CUTTING THE STRINGS

By Tobias Christopher

12 Years Earlier

Randall Weir was the scrawniest kid in school, and was often the target of bullies just for the crime of being small. It wasn’t that he was a nerd; Randall loved sports and was trying to make some team- ANY team- that would have him. But being 98 pounds, there wasn’t a lot he could do athletics wise.

But while there were a lot of kids who teased him and made fun of him, there was one boy who had his back. The captain of the football team, who stood six feet tall with golden hair, blue eyes, and a huge heart. This young man made sure that Randall was protected whenever he was around, and quickly spread the word that his friend wasn’t to be harassed.

Randall looked up to the boy, and strived to be just like him. He started working out harder, training harder. He was going to be like the one person who was willing to hang out with him. Then the day came when Randall’s best friend lost everything.

The captain of the football team had gotten his girlfriend pregnant, and while her parents were pushing her to abort, the boy couldn’t bear the thought of something he helped create dying. So he quit school and started working to care for what would turn out to be twin boys. Randall’s best friend had given up his life to work full time, leaving his friends, his football scholarship, and his freedom behind to raise his boys.

And that’s when the bullying and harassment started getting worse. Randall tried to ignore it, but he had no to talk to. His mother had died when he was young, and his own father was too busy working to notice his problems. And with his best friend gone, Randall had no one left to turn to.

Then came the night when Randall Weir decided to end it all. By the time his father found him, Randall had hung himself in his bedroom, leaving the pain and suffering behind.

And that’s when Jordan Weir swore vengeance.

Over the next few years, Weir, who had a degree in science and engineering, had tracked down his son’s bullies one by one, and through his home made devices, had made all of their deaths look like suicide. Eventually, their was only one person left to get vengeance on: Randall’s supposed best friend, who had left his friend to die. The one who had promised to protect Randall from the bullies, then just ditched him.

Weir had discovered that the one of the young man’s twin sons had died early, and that had given him an idea. Weir had age progressed a picture of the living son and created an android puppet based on the picture. When the time came, he would use the puppet to haunt the man with the memories of the son he’d lost, destroying him mentally before Weird finished him physically.

Unfortunately, the young man by then had disappeared, having taken a job in California that would allow him to go to school to obtain a journalism degree, which would then lead to a job to support himself and his surviving son. Weir’s vengeance would have to be put on hold, but the puppet who would come to be known as Mitchell, unbeknownst to Weir, was constantly updating his programming, until the beginnings of free will began to form in the puppet boy’s computerized mind…

Today

Mitchell had taken Terry to a nearby abandoned warehouse, where a newspaper had recently shut its doors due to low readership. The printing press was still there as Mitchell started working on turning it on. Once it was operational, he would drop Terry in, crushing him to death.

“What are you doing?” Terry asked as he opened his eyes. “Mitchell?”

The puppet boy looked up, with Weir still controlling him. As he realized what he was about to do, he started fighting the controls, his free will struggling to come out. Terry’s hands were still bound, but he managed to reach into his back pocket for his cell phone. Luckily he was a master texter and could do it blindfolded.

“What are you waiting for?” Weir asked. “Do it!”

Mitchell put his hand on the button to start the press, still fighting not to push it. He wasn’t too far off from gaining free will, and Weir was starting to realize it.

“Fine,” Weir said as he headed for the closet and pulled out a gun. “Time to take matters into my own hands.”

Green Lantern was flying over the city, looking for any sign of Mitchell. He’d disappeared from Kyle Rayner’s apartment without a trace, and the hero immediately suspected foul play. He was starting to care for the boy he’d taken into his home, and even though he knew Mitchell couldn’t stay with him, he still wanted to see him safe.

As he flew over the city, he felt his phone going off. It was a text from Terry.

“Need help (frowney face). Being held over a printing press, about to die (teary face). Mitchell’s here, he’s a dick. (angry face). #HURRY!”

“A printing press?” Green Lantern asked as he started to think about where Terry was behind held. He turned around and started flying toward Downtown.

Marvin was sitting at the outdoor cafe, waiting for his sister to arrive. She was already an hour later, and Marvin was starting to get worried. His cop senses were tingling, and was starting to think she was in trouble. Just as he was about to go check for her at the hotel, Wendy suddenly arrived.

“Sorry, Marvin, something came up and I forgot my phone at the hotel,” Wendy said as she sat down. “Hope I didn’t worry you.”

“I was about to come to the hotel to check on you,” Marvin told her. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, little brother,” Wendy said as Marvin noticed a scratch on her arm. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I… fell and scratched it. I was in a rush to get here,” she lied. “Let’s order, I’m sure you’re starving as much as I am. You’re probably still a really picky eater, I’m surprised you chose a place like this. Aren’t you usually more a taco person?”

