Evil Hero (A Skybrine Story)

Chapter 14: Mind Control

Quentin's POV

How did I land myself back in this mess?

Skybrine just teleported me right in here, let go of my arm, and teleported away a moment later.

I'm sitting in a cell again, the same one I've been sitting in for eight years of my life.

A zombie guard walks slowly over to my cell and groans at me. I know what that means: Herobrine needs you. Now.

I stay put. If Herobrine wants me again, he'll have to come get me himself.

The zombie groans at me again. I just Ice Beam its face and freeze it in place. (A/N: haha, that rhymed!)

All of a sudden, Herobrine teleports in front of me. "You little Mudkip," he growls at me. "

He teleports into my cell, grabs me by the arm, and teleports to the place I've been every day for the past eight years.

The Arena.

There are others already waiting. I know what Herobrine wants us to do.

We have to fight to the death until there's one standing.

And that one standing person is always me.

It's what I always did: Earthquake, Brick Break, Muddy Water, and Ice Beam. (A/N: those are my Swampert's moves in W1) My four abilites are the only good things about me being a mutant.

Why Herobrine and Skybrine want us to do this, I have no idea. But apparently this is their idea of fun.

I stand in a glass tube in the Arena again, waiting for the word to begin so that I can finish this and just get the heck out of here. Herobrine sits in his chair, on a high platform overlooking the whole room.

He looks at each of us mutants in turn, waiting to let us out, and I sigh. Why? Why do you do this to us?

But just as his hand is about to hit the button to let us free, someone with a black robe and hood teleports into the room next to Herobrine, holding a boy who looks like he's my age. The boy is wearing a purple hoodie, gray pants, and a purple cape. The boy's unconscious, and wrapped up with some sort of shimmering black rope.

Herobrine stands up and shakes hands with the black hooded man, then gestures at the unconscious boy. The hooded man nods and kicks the boy in the stomach. From what I can see, the boy jerks awake and yells something.

Purple smoke erupts around him and fills the whole room, and I can't see anything for a few seconds.

When it clears, the boy is screaming in pain as the black rope glows and squeezes him tighter. The hooded man laughs and raises his hands in the air, creating balls of black fire in each hand. He throws the fire at the boy, who can only lay there as the fire surrounds him.

The boy stops struggling, and the hooded man reaches down to untie him. The boy stands up and jumps down into the Arena, where all of us mutants have been staring at him.

Herobrine presses the button.

Immediately, the boy raises his hands, and an army of zombies and skeletons ride from mist in the ground and form ghostly shapes.

This boy is a sorcerer. A sorcerer of dark magic.

I back away slowly, my back soon hitting the metal wall of the Arena. There's no way out of this torture; I should know that. I've been here for eight years.

One by one, the other mutants die at the hands of the undead army - and sometimes, the boy casts his own spells. Either way, they're dead. From what I can see, these zombies are much more powerful than normal ones.