Ethan stared at his gloves, examining them for the fifth time to ensure that they were free of that dark red fluid. After a thorough washing with freshly stolen cleaning products, his gloves appeared to be spotless. Yet Ethan couldn’t help but feel like they were unclean… These were the gloves he wore when he gave in to his anger and went berserk. Ethan didn’t regret what he did to the vampire, but his actions scared him.

  Ethan wanted to be a villain to get revenge on the people who hurt him, not some animal that flies off the handle over a little bit of pain. He wanted to have the guts needed to hurt people when necessary. However, his actions against people like Jordan and Shelley were too much. But what could Ethan do about it? How could he rein in his anger while still working on becoming a proper villain?

  Ethan wracked his brain for an answer but came up with nothing. Before he knew it, he had spent the rest of the day and all of the afternoon just sitting around his base and brooding. Ethan was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly had a heart attack when his clones contacted him.

  “He’s here,” a double reported. When Ethan’s chest stopped overreacting, he allowed himself to be given a vision of his last target.

  Officer Cotton wasn’t anything special as a cop or a person. Average height, average build (with a bit of pudge), and an average face. The real question was whether it was typical for police officers to abuse their spouses the moment they got home.

  According to major news articles, the police force had been going downhill ever since the introduction of superheroes. They’ve been losing support steadily beforehand, and when an alternative to law enforcement showed up in tights, the majority of people latched onto it and gave up on the other guys entirely. Afterwards, policemen were seen as little more than stewards for heroes, something many officers didn’t take kindly to.

  ‘Why am I getting hung up on the details?’ Ethan chastised himself as he left his base. ‘I’m only fighting one guy, not the entire police department. Though, that’ll change after tonight…’

  Attacking Officer Cotton wouldn’t just increase Ethan’s tolerance for violence, but it would put him on the radar of every cop in town. Police officers always looked out for each other, even more so now that Superheroes stole the people’s goodwill. That would usually be a good thing, but the drawback was that if one cop went dirty, it’d only be a matter of days before that misconduct tarnished the rest of the force. It wasn’t uncommon to hear that entire police departments had to be shut down due to rampant corruption.

  Ethan was certain that the PD in Poppytown would be after him after what he did to Cotton. Even if they weren’t corrupt or as vile as his target, the police officers won’t take kindly to him assaulting one of their own.

  That’d be Ethan’s insurance in case something happened to mess up his attack. Ethan personally couldn’t see how his last attack could go wrong, but so far, something beyond the villain's control always has to show up and throw Ethan for a loop. This last assault should be cut and dry, but Ethan couldn’t be sure what curveball life would throw at him next.

  Ethan hopped onto a cloud and flew towards Cotton’s home. He was thinking clearly again and remembered why he didn’t want to use his cloud riding power when people could see him. But right now, Ethan could use some more eyes on him; if people saw the “masked vigilante” flying around town, specifically near where a cop was beaten up, it could only help in building up his villainous reputation.

  Flying through the dusky sky was a pleasant feeling, and it helped Ethan relax a bit as he glided in the air. But the closer he got to his destination, his unease grew. There was one thing Ethan could see going wrong with his mission, and that was him losing his temper. After nearly bashing in Shelley’s head, it's clearly something Ethan needs to watch out for.

  His clones told Ethan that Cotton was an abusive husband and possibly an abusive father. It wasn’t exactly like Ebenezer’s home life, but it was similar enough. All it takes is one moment of watching the man scream at his wife and child, which would be enough to make Ethan’s blood boil. A bit of anger can be useful to make him get his hands dirty, but if he loses control of that anger…

  “We have a problem,” a clone said suddenly. His tone was nervous, which did nothing to ease Ethan’s nerves.

  “What’s wrong?” Ethan asked while speeding up his cloud.

  “Cotton’s home and is having a sit-down talk with his wife,” a double responded. A vision appeared, and he could see his copy watching through the window of what looked like a mundane scene between husband and wife. Cotton and his partner sat on a small side table in their kitchen while they talked. It was only after looking at the woman’s face that you noticed something was wrong.

