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A young man is surprised by his friend.

My body enters a state that isn't what I thought it would feel like; it is the removal of any sensation of from my body, the editing of superfluous sights and sounds, and an absolute clarity of the things that matter; namely the seven guys I am fighting, the Witches and Regina, though they are dozens of yards apart in different directions.

I kick one of the guys in front and he is gone; then I am born to the ground. It takes everything the guys holding my arms can bring to bear to hold me down. It doesn't really help. I scissor-kick one guy - hitting his ankle from one side and knee on the other - his Fibula and Tibia snap like dry twigs and the Tibia actually pokes through the skin and his pants.

His howling screams disrupt the survivors. One man gets a kick in to my hip, Bradley pushes the screaming guy aside and the last one takes my shoe to his knee, snapping it back to a reverse angle. He yowls and flies away. When Bradley tries to kick me in the crotch, I catch the tip of his shoe on the soul of my foot while I suddenly find the strength to hurl the man on my right arm off - way away from the fight.

I take another hit to the hip and it is dawning on me that I register the hit but not the damage. I know my hip is in pain from a clinical point of view but I am still totally functional. I push off from Bradley, sending him sprawling away before whipping the man on my left arm into the guy kicking my hip, splaying them both on the ground. Bradley and I regain our feet at the same time.
The six witches start moving their hands and chanting in that warped gibberish of theirs. Regina stands and I see three upper-class women start to swing around in her direction.

"Don't worry about this," I wave her off. Instead I grab two random book bags, hurling one then the other at the two lead attacking girl-minions.

With the first, I hit the lead girl in the shoulder, smacking her into the closest table. I get the hang of this bag-throwing thing and nail the second girl in the head and she's lights-out. The third girl freezes and looks my way.

"Back your ass up," I growl and the girl flees back to the Witches' dwindling clich__.

When I turn back, the Witches have finished with Bradley; his body looks the same but he is infused with a lethal charisma and an animalistic menace.

"I am going to bathe in your blood," Bradley hisses. He's barely human anymore - his flesh is only a shell for the power of the witches and his own wickedness. The Witches don't create evil; they build upon what is already in you - how nice.

I wait; I'm monster but not like him. Bradley has surrendered that portion of the human persona that mastered fire and nurtured his family and clan by dint of personal sacrifice, multiple millennia ago. He's probably feeling no pain, but he hasn't healed either. I know what that means.

"Die," he froths at the mouth as he charges, hand's outstretched; this might hurt.

I bring my hands up over my head and step forward. I bring my balled fists down as his hands are grabbing my shirt, connecting hard with his collarbones resulting in a resounding snap. My fists drive into the top rib and that almost snaps too. His nervous system to each arm collapses and suddenly he is a head and limbless torso in a fist fight. My head butt finishes him off.

It takes me a moment due to my 'super power' to figure out what has happened. No one in the lunchtime crowd is saying a word and they are all looking at us. Somewhere their little monkey brains have been finally allowed to kick the civilized thought centers in the gonads and wake the body up. The Witches have suffered their first significant defeat. My earlier encounter with Midnight was a tiny ripple where this is a huge wave crashing onto the rocks.

No longer will students be drug off in the night while all the rest can do is put their pillows over their heads and be thankful it isn't them - this time . The witches gambled and lost. My only problem is I have no idea what to do with this victory. I hoist Bradley up and shake him.

"Walk the

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