Spoilers/Timeline: Pre-Series; general knowledge of Lyle’s “creation,” so to speak.
Author’s Note: Ahhh Lyle, how I love thee. I think this might flow a little funny, so let me know what you think!
Note: Written for the Pretender100 challenge of “No More Mister Nice Guy.” Also written for the Fanfic100 prompt of “Beginnings.”
Summary: In a gas station bathroom, a man becomes a monster under the watchful eye of The Centre.
And Another Begins
The young man bent over the sink and splashed some water on his face, the coolness causing a tingling in his cheeks. He flinched slightly as the soap stung a cut on the back of his hand, and again he looked into the mirror.
He barely recognized himself. Gone was the terrified little boy that had inhabited that house (and shed) for the last fourteen years. In his place was a young man on the brink of something brilliant, just about to come out and show the world what he was capable of.
It was a pity that his friend had to die, but that was the way it must be. It was the only way he could escape and get revenge at the same time. The boy had been a fool, anyway, thinking that the local police would be able to help Bobby with his problem.
No, this was a problem that had required drastic measures. He grinned into the mirror, a darkness clouding his eyes. Now, he gloated to himself, Lyle Bowman would pay for his actions. The nice, sweet, subdued child he thought he had created rose up against him and destroyed his world.
He relished that feeling of absolute power.
He continued to stare into the mirror, into himself, and he found that he really did recognize himself. This was who he was behind the scared little boy: A man who will take what he wants and have no shame for his actions. He winked to his reflection, and then finished cleaning up. The wounds he had suffered stung when met with the harsh soap, but he knew they would heal. He wasn't worried.
As he left the gas station bathroom and walked into the sunshine, he spotted the black sedan waiting for him. A man exited from the back and met him halfway, his hat leaving part of his face in shadow.
"Good work," the man rasped, taking a drag from his cigarette. Bobby smiled, knowing it was with this man that he belonged.
His life was just beginning.
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