  Mrs. Cotton tried to look neutral but her anxiety leaked through her mask. They way she sweated and stared at her husband with wide eyes made her look terrified. From what Ethan’s clones showed him beforehand, the wife often took her husband's abuse with resignation and bitterness. Now, though, she looked like she was being held at gunpoint.

  In stark contrast, Officer Cotton was worryingly calm. His face was blank, and his eyes bore into his wife like he was waiting for her to confess to some sort of crime. Ethan knew that look. It was one Menelaus used countless times. It wasn’t the look of a man trying not to explode in anger. It was the look of a man who was going to explode, but was waiting for the right moment to strike. Like a predator stalking its prey and waiting for the perfect moment to kill.

  That moment came seconds later. As if a switch had been flipped, Cotton leaped from his seat and flung the table to the side. Mrs. Cotton jumped away from her now seething husband and tried to flee, but Officer Cotton caught her easily by the hair. He pulled his now screaming wife back and shoved her to the ground. Then Cotton started fiddling with his pants and pulled out his belt. He raised the leather strap like a sword, his intentions clear.

  And that’s when Ethan crashed through the window. The Cottons looked at the boy in shock, allowing Ethan to punch the husband in his gut. The cop folded over the surprise blow, dropping his belt to the ground. Ethan swung his staff up to catch Cotton in the jaw and cause him to collapse on the ground.

  Ethan jumped back, ready for the cop to spring to his feet and fight back, but he didn’t. The last blow knocked him unconscious, so Cotton remained slumped on the ground. Ethan just stood there, breathing heavily for a second, unsure of what to do next. The whimpers behind him reminded the villain he had an audience.

  Ethan turned to look at Mrs. Cotton, still on the floor and looking at her husband in shock. She turned her gaze to Ethan and looked at him with a mixture of shock, wariness, and a bit of hope. The housewife’s look made Ethan’s stomach twist in knots. Not only does he have another witness to his accidental heroism, but that look was bordering on adoration. It was a look Ethan didn’t want to see.

  “Get out,” was all the villain said. Immediately, Mrs. Cotton scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room. But instead of bolting out the door, Ethan heard her rushing up the stairs. Before Ethan could bark at her to leave the house, Mrs. Cotton came back down, carrying several different bags stuffed to the brim. Two of them were backpacks, while the rest were suitcases.

  ‘So, that’s what happened,’ Ethan realized as the Housewife squeezed out the front door. ‘She was running away, and Cotton caught her.’ Ethan stood quietly in the kitchen and waited for the telltale sounds of an engine starting followed by a car tearing down the street. When Ethan was sure the lady was gone, he turned back to his target.

  Cotton still hadn’t gotten up; he continued to lie in a pile of tangled limbs on the ground. He stayed there unconscious, not giving Ethan a reason to keep fighting. Ethan stared at the man, not sure what to do next.

  He couldn’t just leave things like this. He hasn’t done anything villainous yet. Worse, he saved the day again by helping Mrs. Cotton run away. If her story got out, that would only make his Hero status worse, and it might force the other cops to back off lest they get associated with a known domestic abuser. Again, his plans were going down the drain; he had to do something to mitigate the damage.

  Ethan glared down at the unconscious cop, racking his brain for ideas or the nerve to just kick him while he’s down. That’d be the easiest course of action, to break a limb or two while he’s helpless, but did Ethan have the stomach for it?

  So far, all of Ethan’s actions have been reactions to other people and their misdeeds. It helped dissuade his guilt over the unkind actions that didn’t come naturally to him. Even when hunting for people to attack, Ethan still had to pick jerks and wait until they made the first move before he could strike. And was that really attacking? Or was he just violently defending himself? No wonder people keep mistaking him for a vigilante; nothing he’s done has been obviously villainous.

  ‘Not yet anyway,’ Ethan thought as he tightly gripped his staff. But before Ethan could act on his feelings, he heard a groan of pain. Slowly, the cop disentangled himself and crawled up to his feet. Ethan watched in stunned silence as the man stood and looked around in confusion.

