Destroy to Create

My response to the August prompt ‘create’. Follows after Hands of Destruction.

Genre: superpowers, fantasy


~Destroy to Create~

The door opened and closed. He didn’t bother to look up. Negotiations may be underway for special laws to protect those with special powers, but the facility wouldn’t release him so easily, not when he could destroy anything with just a touch.

His visitor settled into the seat opposite him and cheerily introduced herself as an alternative counsellor for ETIs, Extraordinarily Talented Individuals (working title. Yay? Nay?).

He stared ahead.

The counsellor continued without missing a beat. “I hear you’re an artist.”

He looked down at his arms, covered from the elbow down with a guard meant to neutralise his destructive ability.

“Not anymore.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a rock the size of her head. After setting the ball on the table, she reached over and unlocked his arm guards.

“Make something for me. I didn’t bring any tools with me, but your ability should work fine enough.”

Make something? With these hands that could only destroy?

But his hands, itching to do something after so long in captivity, had already reached forward. Wherever his fingers touched, the rock crumbled away, as if he was back in sculpting elective, chipping away at a class exercise.

Then his concentration slipped, and an ugly crack split the rock into pieces.

“No worries. I brought another one.” His visitor pulled another rock from her bag and pushed it under his fingers.

He didn’t want to destroy another thing, but he hadn’t made anything in ages. Pushing away his hesitance, he dove straight into the new project.

Inspiration struck before he made many changes to the surface of the rock. Anyone could change the exterior of the material, but he had this unusual ability, he could do something different. Pulling together every bit of control he had, he carved out the image he had in his mind.

When he was done, the rock looked unchanged other than one small hole. But that hole was only there so that the artwork inside, created by removing parts of the rock, could be seen.

“Very nice,” she said.

She grabbed her bag and put it on the table. There were more rocks inside. How strong was this lady?

“Keep the rest. That should keep you busy. I’ll see you again next week.”

She patted his head and swept out of the room before he could respond. The door closed behind her, but no one else came in to put the guards back around his arms.

He was still stuck inside the small room, cut off from the rest of the world, but for the first time in a long while, he smiled.



The artist appears again in Constant Surveillance.


Posted on August 3, 2016, in Potpourri and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Isabel Caves

Poetry, Fiction & Photography

Shawn Writes Stuff

Not necessarily well, but here we are.

Little Wee Stories

Very short stories to delight and entertain


Faristha Kanakkapillai

Skruulraken's Words

The blog of works by Zuko Vauxhall.

%d bloggers like this: