Kid Flex

My name is Kyle Damian, I live with my mom Dorothy Damian, my dad passed away when I was 5 and now my mom knows what...
"Kyle, why didn't you talk to me?" His mother circled the parlor with concern and confusion in her voice, punctuating the silence that hung heavy between them.
"Tell me, what is going on, Kyle?" His mother's eyes pleaded with him, searching for answers, her worry palpable in her expression and voice.
"I... I touched something, and this monster started living in my head. It doesn't make sense, I know," Kyle wanted desperately to articulate these words, but they seemed to linger on the tip of his tongue.
After a moment, he took a deep breath, steadying himself before speaking again. "I... I don't know how to explain," he admitted. His mother leaned in closer, her expression softening as she reached out to him "You know I can't help you if you don't open up".
"Look I'm sorry ma for getting you caught up in this, I'm just not ready to share yet," Kyle says respectfully then stands up and heads for the door. "I just need to clear my head," he explained calmly before stepping out. "I need to see a pastor" his mother exclaimed with a gasp.
After leisurely visiting a few random places, soaking in the sights and sounds of everyday life to let his mind wander, Kyle decided it was time to retrace his steps and make his way back home. As he strolled along the familiar streets leading back to his house, his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of two imposing black SUVs a few blocks away.
Approaching cautiously, Kyle watched as two bouncers, dressed sharply in black suits, emerged from the vehicles. "Good afternoon, Mr. Damian," one of them greeted him respectfully.
"Good afternoon," Kyle replied calmly, though the unexpected encounter piqued his curiosity.
"Our boss would like to see you. Would you please follow us?" the bouncer requested, gesturing for Kyle to join them. Kyle hesitated for a moment, his instinct urging caution, but a reminder echoed in his mind: violence only leads to more violence. A concept that for some reason Raknar found funny. Suppressing his unease, he followed the bouncers towards the waiting SUV.
The SUV wound its way through the city streets until it finally came to a stop in front of Borgov's mansion, an opulent structure that exuded wealth and power. Kyle couldn't help but be awestruck as he stepped out of the vehicle, taking in the sight of the grandiose estate before him.
Massive doors, adorned with intricate carvings, loomed overhead, welcoming him into a world of luxury and extravagance. As he stepped inside, his eyes widened at the sight that greeted him. The ceiling seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky, adorned with elaborate chandeliers that cast a soft, golden glow over the marble floors below.
His gaze was drawn to the grand staircase that dominated the foyer, its steps flanked by towering sculptures that stood as silent sentinels, guarding the entrance to the upper floors. A rich red carpet, lined with threads of shimmering gold, ran the length of the staircase, adding a touch of regal splendor to the already lavish surroundings.
The air was filled with the strains of classical music, adding to the ambiance of elegance and sophistication that permeated the mansion. As Kyle ascended the staircase, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him, his gaze lingering on the intricate details of his surroundings. However, his reverie was abruptly interrupted as the men leading him came to a sudden halt in front of a designated room. With a firm knock, they swung the door open, gesturing for Kyle to enter.
Stepping into the room, Kyle's eyes fell upon a grand table, its polished surface gleaming in the soft light. At the far end sat Mr. Borgov, his presence commanding attention. Despite his efforts to maintain composure, Kyle felt a twinge of irritation at the sight of Borgov, his subconscious reaction overriding any sense of awe.
"Pleased to meet you again, Kyle Damian. Please, have a seat," Borgov greeted politely, his words laced with a veneer of civility.
"I'm fine standing," Kyle responded curtly, declining Borgov's offer as he stood his ground, his expression shifting to one of seriousness. An uneasy silence settled over the room, broken only by the kingpin's voice.
"I bet you're wondering why I've requested this meeting. You may not be aware, but the artifact labeled the legendary cursed box from the Draken City Museum was found destroyed, and video evidence shows that you were the one who tampered with it. Enough to get you in prison for a lifetime," Borgov stated matter-of-factly, his tone betraying no hint of sympathy.
"But I'm a fair man," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his eyes fixed intently on Kyle. "And I'll give you a chance to start talking." Borgov's words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the situation pressing down on Kyle as he contemplated his next move. However, a strange sense of confidence began to stir within him, fueled by his newly discovered abilities and the presence of Raknar by his side, despite his lack of complete trust in the demon.
"WHY LET THIS MORTALS INTIMIDATE YOU? THEY ARE THE ONES WHO SHOULD BE SCARED" the demon whispered into Kyle's ear in its watery voice, its words echoing with a sinister edge.
Kyle's pulse quickened at Raknar's words, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Despite his apprehension, he couldn't deny the allure of the power that pulsed within him. "The way I see it, you should be the one afraid," he declared, his tone laced with a sinister edge that hung heavy in the air. "If you ever try to harm anyone close to me again, I won't hesitate to respond in kind."
Borgov's facade of indifference cracked, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. Mr. Borgov was no man to quiver in the face of any threat, let alone a 16-year-old boy, yet there was something about Kyle's demeanor that unsettled him. Despite his attempts to maintain composure, Borgov couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of unease that Kyle's presence elicited.
As he observed the young man before him, Borgov couldn't ignore the fact that Kyle had already demonstrated his capacity to eliminate some of his men. It was a troubling realization that left Borgov feeling vulnerable, a sensation he was not accustomed to experiencing. With a subtle furrowing of his brow, Borgov resolved to handle the situation swiftly before Kyle had the opportunity to become an even greater threat.