  “Where’s Katherine…?” Cotton asked slowly. He didn’t seem to register Ethan’s presence as he kept scanning the kitchen for signs of his wife.

  “She’s gone,” Ethan said simply, watching the cop carefully.

  “Gone?” Cotton repeated dumbly. He stared at Ethan for a few moments, and slowly his eyes unclouded and clarity returned to him. And with that clarity, Cotton remembered that he was angry.

  “That fucking bitch!” Ethan watched as Cotton's face contorted in rage. His hands flew in the air, and he started stomping around the house. “After everything I’ve done for her, she fucking leaves?!”

  He started ripping photos off the walls and throwing them across the room while yelling more obscenities. Ethan watched Cotton kick the trash can over and punch a hole in the wall. The villain simply stood by and silently observe the cop throw a tantrum and continue to wreck his home. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but decided to stick around to see what would happen.

  “And you!” Cotton whirled around and pointed at Ethan. “How fucking dare you stick your nose into other people’s business?!” The cop stomped towards Ethan and towered over the younger man, clearly trying to use their height difference to intimidate him. Ethan was of average height for his age, and Cotton was a good head taller than him. It might’ve worked if Ethan hadn’t easily knocked him out cold.

  “What can I say?” Ethan began coldly. “I like giving abusers a taste of their own medicine.”

  “‘Abuser’?!” Cotton snarled, his angry face twisting even further, which made him look like a rapid bulldog. “You think me showing my wife who’s boss is abuse?! I am the man of this house! It’s my job to look after my family, and if they mess up, it’s my job to correct them! If I don’t slap that bitch around whenever she fucks up, she’ll never learn!”

  “And look where that got you,” Ethan said coldly, gesturing to the house that was now devoid of women. The cop grew a comteptuous sneer, which was all Ethan needed to regain the desire to hurt him again, but still he held back.

  “You think she’s safe now that she’s out of the house? No. I know what her plan is. She isn’t just running away, she’s getting Randy, too, and taking him with her. And the moment she does that, I can charge her with kidnapping.”

  His sneer twisted further into a depraved mockery of a smile as he visualized the scenario. “And after me and my boys hunt her down, I’ll toss her in jail! And when she resists, I’ll beat her to a pulp! Then, when the bitch is dealt with, I’ll take that sissy son of mine and force him to accept the fact he’s a man! Even if I have to beat it into his thick skull until it breaks!”

  As if a switch had been flipped, Ethan was done waiting. The next thing he knew, his fist crashed into Cotton’s gut. The man doubled over at the sudden attack, and Ethan pressed forward before he could recover. The wukong punched the cop in the face, causing the man to fall backwards onto the floor.

  Cotton groaned in pain but was quick to scramble to his feet. Ethan wasn’t sure why, but he allowed the cop to get to his feet. For some reason, he wanted Cotton to fight back. Not because he needed an excuse to keep attacking. Ethan had all the anger he needed to throttle Cotton, but the villain wanted to do more than just hurt the man.

  Ethan slowly walked towards Cotton as he got his barrings. He glared at Ethan before looking around for a weapon. He was currently standing in a modest dining room. Unless Cotton wanted to rummage through the cabinet for something, his best bet was to grab a chair or the throw flower vase.

  Cotton didn’t even bother dumping the flowers out before throwing the lump of pottery at Ethan. Not that it matters, as Ethan easily smacked the projectile out of the air with his staff, creating a cloud of shards, plant parts, and water.

  “You won’t get away with this!” Cotton screamed as he ran into another room. “It doesn’t matter what you tell people! All my boys will see is that you attacked one of their own! They’ll be on your ass for the rest of your life!”

  “I’m counting on it,” Ethan responded as he calmly stalked Cotton through his house. It was odd how calm Ethan found himself acting. He could feel his anger simmering underneath his skin, yet he didn’t feel like he was going to explode. For once, the anger was working with Ethan as he worked to slowly tear Cotton to pieces.

