Starting with Bloody Super Bowl Sunday, Madeline's power grew exponentially after each tragic event. It wasn't long before chaos and anarchy spread across the globe. The year martial law went into effect in the United States, Madeline Blackwell had assumed power and from that point on there was no stopping the machinations of evil.
Madeline sat on a park bench next to the reflecting pool at the National Mall. Four of her bodyguards remained close behind, all the while scanning the area. A huge grin spread across her face as she thought of the famous quote from John F. Kennedy-"One person can make a difference and every person should try." And Madeline Blackwell did make that difference and without having to try very hard. All she did was give humanity a simple push down a path to destruction.
It wasn't a nuclear bomb.
It wasn't a pandemic.
It wasn't a plague.
It wasn't another world war.
It wasn't even global warming or a new ice age.
It was Madeline…one person who made a difference.
"I bet Mr. Kennedy didn't think that it'd be little ol' me who'd make such a dark difference."
Turning to one of her bodyguards, she said with a lecturing tone, "You know, throughout history, there have been events that have…hmm…shall we say culled the population. I'd say humanity is doing a splendid job of helping out the planet by reducing some of the riffraff. It warms my heart to know that the survivors are eager to try something new. And I will give it to them."
She looked over at the bodyguard whom she was having a one-sided conversation with and saw that all four men were gone. She jumped up scanning the field behind her. No one was in sight.
"Yes, you will give them something new," someone behind her said.
Madeline sighed heavily, recognizing the voice. She turned around and extended her hand. "Hello, Mr. Barker. Nice to see you."
Barker ignored the salutation and sat down on the park bench. "You've done a remarkable job bringing our plan to this point. The events that you have orchestrated have demonstrated some astounding numbers. I am very impressed."
"Thank you, Mr. Barker. It is going very well."
After several minutes of silence, Barker leaned closer to Madeline, making her more uncomfortable. "I take it you discovered a bit of a problem emerging."
Madeline wrinkled her brow, trying to portray a questioning facade. "Not sure what you mean."
Barker stood up slowly from the park bench and began to pace in front of Madeline. "Casey…Heckel Casey. I know you are aware of him and you've been tracking him. That's good. It has come to our attention that he could be the…" Barker stopped and tapped his mouth as if he were hoping the right expression could be coaxed out.
"The proverbial fly in the ointment," Madeline said proudly.
"Yes, that's very good, Ms. Blackwell. I like that. At any rate, your attempts to eliminate him need to be ramped up, and that is precisely why I am here." He continued his pacing in silence. With each pass in front of Madeline, she became more visibly irritated.
"The dogs I sent were almost successful. They took out that stupid friend of his. Then that little thunderstorm I brewed almost did in his new little sweetie," she said with a cocky tone.
Barker clapped his hands in anger producing an earsplitting crack of thunder. "Almost! Almost is never good enough. It cannot be a part of your vocabulary. It means failure. Do I make myself clear?" he said standing directly in front of Madeline.
Taken aback by his sudden, vicious change, she didn't respond.
Barker grabbed the side of her head and squeezed. A dim blue luminescence glowed from around his hands. Madeline went completely limp. Her eyes rolled up into their sockets.
When she awoke, it was dark. Her four bodyguards were behind her.
"Son of a bitch," she mumbled, rubbing her temples. "I feel like shit."
"Can we get you anything, Ms. Blackwell?" one of the bodyguards asked.
Madeline didn't respond. She got up and walked to the black stretch limo parked on the street.
The next morning as Madeline lay in bed visualizing her encounter with Barker, she wondered what he meant by ramping up her efforts. And what the hell did he do to my head! Suddenly, her thoughts focused, sharpened as if they were displayed on a gigantic HD flat-screen TV in her head. "More power," she muttered slowly. She knew what Barker had given her. Special tools! Tools to kill. A sneer of disgust and hatred inched its way across her face. "Heckel," she intoned slowly.
The covers flew off the bed. She got up and walked to the window, all the while feeling her new talents coalesce. Dark clouds flashed across the sky. She placed her head against the window, fixating on the storm brewing.
Humming a singsong, childlike melody, Madeline played with the curtain, slowly twisting it as if she were wringing out a wet towel. "Heckel, Heckel…come out and play with me. I've got some new toys to show you."
The demonic little tune she hummed grew louder and louder.