidence shaken.

The alter turned to him, his smirk widening. "I'm your nightmare bastard!."

Vince bolted for the door, but the alter was faster. He grabbed Vince by the collar and slammed him against the wall, pinning him in place.

"Listen closely," the alter said, his voice low and dangerous. "If you or your little crew ever come near us again, I'll make sure you didn't see the day after today."

Vince nodded frantically, his eyes wide with fear. "Okay, okay! We're done, I swear!"

The alter released him, letting him collapse to the floor. "Good choice."

As Vince scrambled to his feet and fled, the alter turned back to Mia, who was standing frozen in the corner. Her eyes were wide, her hands trembling.

"Mia," the alter said gently, his voice softening. "It's over. You're safe."

She stared at him, her voice barely a whisper. "Lucius… is that you?"

The alter closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Lucius was back. He stumbled, catching himself against the wall as the adrenaline drained from his body.

Mia rushed to his side, catching him before he fell. "Lucius! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he murmured, his voice weak. "I'm sorry… you had to see that."

Mia shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You saved me," she whispered. "I don't care what it was… you saved me."

Lucius looked at the unconscious thugs and the destruction around them, a heavy weight settling in his chest. "But at what cost?" he muttered, his voice barely audible.

In a quiet room illuminated by the glow of numerous computer monitors, the two mysterious figures who had been watching Lucius on the CCTV sat in tense silence. Each screen displayed different angles of the footage they had been monitoring—one showing Lucius's apartment building, another showing the recent fight with Vince and his gang, and a third showing a live feed of their operative making his way to a discreet location to report.

A soft beep echoed through the room as the live feed of the spy switched to a clear video call. The spy, a man in his early thirties with slicked-back hair and sharp features, adjusted his earpiece and looked directly into the camera.

"Agent Carter reporting," the spy said crisply. "I've just returned from observing the situation at the target's residence."

The taller of the two figures, a man with a commanding presence and cold, calculating eyes, leaned forward. His voice was deep and authoritative. "What did you see, Carter? Is the subject progressing as expected?"

Carter nodded. "Yes, Director. It's confirmed. Lucius's alternate personality emerged again during an altercation tonight. He completely overpowered five men, including Vince and his crew. The sheer strength and precision of his movements… it's unlike anything I've ever seen. This alter isn't just some psychological defense mechanism—it's something far more dangerous."

The other figure, a woman with sharp eyes and a clipboard in hand, interjected. Her tone was clinical and detached. "What triggered the emergence this time? Was it a direct threat, or something more personal?"

Carter hesitated, then answered, "The situation became personal. One of the gang members grabbed a girl—Mia, I believe her name is. The subject attempted to resist his alternate self initially but eventually gave in when the girl was put in danger."

The woman scribbled notes onto her clipboard, her brow furrowed in thought. "Interesting. So the alternate surfaces when Lucius feels helpless or when someone he cares about is at risk. A classic pattern in cases like his, but his transformation remains unique. Did you get close enough to observe his demeanor during the shift?"

Carter nodded again. "Yes, ma'am. It's as if he becomes a completely different person. His movements, his tone, even the look in his eyes—everything changes. This isn't just a psychological split; it's almost as if the alter is an entirely separate entity with its own set of skills and motivations."

The Director leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he processed the information. "And the girl, Mia—how much does she know?"

"Not much, sir," Carter replied. "She's aware something is off, but she seems more concerned about Lucius's well-being than the nature of his condition. She doesn't pose a threat to our observation efforts. Not yet, at least."

The woman glanced at the Director. "This is escalating faster than we anticipated. If the alter continues to surface in response to emotional triggers, it's only a matter of time before Lucius becomes fully dependent on it. That could either work in our favor… or spiral out of control."

The Director's lips curled into a thin, almost predatory smile. "Spiral out of control? Perhaps. But chaos often reveals the most valuable data. Carter, keep a close eye on the girl. She may prove useful in pushing Lucius further."

Carter's expression tightened, but he nodded. "Understood, sir. Do you want me to intervene directly if the situation escalates?"

The Director waved a hand dismissively. "Not yet. For now, continue monitoring from a distance. But be prepared to act if necessary. Lucius is… special. We've invested too much time and resources into this to let him slip through our fingers."

The woman tapped her clipboard thoughtfully. "What about Vince and his crew? They'll talk about what happened. That could draw unwanted attention."

The Director shook his head, his smirk growing darker. "Vince and his thugs are small-time. No one will take their stories seriously. And if they do start talking, we'll handle them. Quietly."

Carter glanced at the monitors, where the footage of the fight replayed on a loop. "One more thing, sir. During the fight, Lucius's alter spoke directly to Vince. It's almost as if… it wanted to send a message. This alter isn't just reacting to danger—it's taking control."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Carter's words hanging in the air. The Director finally broke the silence, his tone icy and deliberate. "Good. Let it take control. The more it does, the closer we get to understanding what makes Lucius tick."

The woman's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "And if the alter becomes too dangerous to contain?"

The Director's smirk faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "Then we'll move to phase two. But for now, let's see how far he can go."

Carter nodded once more before the screen went dark, leaving the two figures alone in the glow of the monitors. The Director leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the footage of Lucius standing over the unconscious gang members.

"This is just the beginning," he murmured, almost to himself. "Let's see what you're truly capable of, Lucius."