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  The villain’s response made the cop flinch slightly, and he redoubled his efforts to find a weapon. He started chucking furniture all over the place, causing them to either collapse or make more holes in the walls. Cotton made sure to throw the furnishings towards Ethan, either to attack him or block his way. Both were pointless as Ethan’s agility made dodging and sidestepping the appliances child’s play.

  Cotton was growing more frantic as Ethan slowly closed the distance between them. Then his face brightened, and Ethan swore he saw a lightbulb shine over the man’s head. Shooting Ethan a feral grin, Cotton rushes into another room, an office if the bookshelves by the door were any indication.

  Ethan already knew what Cotton was going after, even before hearing the sounds of a heavy box opening followed by several metal clicks. Instead of rushing in to stop the policeman, Ethan decided to turn into a fly and continue his waiting game. He hovered towards the ceiling just as Cotton burst out of the office, now waving around a pistol.

  “Where are you!” Cotton yelled as his head and pistol snapped around the messy hallway, looking for the intruder. “Come out and face me like a man!”

  Ethan said nothing as he continued to hover around like a fly. He slowly floated down towards the cop, but kept his distance in case Cotton picked up the sound of his buzzing. Cotton was hyper-focused on finding a masked intruder, but there was every chance that he could freak out over a small noise like the flutter of bug wings.

  “Not so high and mighty now that I’m armed, huh?!” Cotton shrieked as he slowly paced around his home. He stiffly searched the rooms for any sign of his opponent, blissfully unaware that he was right behind him. “You're the type of guy that can only fight someone who's weaker than them, aren’t you?!”

  “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Ethan asked. Despite being in fly form, his voice retained its usual volume. It caused the cop to whirl around and fire wildly behind him, but Ethan had already floated away from the first spot. The bullets drilled into the wall, but given how Cotton’s head started jerking around again, he cared more about how he still couldn’t see his assailant then the added damage to his home.

  “You didn’t hesitate to attack your wife when all she could do was run,” Ethan added as he circled the cop. “But when up against me, all you did was growl and talk tough. Didn’t even try to throw a punch, cause you knew I’d fight back.”

  “Like Hell I’d fight a mutant freak barehanded!” Cotton screamed. His head kept snapping around to point in different directions, trying to find out where Ethan’s voice was coming from. It didn’t help that the villain’s voice sounded like he was right next to him. Ethan was worried Cotton might snap his neck if this kept up, which wouldn’t do at all.

  “Hey, I get it,” Ethan said patronizingly. “Bullies never pick a fight unless they’re guaranteed to win.” Cotton’s face turned red, and Ethan wondered if he was trying to pop a blood vessel.

  “You self-righteous freak!” Cotton shouted. “You think you can judge me because you're running around playing hero?! I’m actually on the street keeping the peace while you only show up when there’s a camera pointed at your face!”

  “And that gives you the right to treat your wife like shit?” Ethan asked. He meant it as a taunt, but he was curious as to why people like Cotton acted the way they did. Deep down, they had to know they were in the wrong, right? That their actions were only hurting people and weren’t of any help to anyone?

  “Fuck you!” was Cotton’s answer. Ethan let out a sigh; the response was disappointing yet entirely expected. Cotton refused to explain himself and just acted like he was entitled to his rotten behavior. ‘Just like Dad…’

  Having had enough of the exchange, Ethan turned back into his human form and smacked the pistol out of Cotton’s hands. The man gasped in surprise, then coughed in pain as Ethan’s staff shot into his chest and pushed him away. Cotton tumbled to the ground but was quick to scramble back to his feet and retake his weapon. He stopped halfway to stare at Ethan in wide-eyed horror as he stood there with the pistol dangling from his gloved finger.

  “I never did like guns,” Ethan stated as he casually twirled the weapon. “They always end up in the hands of assholes who think they're untouchable when they can kill people.” Twisting the gun so it landed handle-first in his palm, Ethan fiddled with the firearm until the magazine popped out. Then, with overly casual ease, Ethan threw the gun behind him before chucking the clip into the adjacent room.

