Magnificently Magnified

Here is another story I wrote for a contest. The deadline had already passed, but I wrote a story anyway just for fun. It's a bit twisted, but I liked how it came out. What do you think?

Here is the contest prompt:

She always kept the object safe and close to her. Mama made her repeat the promise over and over again during those last days. "I will never show it to a living soul. I will never show it to a living soul."

She cried about Mama less now, not as much as she had before. She was missing Mama now as she did each night when she removed her scuffed shoes. She then carefully peeled the gray sock off her foot, and waited for the familiar object to fall out. Nothing happened. Panicked, she quickly turned her sock inside-out. It was gone.

Here is what I came up with:

Magnificently Magnified

     I am Alex, the one in charge. Even when the others take over, I pull the strings from the balcony.

     I dial 911 and wait for the dispatcher to ask the nature of my emergency.

     “There’s a car fire on Interstate 27, right past the Love Ranch on the southbound side,” I say with mild panic. After the dispatcher promises to send out a patrol car, I click off and throw the disposable phone into the woods behind me. I wait patiently.

     Minutes later, a state trooper car slows near the stolen Buick. I press the remote in my hand, and the car instantly explodes, wildly sending debris in all directions. Two cops leap out of their car, guns drawn. As they approach the flaming vehicle cautiously, they become more viable targets. I aim and take down the older one with the paunch protruding over his belt. The younger one gapes at his partner, but then spins around to seek cover. The patrol car is well behind him and the flaming Buick is hardly a good alternative. He is frozen with indecision.

     When I emerge from behind him, he has only a moment to react, but in half that time, I pounce. As he screams in pain, I quickly cuff him, tossing him over my shoulder. I tuck his gun beside my own in my waistband.

     This is easier than I ever imagined.

     As I near home along a rocky dirt road, I slow my speed to minimize the jostling of the cop in my trunk. I pass my house and pull around behind the barn. I get the cop out of the trunk, at once securing his mouth with duct tape. “You can look, but you can’t talk or touch. Got it?” I ask. He nods with wide eyes.

     I lead him into the barn, quickly pull up the trap door hidden below a bundle of hay in Maisy’s stall, and help him down the stairs. I introduce Mama first. She sits on the jewel-encrusted throne, her velvet dress hiding the shackles at her ankles and wrists. She moans, her eyes fluttering. That’s all she can really do anymore. I miss her terribly sometimes, but it has lessened as the threat she posed succumbs to my victory.

     “Here’s the last one, Mama, I promise,” I say, pushing the cop toward her. Her face contorts slightly, her brow creasing, and she clucks her tongue with disapproval.

     “Oh no,” I say, rushing to the mini-fridge. “You gesture too much.” I draw up the drug into my vial and inject her again. She was overdue anyway. She is now very still, her eyes blinking only slightly. “That’s better.”

     I turn the cop around so he can meet the others. There’s the little boy I nabbed from the park. He complained constantly despite his mom’s efforts to please him. He didn’t appreciate her one bit. Then, there’s the shrink. The one who tried to tell me I had a problem because of the others that live inside me. I beg to differ. He’ll see the light soon enough. There’s my supervisor at work, the one who thinks herself better than everyone, including me. She certainly wasn’t smart enough not to walk to her car alone at night. The others, well, they’ve been here so long, they are hardly worth mentioning. After brief introductions, I lock the cop’s cuffs to his pole so he can watch the show.

     I bend down in the middle of the circle and pull the small, jagged mirror from my right sock. The cuts constantly reassure me of my unique transformation abilities. I tear off the tape from the shrink’s mouth. He sputters, gasping for air. I gently place the mirror between his lips. “Hold it there and don’t move,” I order.

     I turn to Mama. “Now, you told me to never show them to anyone, never to let the other parts of me out. I think it’s time I did what I think is right for a change, don’t you?”

     I turn toward the mirror in the shrink’s mouth and stare intently. I finally feel the twinge. It starts low at the base of my skull, melting upward until it washes over my entire head. I feel Marcia emerging. I stand behind her as she gathers the reins.

     Grabbing the mirror, she puts it back into her sock. I make sure she does that first and then relinquish control for awhile.

     Marcia scans the group slowly, taking her time to choose. She settles on Nancy, my former boss. She unlocks Nancy’s cuffs from her pole and brings her to the middle of the circle.

     As the others watch in horror, Marcia redirects the pain Mama caused me toward the arrogant woman. I look to see if Mama approves, but her eyes refuse to make contact. Wiping blood from her hands, Marcia drags Nancy’s corpse outside the circle.

     Marcia retrieves the mirror from her sock again. She now puts it in the little boy’s mouth. It slips a little on streaming tears, but when she warns him, he holds it tighter in his lips.

     Marcia gazes in the mirror for awhile. I feel the twinge again, the numbing sensation, and then I am Tommy the Innocent, the boy I’d been before Mama started coming to my room at night. Tommy bends to secure the mirror in his sock and then unlocks the boy’s leg chains.

     Tommy finds a stick and draws a crude hopscotch board on the dirt floor in the middle of the circle. He picks up two smooth stones nearby. “Guess you can’t throw,” Tommy says to the boy. “I’ll do it for you, okay?”

     The boy nods. Tommy throws the stone to a square and then motions for the boy to start. The boy hops as he should, but then takes off running.

     “Get back here!” Tommy screams. “No fair! You’re not playing right.”

     The boy runs to the stairs, but with his hands still bound behind him, he is no match for Tommy and his knife. The boy is dragged back to his pole, terrified and bleeding but alive. Tommy reaches for his sock again to retrieve the mirror. This time, he puts it in the cop’s mouth. He has to stand on a stool to reach.

     I feel the twinge again, but it is taking me more time to change than usual. It must be all those eyes on me. I start to feel the numbness again when I hear something shatter.

     I look to the floor. Below me is the mirror, now in a million tiny pieces.

     The cop exhales, a slow smile spreading beneath his duct tape.