Doctor Connors stands in the doorway staring at the writer. The writer propped up on an array of pillows doesn't look up from the screen, his fingers dance over the keyboard, creating the tension in the room.
"Look at me!" screams the doctor, surprising himself with the sudden outburst.
The writer looks up, his fingers poised over the keys.
"So, You do know who I am?" asks the doctor warily.
The writer says nothing, he simply nods, his fingers still hovering over the keys.
"And you know why I'm here don't you?"
Again the writer nods in reply.
"I'm not even sorry, you deserve this. You can't just interfere with people's lives for your own amusement and expect nothing to come your way."
The writer blinks away the tears building up in the corners of his eyes, too scared to make any sudden moves.
"It's too late for crocodile tears sunshine" says the doctor pulling the revolver out of his pocket, "You got any last words?"
The writer licks his lips and goes to speak but nothing comes out. Frustrated he closes his eyes and lets his fingers take over. Connors looks confused as his mind is flooded with words he can't hear.
I haven't interfered with your life, your life is my creation to use as I see fit. I gave you the gun, I brought you here. You are nothing more than a puppet.
"Stop it!" shouts Connors, pointing the gun at the writers head.
You haven't got the balls.
There is a loud, satisfying CLICK CLICK as Connors cocks the gun.
You're forgetting something doctor or rather someone.
"Am I now? And who or what is that?"
Deus Ex Machina.
"I'll take it from here then" says a voice from the hallway behind the doctor.
The doctor cringes and turns around slowly.
"It was always going to be you wasn't it?"
"'Fraid so" Says the boy with fire in his eyes.
"It wasn't me who killed your parents; it was him, the writer. We are all just pawns in his game" reasons Connors.
"All I know is, you don't belong here anymore." Says Kevin his fists clenched by his side.
The air crackles, the lights flicker and steady thrumming sound builds up.
"Well come one then, do it!" pleads the doctor.
"HADOUKEN!" shouts Kevin as he pushes his hands outwards a brilliant blue ball of pure energy rushes from him and engulfs the doctor.
The fire in Kevin's eyes dies out. He looks at the pile of ash that was Doctor Connors then to the writer.
"You're going to let them win one day aren't you?" asks Kevin accusingly.