  Cotton and Ethan stared at each other in silence. The cop was still crouched on the floor, still deciding whether to get up or not. Ethan elected to make the choice easier for the other man. Shrinking the staff down to the size of a pen, Ethan stuffed his weapon in his pocket and faced the cop with empty hands. Cotton still hadn’t gotten to his feet and was warily observing the villain.

  “Well?” Ethan asked, holding out his bare hands. “I’m unarmed and standing right in front of you. Even though you're facing a “mutant freak”, it shouldn’t be too hard to overpower me in a fist fight. You're big and strong, and I’m just some stringy punk. What are you afraid of? Get up and fight me, like the man you wish you were.”

  Cotton’s face regained its rabid dog visage as he finally stood up. The second he was on his feet, he charged at Ethan and swung a heavy punch towards his face. Ethan ducked and sent two jabs into Cotton, one at his chest, the other in his side. Cotton staggered to slightly before throwing another punch at the villain’s head. Ethan sidestepped it and sent a quick strike to Cotton’s nose.

  The cop stumbled backwards but quickly regained his composure. He ran forward and tried to punch Ethan in the stomach, but the villain dodged by jumping on the wall and then launching himself into the cop. Ethan’s fist connected with Cotton’s eye and sent him sprawling onto the ground. Instead of pressing the attack, Ethan hung back and watched as Cotton struggled to stand up.

  “That all you got?” Ethan asked coldly.

  “Is this how you get your kicks?” Cotton asked, his voice rasping through the pain. “Beating the shit out of people who are weaker than you?”

  “So you're admitting you're weak?” Ethan asked with a mirthless chuckle. “There might be hope for you yet.” Cotton let out a growl of rage as he suddenly turned and rushed towards the wukong. Ethan countered with a spin kick that caught Cotton in his cheek and sent him tumbling into the wall. The cop bounced off the surface before advancing again, but his steps were a lot more shaky.

  With an angry grunt, Cotton swung his arms around with the grace of a plastic tubeman. His anger and desperation pushed him forward, but he was still too sluggish to touch Ethan. The villain easily avoided Cotton’s swings and countered with a punch to the gut, winding Cotton and letting Ethan send a follow-up punch to his face.

  Cotton started to fold but refused to go down. Somehow staying on his feet, the cop lunged at Ethan, trying to grab him, but the villain met him halfway. Surging forward, Ethan rammed his shoulder into Cotton’s chest, forcing the older man to stop his charge, then throw a kick into his sternum that sent Cotton flying. The policeman soared through the air and crashed into the dining room, landing on the table and falling to the ground in a crumbled heep.

  Ethan slowly walked towards the man, giving him time to get to his feet and continue the fight. By the time he stood near Cotton, the cop stayed on the ground and was breathing heavily. The fight was over, but Ethan still didn’t want to end things here.

  “Well?” Ethan asked as he stood over the man. “You gonna get up or what?”

  “This… changes… nothing…” Cotton grunted out as he glared at Ethan with his non-swollen eye. “It… doesn’t… matter… how long… I’m in… the hospital. …The moment… I get out… that bitch is dead! …My boys… will hunt her down… make her life… a living Hell… and then… we’ll come after you!”

  Ethan stared at this vile man in quiet astonishment. From Cotton’s point of view he was being punished for his past cruelty. Yet his response to it was to double down out of spite? Where was the logic in that? Doesn’t he know he’s the bad guy here? Couldn’t he see he was hurting his wife and, apparently, his son too? Did he even care? He acted like he had the right to abuse them, and Ethan was the bad guy for trying to stop him. Sure, he called it guidance, but if that wasn’t an excuse, then Cotton was delusional on top of being an asshole.

  Ethan felt his anger mix with disgust as he took in Cotton’s hateful gaze. The villain felt a need to smash that look to pieces, but there was a strange feeling of helplessness on top of the anger. Cotton swore he wouldn’t change, no matter what Ethan did to him. Of course, that wasn’t the point, but Ethan couldn’t help but feel antagonized over the man’s words. If Cotton was going to continue being his hateful self just to piss off Ethan, then the Wukong wanted nothing more than to make him regret it.

