The world paused. Light dimmed, the colors darkened, his world became silent. As he slightly began to panic, he heard a scratching and looked up.
The sky was being torn. Like a dark finger, a black lightning bolt was being carved into the sky. Colors seemed to be fighting the edges, sounds were trying to slow it, but something was on the other side. It didn't seem awake, but by just existing it was trying to break into this world.
He felt shocked. This thing was worse than any cloud. It felt hurt though, like it didn't know where it was and couldn't think well. The boy with green eyes looked back down the stairs at the red room and suddenly realized the feeling of this new blackness was familiar. It was like that man.
That man had somehow left something here, in his mind. That woman had failed. Her life had not protected him.
No.
His green eyes began to glow as he looked back into the sky. The woman may have failed, but no one would ever know. He would rather die getting rid of this black evil than allow her sacrifice, her death, her GIFT to be tainted by failure. She had NOT failed, not while he had any say. Righteous anger, for the first time in his whole existence, filled him. He reached inside, and opened everything he had. Threads, ropes, cords, finally a BEAM of green light flashed into the sky. The threads shattered into wisps, hairs, too small to see. They began exploring the darkness in the sky, mapping it, trying to gently surround it without warning or waking the slumbering blackness. Thick ropes peeled back the sky, giving extra room for the huge cords to pull inwards the large black mass.
It looked almost like an unconscious demon baby, twisted and black, clearly not awake. The flailing of it's arms created powerful wounds on his world, which healed nearly instantly with directed threads. The boy with green eyes took a deep breath, then moved a green cord directly into his own eyes. Unlike before, where he could only see thin threads within himself, he could now see an entire network of threads within the obscenity. This creatures light was like black ooze, and seemed twisted and cruel. The boy felt dirty even touching it with his pure green web, but he knew this thing needed to die. Malicious thoughts oozed off it, along with anger, rage, and other twisted emotions. With green eyes burning, he raised his right arm and coated it with cords that began twisted around, faster and faster, like a drill. While the dark creature thrashed randomly in its bonds, the boy hesitated for a moment... then smashed his arm straight into the skull of the monster.
An explosion of blackness was the last thing the boy saw.
Pain. He was hurt again. His eyes opened, and he was grateful that he was still in his mind. The corpse of the creature was still there, deep in a crater that the green eyed boy had been thrown out of. It was not moving though, so that was good. Ooze was coming out of it, seeming to puddle into strange shapes against the will of gravity. Slowing forcing himself to sit up, the young boy groaned. There was a lot of damage. The sky had a hole in it, the ground was heavily cracked, there were scars in the earth, and there were several new clouds. And of course, a nice big black one dripping with goo that probably covered what he had just did.
He rested his hands on his head. This had somehow escalated way too much. He had just wanted to be warm and fix himself. To feel that warm softness. He reviewed his actions. Each step had made sense, except for that last one... it was strange how strongly he had felt the urge to kill, to destroy. It was not him, THAT was... oh.
He looked back at the black goo in the pit. Gently reaching out a thread, he touched it.
ANGER, RAGE, DEA-
Quickly he broke the green thread and left it to corrupt in the goo. Apparently the daemon thing trying to break into his head had been leaking some VERY negative emotions. He almost laughed, as the stress of the situation began to catch up with him. He had gone slightly nuts and homicidal because a dark creature was poisoning his mind with crazy thoughts. Said crazy thoughts had succeed, but since there was no one to hurt but the creature itself it had sort of backfired. This whole thing felt twisted.
Still, that goo could not be allowed to fester here. Raising pained muscles, the sore and tired boy created a glass bottle like the one the Loud Man had on the fireplace mantel, with a ship inside. He tried to throw out his cords, but only a few threads came out. His control was messed up bad because of all the damage. Still, it was enough to begin filling his bottle with black emotion goo.
There, one half filled ship in a bottle. He used his light to create a glass cork, sealing all that nastiness away. With a slight after thought and a slight grin, he also replaced the replica ship inside with a happy rubber duck. It felt right somehow.
His threads had done light healing on him while he had been collecting the goo. Still it hurt to move quickly, so he gingerly walked back to the grass entrance (Now slightly scarred) and down the white wood steps. He thought a bit, then turned to the left instead of the right side of the stairs. With a hand wave, this side revealed not a normal cupboard, but a metal door with no handle. His finger touched it and he passed through into a metal room with no seams, and created a small metal table, thin and made with shiny wires. On top he placed the Rubber Ducky Bottle of Doom. Looking around, he decided this would probably work for the corpse as well, since he would have no reason to come back here.
Back in the grass fields, now at least partially the giant-hole-and-grass fields, he lifted the corpse and compressed it. After it was tiny, he had another thought that made him grin.
When he left the metal room downstairs a second time, the Rubber Duck had a solid black (Formally evil baby) top hat. Under the stairs, green eyes opened. He felt sore over much of his body, and his forehead felt sticky. Wiping it with his sleeve showed a black, oily substance that had oozed from his forehead. If he had seen a mirror in the last few years, he felt sure that it was from that irritated scar, the same one that never healed. After seeing the dark thing that had been inside it, he didn't really feel shocked that it had stayed painful.
He frowned. Something was different. Scratch that, a LOT of things were different. His body had not gone through the whole warmth treatment his arm and part of his scull had done, but he still felt changed. Carefully examining himself, he realized that forcing that creature must have filled him with light. Many small aches and stiffness was gone, and his face, especially the parts closest to where the scar had been, felt amazing. He had been pushing a lot of light through that area, so it seemed reasonable. He also was thinking more clearly. Who knew how much brain damage he had healed during that fight, and his eyes felt very odd. Looking at his arm he felt a little stunned. While before he could barely see a green glow, now he could see a network of wisp thin green threads curling around his skin, muscles, bones. It felt the same. He looked around and realized how much he could SEE.
The crayon marks on the wall from years past were clear, the small spiders that hid in the corners, the nails that always seemed to catch his skin, all of it was clear, more clear than he had ever seen before.
Of course, this was made much more impressive since the only light was coming in under the edge of the cupboard door.