When my eyes opened, I saw I was back within the confines of the upstairs living room of my childhood home. I had decided that I would pay Little Me another visit and maybe invite him to watch me train within the Mindspace.

  I found myself standing in the living room doorway looking in. I saw, however, that not only was Little Me nowhere to be seen, but the living room was also trashed.

  The CRT television was smashed. The old red sofas were ripped apart. Even the terrapin tank had been broken open, with the tank water having seeped into the carpet.

  And, at the far side of the living room, I could see that the window panes were broken.

  It didn’t matter if Little Me was just a figment of my imagination made tangible with the power. I had already spent hours hanging out with Little Me and had confided so much in him. He was a part of my psyche, and the idea that he was hurt or in danger filled me with enough dread to bring about a cold sweat.

  I stepped over the broken glass and torn sofa cushions and hurried over to the broken window panes. There was a gap in the middle-most pane to suggest something, or someone, had broken through.

  And I immediately understood who the culprit had been.

  Who else but the Fox-Frog-Monster?

  It had been the Fox-Frog-Monster that had attacked me before, had slashed me across the chest and had already taken over my body not once, but twice. And had only been stopped because of the actions of Azad and Xandra fighting it back into the recesses of my mind, so my own psyche could return to the fore. The last time I had been aware of the Fox-Frog-Monster was being trapped in its form. When I had regained my strength after the exhausting fight between the Fox-Frog-Monster and Xandra, I had not only returned to my ‘normal’ human self, but had also gained the fleshy Slip-suit.

  I had perhaps made the reckless assumption that the Fox-Frog-Monster had been defeated for good. That it’s boundless anger and aggression had been conquered because I had stopped being so spineless in my actions and had taken on more of a leadership role among Azad, Xandra, and myself. Because I had figured the Fox-Frog-Monster was the embodiment within my own psyche of all my pent-up anger that had found a way to rise to the surface despite myself.

  But, like with so many things regarding the power, there were still so many unknowns.

  “Fox-Frog,” I said, aloud to myself.

  I scanned the living room again to make sure I hadn’t missed any signs of blood.

  Thankfully, there weren’t any, but that didn’t make me any less afraid for Little Me’s safety.

  “Little Me!” I called out, aiming my voice to the living room doorway, “Are you here? Hello?!”

  No answer came. Just the familiar trappings of my childhood that had become a vivid nightmare rather than a place of nostalgic comfort.

  I heightened my hearing and determined that, besides myself, there was nobody home.

  I heightened my sense of smell and immediately caught Little Me’s scent, as well as the unmistakable smell of the Fox-Frog-Monster. Or, at least, a smell that greatly resembled the Fox-Frog-Monster.

  It was then that I noticed a fragment of something black caught on the broken window pane.

  I carefully pinched it away and saw it was a black thread, like the kind that would snag on some black material like a jumper or T-shirt.

  Had the fabric belonged to Little Me? I couldn’t remember Little Me wearing anything black. The Fox-Frog-Monster certainly didn’t wear clothes, so whose clothes had the black string torn away from? I was thankful not to see any blood caught on the window, and there was no smell or scent of blood to hint at Little Me having been harmed.

  I jumped out of the window into the front garden of my childhood home below. And it was only then that it occurred to me that I likely had far more control in my own Mindspace than I realised. It was my inner world, wasn’t it? So why was I panicking when getting Little Me back might be as simple as using my imagination?

  I looked up at the night sky. There weren’t any stars, just the golden glow of streetlights.

  Become daylight, I thought, willing it.

  And right away, the night sky changed to a cloudless blue. The streetlights blinked out, and the warmth from the midday sun settled on my face.

  Bring Little Me back, I thought, commanding my inner world to bend to my will.

  This time, nothing seemed to change. I looked around, as if I might see Little Me sat atop a nearby stone wall.

  But no. No sign of Little Me. Not even a feeling inside my head that might hint at where he might be.

  So I could change the sky from night to day, but couldn’t make my inner Mindspace return Little Me the same way.

  I tried to make sense of this.

  Maybe, I thought, parts of my psyche like Little Me and the Fox-Frog-Monster existed outside of my control. There was certainly no controlling the Fox-Frog-Monster. I had made the mistake of thinking the Fox-Frog-Monster was harmless inside the Mindspace.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  A phantom ache in my chest reminded me yet again not to make that same mistake.

  Little Me’s creation hadn’t been intentional either. I had asked Slip to create a copy of my memories, not to create Little Me. But Little Me had been the answer to that request in a roundabout way. And Slip, who was still absent, and perhaps gone for good, had been the first Psyche of mine to be brought about.

  I remembered back to when I had first appeared in the Mindspace and had found myself at the black bench. I hadn’t understood what was going on, so I had commanded the power to help me fumble through the process of understanding the inner workings of my Mindspace.

  And that’s how the copy of me had been created. And later that same copy had taken its purpose -- to help me -- to even greater lengths by becoming Slip.

  At least, that’s what seemed to be the case, as far as I could understand the mystery of how the power was working inside my head.

  “Slip?” I said, aloud, again to myself.

  I hadn’t considered Slip as a possible kidnapper.

  No, I thought. I had caught the thick scent of the Fox-Frog-Monster upstairs. That creature had been the one to smash up the living room.

  I couldn’t dash the idea that Slip might also have something to do with Little Me’s kidnapping from my mind. It was harder to imagine Slip doing such a thing because he had professed back at The Shops Pub that his entire reason for being was to make me into a superhero.