“Hey, I eat a lot more now,” Marvin told her. Terry had turned him on to a lot of new foods over the course of their relationship. Friday night used to be their Netflix night, where they’d order from a different restaurant, from Italian to Chinese to Mexican and everything between, while they binge watched a different show until dawn. “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about me.”

“Same here,” Wendy told him. If only Marvin knew why she was really in town.

“What are you going to do, shoot me, then crush me?” Terry asked as he saw Weir holding the gun.

“The gun’s not for you, boy, it’s for him! It shoots electromagnetic pulses,” Weir said as he pointed it at Mitchell. “I’m a technological genius, but even I never knew that I’d be good enough to build a self aware puppet. How much free will do you have now, Mitchell?”

“Enough to know that killing Terry is wrong,” Mitchell said. “I won’t be your puppet anymore, father. I’m free now, and I choose to let Terry live.”

“Father?” Terry asked. “What the hell is going on?”

“That’s what I want to know!” Green Lantern shouted as he broke through the ceiling. He created a large pair of scissors to cut Terry down, creating an emerald Wonder Woman to catch him as he fell. “Mitchell, are you okay?”

Weir stated firing at the hero, while dragging Mitchell away with his free hand. A shield went up to deflect the bullets as Weir dragged the puppet boy through a door and closed it.

“Terry?”

“I’m fine, go get him!” Terry told him as he brushed himself off.

Green Lantern shot a blast of energy at the door, blasting it open as he flew through. “Mitchell!”

“Green Lantern, watch out!” Mitchell shouted as series of rigged lasers shot the hero to the ground. As he tried to pick himself up, Weir kicked him in the face, sending him flying back.

“Pathetic,” Weir said as he pulled out a small gun. “But still I can’t let a good puppet go to waste.”

“Who are you?” Green Lantern asked as he tried to pick himself up.

“You can call me the Puppet Master,” Weir said as he fired the hypno-ray at Green Lantern. “And you are about to strung up.”

“No!” Mitchell shouted as he jumped onto Weir’s back, giving Green Lantern enough time to get up. Weir tossed Mitchell off and fired his EMP gun at the puppet boy, striking him right where his heart would be if he were human.

Green Lantern blasted the gun out of his hands before putting a barred green cage around him.

“Mitchell, are you alright?” the hero asked as he watched the puppet boy convulsing. “What did you do to him?”

“I fixed him,” Weir smirked. “What are you going to do, hero? You going to kill me for taking that ungrateful little bastard out? You can’t touch me, and you know it.”

“No, but I know someone who can,” Terry told him as he looked at Mitchell.

Days later, Mitchell’s lifeless puppet body sat in the Berg’s garage, unmoving as Kyle put a blanket over him.

“I downloaded everything I could from his memory, it was enough to lead the cops back to his hideout so they could get solid evidence to put him away,” Terry told Kyle.

“He was behind some huge assassinations over the last few decades,” Kyle told him. “But what about Mitchell?”

“That EMP fried him,” Terry said. “I mean, I’m good with computers, and there was barely anything left to save. Well, except this,” Terry handed Kyle his phone.”I kind of… borrowed it.”

“You didn’t change my ringtone again, did you?” Kyle asked.

“Kinda,” Terry said, looking guilty as Kyle looked down at his phone.

“Siri, look up local hospitals because Terry’s going to need one,” Kyle said.

“Who are you calling Siri?” Mitchell asked through the phone.

“Mitchell? But how?” Kyle asked as he looked at Terry, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“Downloaded what was left of his personality into your phone,” Terry told him. “I mean, his body was fried, but he was still in there, so I just transferred him.”

“How are you feeling, buddy?” Kyle asked the phone.

“Small,” Mitchell told him. “But this means I get to stay with you, right?”

“In a weird kind of way, yes,” Kyle said as Billy arrived at the garage door.

“Hey, Terry, your mom said you were out here,” Billy said. “The boss loved the pictures you took. Starting Monday, you’re out of the mailroom, and my official photographer.”

“That’s great, Terry,” Kyle said. “Congratulations.”

“Dad?” a boy’s voice asked from behind Billy. “I thought we were going to get ice cream?”

“We are,” Billy said as he looked at Kyle and Terry. “Sorry, how rude of me. This is my son, Dennis.”

Kyle and Terry’s jaws dropped as an 11 year old boy who looked exactly like Mitchell walked up to them.

TO BE CONTINUED…