The only game Thomas was interested in – and interested in avoiding – was the one he knew the man was referring to.

The Spot.

He hadn't particularly thought, because there was only one real answer and it was one he didn't want to admit to, how they came across their contestants. He had seen the show with his father. Iain was a big fan and would cheer loudly when the participants were taken down. Thomas had cheered along with his father. It was their time together, even before his mother's death, and was one of the few highlights of his younger days spent with Iain. They bonded over those hours, occasionally staying up late to watch the unabridged live episodes instead of the dinner and night time highlight shows. Of course, the finals were the best part and Thomas couldn't deny he'd cheered for the Spotters as they closed in for the final kill.

There was never a shortage of contestants. Each show was filled with the insane or those verging on madness, their availability or supply never questioned. Now, however, Thomas knew how they gained them. Family members, afraid of the damage done or, perhaps, for some monetary compensation, gave them up.

Just as his father had done to him.

Teams such as the one facing them must be the enforcers. They'd be sent in to retrieve the 'chosen' one. Only having previously seen the Spotters on the television, he couldn't be sure if they were the same people as these. It didn't matter. They'd found him.

"I'd rather not," said Thomas.

The man laughed heartedly, as if he'd heard the best joke of his life. He bent double, banging against his chest and guffawed.

"You'd rather not? That's priceless! You're priceless, lad!"

His team exchanged smirks, but didn't break rank or allow their mirth to be heard.

"You're an oddity, Thomas Benedict Iain Mason. An oddity."

Bren glanced at him at the mention of his full name. Her look was hard to read, but it didn't seem to have the same level of hilarity the man's or the usual bullies did, for which he was grateful. Benedict. What sort of name, even one hidden in the middle, was Benedict? The old taunts had to be forgotten, though. He needed to concentrate on more immediate matters.

"I am?"

"Oh, yes. Don't you see?" Thomas shook his head and the man turned to his comrades. "You see it, don't you? Dumas? Enderson? Pottkins? You get it, don't you Pulfrey? Browning?"

All nodded, their individual naming serving to emphasise that he hadn't stated his own. All remained stony faced as if no, whatever they might say, they didn't see it. Not at all. They'd been tasked to find the boy and they had. Anything further was extraneous.

"An oddity, my boy. Ten years old and, so I'm told by dear Daddy, still in full control of your faculties."

'Daddy'. The word cut into him deeply and he felt himself bleeding tears of pain. He had to steel himself against it, however. His father's betrayal was old news. This man couldn't open up any new wounds. He couldn't!

"Yeah, so?"

"Ohhh, brave, too. I guess you'd have to be. Ten and you haven't reached your full potential. That must be hard. I bet you've had to face up to some tough times, eh?"

Thomas began to nod, but stopped himself. He wasn't going to give this man anything.

"Well, you might not have got your powers, boy, but you've still got your wits. That's what make you odd. You should be full gone crazy by now. We should be chasing you down on The Spot."

So, they were Spotters. They'd take him to the show, let him lost, them capture him again.

"But, you're not," Thomas said.

"Very true. We're not. You can thank your dad for that."

His dad? The man who had made the call that had resulted in this meeting? Perhaps not.

"I can see you're sceptical. I can understand that. I would be too. Doesn't matter anyway. We've got you know. I assume you know what that means?"

Thomas stood straighter rather than answer. His change of posture was enough. It answered the question admirably.

"I thought so. Your dad told us you weren't a slow one. Glad to see he was right about you. Some of us really doubted it."

"What do you mean? You know my father?"

"Know your father? Me?" He laughed again. It was more controlled this time. More for show than genuine mirth. "No, lad. I don't know him. He left before I had the pleasure. Wish I had, though."

Left? Left? What was he trying to say? That Thomas's father had been...?

"You're lying," Thomas snapped. "Fucking liar."

"Young Mister Mason, I don't lie. Never have, never will. That right guys?"

He didn't need to look at his team for them to know the question was directed at them. There was a chorus of 'Yes sir!' and a jump to attention. Thomas got the message, but still didn't believe it. His young mind struggled with the concept of what might be being implied.

"Bren?" he said in desperation. Maybe she could give him some clarity. Make sense of the man's words.

She didn't get the chance to speak.

"Ah, yes. Where are my manners. Augusta Briars. It's good to meet you. Your parents say hi."

"Fuck you. And my name isn't Augusta."

"Well, not since you left home and decided to call yourself something else. Bren, isn't it? I like it!"

Thomas scowled. She'd lied to him again. When would people stop doing that? How much of her story was bullshit?

"Oh, don't be too harsh, Mr. Mason. She wanted to get away and I don't blame her. I'd change my name too if I was associated with her family. In fact, I did. My original name was Clint. My parents liked an old actor. They thought it would be cool. I disagreed, so I changed it. Ethan is so much better than Clint, isn't it? Of course, I killed them first so they couldn't argue the point. Parents can be so... disappointing sometimes, can't they guys?"

"You don't know anything about me, Ethan" Bren said through tightly clenched teeth.

"Oh," said the man. "I believe you're wrong about that." He took a purposeful, long stride forward and grinned. "I know everything about you. And my name isn't actually Ethan. I just like it better than Clint. I decided on David. Everyone knows a Dave, don't they? Means I can blend in until, well, until I don't want to. Times like this, maybe."