  Had Slip betrayed me? Had he decided after I had lost my fight and had nearly been killed by Sweet-Face that I had failed one too many times? Had he instead decided to join forces with the Fox-Frog-Monster? And to what end? To take over my mind? To take control of my body just like the Fox-Frog-Monster had done twice before?

  “Slip?” I said, aloud, again, “Are you here? I need your help.”

  I waited, but there was no answer. Just the soft rustle of garden bushes in the wind.

  I bounded over the garden wall and broke into a sprint. The scent of the Fox-Frog-Monster was leading up the street. I followed it, and the further I ran, the stronger the scent became.

  Before long, I was racing down Winchester Road, and at last reached the spot where the scent was so thick I was surprised I wasn’t already laying eyes on the Fox-Frog-Monster. The scent of Little Me lingered too, though not quite so strongly.

  And it occurred to me then that the Fox-Frog-Monster might have taken over Little Me. For what purpose I couldn’t fathom. If the Fox-Frog-Monster could take me over, who was to say it couldn’t also do the same to Little Me? Maybe the Fox-Frog-Monster had taken Little Me over as a form of revenge. The mere thought that this might have happened to Little Me made me feel sick.

  I came to a stop close to the zebra crossing at the middlemost point of Winchester Road. I had passed the orange-bricked Church on my way down Hull Road to reach where I was. There were, of course, no people populating this empty world. And it was warm, and not cold like it was in the real world.

  In front of me was the same spot from which the Fox-Frog-Monster had emerged the first time I had encountered it within the Mindspace. It had been nighttime back then, with the Fox-Frog-Monster having emerged out of the shadows shortly before it slashed me across the chest.

  Now it was daylight, because I had made it that way, and ahead of me was a footpath with a fenced-off river to the right. This same river -- called the river Ching-- ran beneath Winchester Road and onto the other side, where it opened back up again.

  Further ahead, in the middle of the narrow pathway, was a high bridge. Atop the bridge were traintracks, which the trains coming and going from Lowems Park station would use.

  And there, among the green-leafed trees, was a large cherry blossom tree.

  Many of the pink cherry blossom leaves had fallen and lay on the long stone path ahead of me.

  Standing in the middle of the long stone path up ahead, beneath the arch of the stone bridge, among the fallen cherry blossom leaves, was Little Me.

  He was trembling and had a profusely runny nose. His pyjamas were ripped in places, too.

  I bounded forward, rocketing along the stone path towards Little Me.

  “No!” Little Me shouted, “Behind you!”

  I had a fragment of a second to take in what Little Me had said. I glanced over my left shoulder just in time to see the black claws of some creature sailing towards my head.

  I yanked my head down, hit the ground in a forward roll, and sprang back up as fast as I could manage.

  My attacker struck the ground and bounded towards me.

  Slow! I thought, desperately.

  I hated using it, but my attacker was moving so fast I had no other choice but to slow down my perception of time to make out who, or what, it was.

  What I saw was both familiar, confusing, and utterly unexpected.

  My attacker was humanoid in shape. Male. And looked to be a full-grown adult. It was wearing what appeared to be a black martial arts gi on its powerfully muscled body.

  It had pointed, fox-like ears on the sides of its head, and a mouth containing sharp, fanged teeth.

  The back of the neck, arms, and hands of the creature were layered in short, orange fur. The underside of the creature, that being its neck, chest, inner arms, and the palms of its hands, was froggishly green.

  It was, undoubtedly, the Fox-Frog-Monster, but in a new humanoid form, different even from when it had taken over my body.

  The eyes of this Fox-Frog-Humanoid were amber, and froggishly horizontal.

  But the most familiar aspect of this creature was the expression.

  Among all the changes the Fox-Frog-Monster had undergone, its face also contained many of the landmarks of my own. The same angry frown, the same nose shape, and jawline. Unlike my wild head of brown hair, the Fox-Frog-Humanoid’s was bald, as were his eyebrows. It wasn’t the real Burgess, but it was undoubtedly the handsome face I had grown accustomed to ever since I cocooned back at The Shops Pub.

  It was as if the Fox-Frog-Monster and I had combined into a single being.

  And then it clicked.

  Of course.

  I wasn’t just looking at the Fox-Frog-Monster in a humanoid form. It was also Slip. Somehow, for some reason, they had become one.

  The fight, which got underway between the Fox-Frog-Creature and me, was rapid and brutal.

  Little Me, in real time, would have seen the Fox-Frog-Humanoid and me exchanging fists and kicks beneath the bridge. I had been careful to move away from Little Me to make sure he wasn’t caught up between the exchanged blows.

  Every punch or kick of mine proved useless because the Fox-Frog-Humanoid deflected and countered my attacks with frightening ease. I felt the same maddening sense of being utterly unprepared and unable to respond to the fighting techniques of my opponent.

  I didn’t manage to land a single meaningful blow against the Fox-Frog-Humanoid. For a while, I was able to leap my way out of trouble, but soon enough, the blows dealt to my head, body, and limbs were so severe and dealt with such aggression from the Fox-Frog-Humanoid that I was rendered helpless within less than one real-time minute.

  I had to stop my slowed time perception altogether because of the excruciating pain that riddled my body. The latest of the Fox-Frog-Humanoid’s blows had been a kick that had landed at my gut and had sent me hurtling onto my back.

  When I hit the cherry blossom-covered stone path beneath the bridge, I tumbled, came to a stop, and spat out a large mouthful of blood.

  As I fought desperately to get my lungs to start breathing again, I caught sight of Little Me watching on in horror.

  The Fox-Frog-Humanoid loomed over me, blotting out what little light I could see beneath the tunnel, and then I felt a savagely dealt blow to the back of my head.