Monday 12 p.m. October 3rd

Paul didn't enjoy much outside his living room, but he had to admit he got a kick out of millenials and their coffee shops. Boise Idaho's Impresso Espresso with its hipster music and its Bohemian decor was the perfect gathering place for millenials to congregate. The world tricked an entire generation into thinking that their opinion actually matters. The purest manifestation of that toxic ideology was social media, but millenials in coffee shops were a close second. Youths strutting around fancying themselves intellectuals, poets, and artists, but none willing to admit they didn't know what the fuck they're talking about. A nice change of pace from his soap operas.

Joseph Banford, his next victim, had been waiting patiently at a table for approximately thirty-three minutes and was getting sweatier by the moment. Every couple seconds, the man would dab at his forehead with a drenched napkin and look around the room for his "date." The white button-up shirt he'd worn for the occasion was now decorated with a matching pair of rapidly expanding pit stains. Paul liked to keep them waiting, so he had an idea of how desperate they were. Joey here was desperate to the tune of a couple thousand a month Paul wagered.

Groans of protest from his chair announced Paul was about to make his move. He tried to

ignore the stares of the patrons and the shortness of breath he felt as he lumbered across the room. Keep sipping your vanilla lattes you fucking mouth breathers. Paul paused halfway across the room and took a deep breath to steady himself. Regaining his composure, The rest of the way Paul strutted across the room, so elated by his potential windfall he felt weightless. He slid into the chair across from Joseph as much as a man of his size could slide into anything, and was met with a curt response.

"I'm sorry buddy, but this seat's taken. I'm waiting for someone."

"You're looking at her," Paul leered.

The man's brown eyes narrowed and his mouth clenched, the muscles of his jaw straining to contain himself. When his eyes met Paul's, the look was replaced with disgust. As much as he'd have liked to, Paul couldn't blame the man for his reaction, but that didn't stop Paul from hating him any less. There's a reason Paul had removed all the mirrors in his house, no one liked to look at a man with burn scars covering the entire right side of their bodies, least of all himself. The smell of sizzling fat, Old Spice deodorant, and pine forests accompanied any glance in the mirror transporting him to nooks of memories he'd rather not visit.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Joseph asked startling Paul back into the present.

"I'm StylesFanXOXO. Oh, you don't recognize me. That's okay, that's a pretty old profile picture. I've changed my hair since then. Do you like it?" Paul winked.

Joseph's voice lowered, "You a cop?"

Paul guffawed until he was out of breath again, "You're going to wish I was a cop Joey boy."

"Listen buddy, what do you want?"

"I'm so glad you asked. I've thought a lot about this. Does $2,000 a month tickle your fancy. It certainly tickles mine."

"You must be out of your goddamn mind! Not gonna happen."

"I've looked over your financials and extracurricular activities, and feel like I'm being quite reasonable given the circumstances."

"You're bluffing."

"Oh Joseph, how I do love it when they put up a fight. Why don't I outline just why the fight is already over? The first thing I do is prowl the One Direction, Supernatural, and whatever other forums and subreddits innocent girls frequent and look for someone who triggers my intuition. Ya see, I have kind of a sixth sense for creeps like you. Next, I trace the IP, which believe me is an absolute pain in my enormous ass, because most of the time it turns up nothing, but every once and awhile, I hit the jackpot with a complete and utter dipshit like yourself. Have you never heard of a VPN? This is where the fun begins. I figure out who Joseph Banford from Boise, Idaho truly is. Wife and kid? Check. Accountant for a massive corporation? Check. Skimming money from his employers? Check. They really oughta fire the chimpanzee in charge of running digital security over at Melaleuca. Firewall? More like a sand castle. $2,000 for me not destroying your life and getting you thrown in prison sounds pretty generous doesn't it?"

His target's eyes darted back and forth unconsciously looking for routes of escape, but it didn't matter where he ran. Paul was everywhere, even while kicking back in his Relaxzen Rocker.

"You're a sick fuck, you know that?" he said in defeat.

"Right back at you, I'm just better at it," Paul retorted.

At that, the look on Joseph's face changed. He went from being prey trying to escape to a feral animal that knows it's been cornered. The chair he'd been sitting in squealed against the floor from the force of Joseph standing up. The next thing he knew, the man's finger was pointing at Paul.

"Do you wanna know what I think?" he asked.

"What's that my darling?"

"I'm not giving you a dime."

"I've really got to be getting home to Real Housewives of New Jersey. Let me know when you've skipped the denial stage and arrive at acceptance. I'm so glad we did this." Paul said, readying himself to stand up.

A hand pressed itself on Paul's chest and shoved him back down. "You're a sniveling little worm. Guys like you don't have a backbone. That's why you hide behind your computer screen. If you expose me, you'd be incriminating yourself. You've got a real stomach on you, but I know you don't have the stomach for prison. Here's what's going to happen. I leave this coffee shop, and I'm never going to hear from your sorry ass again, because if I do, I'll show you that you're not the only one with some tricks up their sleeve. Trust me, I won't be meeting you in a fucking coffee shop. Are we done, or do we need to keep talking about it outside?"

The sharp scent of something familiar assailed Paul's nostrils; something he never wanted to smell again.

"Are you wearing Old Spice deodorant?"

"Uhhh... yes. I am. I think we're done." he said and turned his back on Paul.

I will have my revenge

A rage bubbled up inside of Paul. An old rage, one that had laid dormant inside him for twenty years, kindled anew. Violet threads spewed forth from Paul's body connecting him to everything in the room, and he was the only one who seemed to notice. The strands vibrated transmitting crystal, clear information of the room around him. He could sense the barista behind the counter sneeze into her hand moments before handing a patron his lemon-raspberry donut. Another vibration told him that a horny college student seated behind the bar was watching the sneezing barista with an increasing bulge between his legs. Most importantly, the strands connected Paul to the beating heart of Joseph Banford as he strode across the room.

Paul grabbed hold of that thread and travelled along its length until he was inside his target. He grasped his heart and traced along the veins leading out of his heart, feeling the pulsations resonate through his body. A creature of intuition, Paul acted on an instinct he didn't quite understand, stopping at an artery that ran up Joe's neck and into his brain. His fingers caressed the artery, revelling in its strength and vitality. As Joseph was about to reach the door, the fingers pinched, hard, severing the artery.

The strands dissipated into the air as a spray of blood painted the ceiling. Silence fell over the room like a shroud, no one quite able to register what they'd seen. Banford's body still stood there his head cocked backwards at an impossible angle. He swayed back and forth until finally his body fell backward with a weak thud. The "ding" announcing someone had entered the shop broke people from their trance.

A woman in a business suit that had looked annoyed and in a hurry rushed to the body and shouted, "Somebody call 911!"

The store erupted into a flurry of motion and shouting, while Paul remained seated in his table clear across the room.

Nowhere near Joseph Banford. 

SaintCole reporting for duty!

I was really worried about writing this chapter. I wanted to give a hint of Paul's past without hitting you guys over the head with it, and avoid making his power cheesy as heck.

Everytime you guys vote, it makes me smile. Let's keep that up shall we?

Finally, what are your thoughts about this one? Did Joseph deserve to die? Do you think Paul will be remorseful about what he did?