It was as if his team had been waiting for that statement as their cue to move. Dumas dropped into a crouch, her hands brought up in claws. Her eyes changed from green to black and, as she opened her mouth, her fangs could be seen elongating. The others took up similar poses. One pulled a gun as he lifted into the air. Another drew a similar weapon, but watched as it left her hand and levitate over to her leader's left shoulder. He didn't look at it, but his smile widened. A third blurred and seemed to vanish from where she stood. Bren and Thomas heard her skid to a halt behind them and both glanced back. The fourth, Pulfrey, snapped his fingers and sparks leapt to the ground, running in a circle around him.

The final one leant forward at her waist. She brought her hands in front of her and squeezed her hands into tight fists. Her body shook, as if a minor earthquake had sent tremors through her and, suddenly, her arms, legs and torso tripled in size, increasing in bulk to a size her clothes must have been, but weren't, straining at their seams.

The unnamed man in charge clapped his hands.

"Impressive, aren't they?"

Thomas said nothing. Bren just scowled.

"Come now, don't be shy. Show us what you've got." He slapped his thigh and pointed at the boy. "That's right, Mr. Mason. You can't!"

"Leave him alone!" Bren shouted, taking the stance of someone about to enter a fight.

"Or what?" the man growled.

He balled his hand and opened it again. A blue flame danced in his palm.

Bren looked at it, then to the others, with a final sidelong glance at the one behind them.

"You don't want to know."

"Take them!"

As one, the Spotters moved. The leader swept his hand back and launched a fireball at Bren, who pushed Thomas to the side. The Flasher that had sped behind them was beside the boy before he could hit the ground. She held onto him tightly. One of her teammates, the one whose power seemed to be similar to Billy's snapped his fingers in Bren's direction and electricity leapt from his fingertips into her. Her body went rigid and she threw her head back, screaming. The gun floating fired three times in quick succession. The bullets were directed at Bren and Thomas cried out, sure she'd been hit.

She hadn't. The bullets hung in the air just as the gun that fired them. They were less than an inch from her face. She blinked and they fell to the floor.

The Floater hovered out and up, taking aim at her. He gave a short nod and the first gun fired again, this time accompanied by his second. Bren ducked, shaking off the electrical charge that was still flashing across her. The bullets, coming from two directions, did make contact, but bounced off her to land beside their brethren. David was swirling his hands around each other. A small flame grew rapidly into a fireball and then, as he brought his hands wider apart, an enormous, surging sphere of flames.

Both children could feel its blazing heat, and even the Spotters shrank back from it. All apart from the Savage. Dumas.

The woman, now in her altered form, leapt up and over her superior, through the inferno – which split then rejoined at her passing – and landed on top of Bren. The two tumbled back, with Dumas snarling and Bren grunting at the impact. Thomas fought against the Flasher's grip, trying to break free to help his friend, but he couldn't break free. He could only stand and watch as Dumas threw Bren high into the air and, as the girl fell, kick her backwards. She landed against a tree and he could hear the breaking of bones. Bren's body lay limp.

"Nooooo!" Thomas shrieked.

The Flasher released his hold and the boy ran to Bren, dropping to his knees by her side. He tentatively reached out but was too afraid to touch her. Dumas was back on her feet, facing the pair, ready to pounce if needed but her monstrous body relaxed.

"Oh, Dumas!" David moaned. "You always spoil my fun!"

Dumas growled low. Her mouth widened to show her fangs in a grimace that was trying to pass as a smile. David dropped his hands and the fireball slowly began to dissipate.

Thomas gasped and suddenly dropped to the side to reveal a transformed Bren. She was still morphing, but the change was almost complete. Clicks and cracks could be heard as her bones knitted back together, but she was no longer a girl. No longer appearing human.

She roared.

It was a deep throated cry of anger that vibrated through the gathered enough to rattle their teeth. She stood to her full new height, towering above Thomas. Her head, part lion and part of something that looked like a massive lizard, hit the lower branches of the tree and she swatted her hands – now large, flat paws with talons pushing out – at them, snapping even the thickest with ease. She moved forward, stepping over Thomas, and stomped her foot down in the earth. It still looked like her own foot, but had scales and the nails had thickened and sharpened. Something flicked out behind her, snapping the trunk of the tree. It fell against her but she appeared to hardly notice, shrugging it away with a twitch of her shoulders. It landed, just missing Thomas's head.

Dumas's body tensed and she jumped at the girl and, simultaneously, the Flasher and the other of David's team moved against her. None came close. She raised her hands and brought them up, then down. All five were lifted into the air before smashing down.

Bones could be heard to break once more but, this time, the victims didn't move.

Bren roared again, this time at the Spotters' leader. David looked at each of his fallen comrades, and ignored the ferocity of Bren's voice. He turned his attention to her and, slowly, started clapping his hands, moving forward in steady, deliberate steps. Bren lifted her hand and brought it forward, and the tree mimicked her gesture, raising up and forward, directly at the man. He waved his fingers and it burst into bright flames that were extinguished in an instant, leaving only ash to drift across to him. He stopped walking and stood with his arms folded.

"Simmons!"

Before Bren could react, a figure materialsed behind her and snapped its fingers. The force field that had hidden him buzzed into life around the girl except, this time, it didn't obscure her from sight. It held her fast, resisting the most violent of her strikes.

She stopped fighting and returned to her proper form, staring at David. After a few seconds, she turned and mouthed something at Thomas. He couldn't hear the words, but he knew what she'd said.

"I'm sorry."

With that, she shimmered, then disappeared.