  It was then, as Ethan stared down at this lump of garbage of a human being, that he felt the drive to do something truly villainous.

  “Well then,” Ethan said coldly. “I guess I’ll have to make sure you never get out.” Cotton had a split second to look surprised before he found himself being enveloped white fluff. Cotton thrashed around on the floor as he tried to free himself from the substance, but it was no use. Seconds later, the cop was encased in a literal cloud. The mass of water vapor twisted and bent as Cotton continued to struggle, but the white bundle held firm.

  Ethan commanded the cloud to rise, and it floated above the ground, still holding the struggling cop within. That was good; this idea was created on the spot, and it wouldn’t do for Cotton to slip out.

  “I’d stop struggling if I were you,” Ethan told the cop as he and the cloud left the house. “Unless you wanna see if you can survive a 20-story drop.” Cotton didn’t stop struggling; if anything, the cloud started contorting harder.

  ‘Stubborn bastard,’ Ethan thought with disgust. He planned to ride on top of Cotton’s cloud prison, but if the cop was going to be difficult, then it’d be better for Ethan to make a separate cloud to ride on.

  “Boss,” a clone called out as Ethan created his mount. “Are you sure about this?” Ethan’s copies must have access to Ethan’s thoughts, as it wasn’t hard to guess what they were talking about.

  “You heard him,” Ethan responded as he jumped onto the new cloud. “He’s going to get worse just to spite me. I’m not going to let some asshole use me as an excuse to double down on his bullshit.”

  “But you know that your plan might be what crosses the line,” the clone added hesitantly. Ethan took in a deep breath to avoid the oncoming panic attack. There was that little voice in his head that warned he was going too far when he first made up his mind, but Ethan ignored it. Now his clone was bringing his worries to the forefront of his mind. But despite the potential consequences, Ethan was determined to see this through to the end.

  “I know,” was his reply. “But I need to do this.”

  Pulling out his phone and bringing up his GPS, Ethan put in his destination and flew there with Cotton’s cloud prison. According to the app, it’d take Ethan over twelve hours to drive to his objective, but with his flight capabilities, he made it there in just under three. He had to constantly stop and allow the app to refresh itself as it went haywire over him not being hindered by traffic, but the villain still made good time.

  Ethan tried to calm his nerves as he flew over the sandy dunes and observed the desert underneath his cloud. Ethan took slow and steady breaths to try to ease the nausea that was growing in his stomach. He didn’t need to get sick before or after the deed.

  When he found a nice and isolated patch of land, Ethan landed his clouds and allowed Cotton to tumble to the ground. The man groaned in pain as he hit the floor and rolled onto his back. Ethan waited for the noises to stop and watched quietly as the cop took in his surroundings.

  “W-Where are we…?” Cotton asked, stunned. He sounded a bit dazed and didn’t seem to understand what was happening. Granted, by the time he and Ethan arrived, night had fallen and the desert had cooled down, so he probably hadn’t registered the danger he was in yet.

  “Welcome to Death Valley,” Ethan said coldly, pretending to look over the scenery. He felt his throat start to dry up, but he kept his voice steady and clear. “900 miles away from Poppytown. By the time you manage to crawl back there, Katherine and Randy will be long gone.” Ethan turned to stare into Cotton’s wide, unbelieving eyes. “If you get back.”

  Cotton looked at Ethan in quiet horror as he finally realised the situation he was in. His head snapped around and saw the large dunes in all directions, but not an ounce of civilization.

  “N-no…” Cotton choked out as he tried to stand up. He managed to get to his knees, but his shaky arms couldn’t push him further than that. He turned back to Ethan and looked at the boy with barely restrained panic. “Th-that’s not how this works! Y-You can’t just… dump me in a desert!”

  “Do I look like someone who cares about convention?” Ethan asked, gesturing to his attire. “I play by my own rules. And when someone decides to use me as a scapegoat to be a piece of shit… Well, this is the first time that’s happened, so I don’t have a standard response, but I think this’ll do.”

  “No!” Cotton howled as he tried crawling towards Ethan. The man collapsed into the sand before reaching the boy, but Ethan raised his cloud slightly just in case. “You can’t leave me here! I’ll die!”

  “Should’ve thought about that before opening your mouth,” Ethan spat bitterly. The contrast between the arrogant man from before and the now broken Cotten was so strong that Ethan felt even more disgust than before. Gone was the cop who spitefully declared vengeance against Ethan and Katherine; now, he was nothing more than a pathetic welp who was crying over the mess he put himself in. The sight dispelled the sickening feeling in Ethan’s stomach as he glared down at the simpering mess.

  “I take it all back!” Cotton cried out as he desperately tried to rise from the ground. “I swear I won’t come after you or Katherine ever! I’ll let her leave and be a better person, I swear! Just please don’t leave me here! I don’t want to die!”

  Ethan stared at the broken man with cold detachment. Despite his heartwrenching cries, Ethan felt no sympathy for Cotton. It was only after he realised the consequences of his actions that he suddenly regretted them. If anything, his sudden desire for mercy made most of Ethan’s hesitancy disappear.

  Most of it… but not all. The moment Ethan left, Cotton would die, and it would be his fault. Ethan may not be committing the act himself, but there was no denying that Cotton’s blood would be on his hands.

  The very idea scared Ethan enough to rattle him to the core. Killing was wrong, no matter the circumstances. That’s what he’d been taught when he was old enough to understand these things: and while Ethan had been second-guessing almost everything he’s ever known, he’s never had a reason to question that part. If Ethan left, he’d be a murderer. And that’d be a stain on his soul he’d carry for the rest of his life. Did he really want to do this?

  Ethan looked down at Cotton, took in how he was trying to kneel in the sand, but looked more like a crumpled wad of paper. His pleas for mercy turned into a mess of sobs and whimpers as he continued to beg for his life. Why was Ethan so mad at this guy again?

  Ethan thought back to their confrontation. How Cotton tried to belittle him, throwing out insults, trying to threaten and intimidate him, disregard his value, make him feel like he was a waste of space--.

  Wait… That wasn’t right… Cotton was a jerk, but he could barely scratch Ethan, let alone make him feel like he was worthless. No… those feelings only came around when Ebenezer had to deal with his father.

  Ethan let out a long sigh. Cotton stared up at him with desperate pleading eyes, but Ethan ignored them. Of course, this cop would remind Ethan of his father. He was counting on that to inspire him to do more damage. What the villain didn’t account for was the association working too well and transferring his darker feelings toward his father onto Cotton.

  It was why Ethan didn’t want to just beat up the older man; he wanted to break him. Take that feeling of superiority and smash it to pieces. Looking down on the broken man, Ethan could see he had done just that and brought this arrogant officer down low. Ethan couldn’t help but feel a dark satisfaction as he listened to more of the man’s whimpers. But that feeling wasn’t enough to quell the voice in the back of his mind that was telling him to spare the cop.

  Did Ethan really have to go so far? Did he really have to let Cotton die? He says he’ll change, but what do his words matter? There’s nothing stopping Cotton from going back on his word the moment he thinks he’s safe. His father changed his stances on stuff all the time when it suited him. What’s to stop Cotton from doing the same thing?

  And what would it mean for Ethan if he backed off now? How could he truly defeat his enemies if he didn’t have the guts to do what’s necessary? If he stopped now, if his Niceness got in the way of destroying his adversaries, Ethan would spend the rest of his life as their slave. Then all he could look forward to was to be broken and thrown away like a cheap calculator.

  “No.” The word slipped out of Ethan’s mouth with grim conviction. It was both a declaration to himself and an answer to the other man’s pleas. Without another glance, Ethan flew into the sky, leaving Cotton screaming in the desert.