Chapter Text
Taylor Hebert was not having a good day. In fact this day was probably one of the worst days in her life. For one thing, she was drowning in garbage. Being stuffed in her own locker with human biological waste surrounding her was, as one would expect, not a comfortable experience. Despite it being winter, it was hot and cramped inside, which made sense considering it was a school locker. How Sophia had managed to trap Taylor’s six foot tall body here was a miracle in itself. Am I really that scrawny that I can fit in here? she thought in between her fits of panic and dread.
It didn’t help that the locker was so tight she couldn’t even move her arms inside. If Taylor had the room she knew she’d be able to pound on the door hard enough to bust through. In her desperation she had made dents in the steel with her fingers, clawing at a way to get out.
“Help!” she yelled halfheartedly. She had been yelling, screaming for the better part of the hour, but nothing happened. Taylor knew they could hear her. She could see them react to her cries through the small gaps in the locker, but no one offered aid. It had been an hour and not a single student did anything. No one got a janitor or teacher. No one even jeered at her. They just ignored her like she was trash, something in the background to not take notice of.
Why? Taylor thought to herself. What did I ever do to them? It’s not fair. She pictured the three girls who had made it a mission to make her life a living hell. Madison, the follower with the pretty brown hair, just going along with whatever her two torturers wanted to do. Was it really that easy to just endlessly humiliate others as long as you got to laugh with your “friends”?
Then there was Sophia. That bitch who had some fucked up vendetta against her. She was the violent one. Taylor would’ve been able to handle insults, she had grown numb to them. Words could be ignored, they would fade, no matter how much they hurt right now. But Sophia was the one that made sure she couldn’t run away. She was the one who encouraged others to humiliate her, play pranks on her. Taylor still remembered that manic sneer Sophia had when she pushed her into the bio-hazardous locker, like she had been waiting all of winter vacation to lock her in here.
Taylor couldn’t imagine the hate, the spite, and the gall it took to get a bunch of girls to grab used pads, fill her locker with them to the point that they smeared and lined the human waste against the insides of the locker, letting it decay and rot for two weeks, and then trapping her in said cage. This was a level of hate that was reserved for the worst people in the world. What did she do to earn that bitch’s ire?
Then there was Emma the traitor. She, who was her childhood friend, had grown to despise her. While Taylor was at summer camp before high school, Emma had become fast friends with Sophia, and ignored their eight years of friendship. That would've been fine enough (and it wasn’t, it hurt really badly to lose the one friend you trusted everything with), but then she joined Sophia in her torment.
When she was initially pushed into the locker, she still had hoped Emma would’ve rescued her, but then Taylor saw Emma had the same evil smile Sophia had. Emma actually watched with glee as her new best friend pushed her former childhood friend into the cage of garbage. The other students in the hall had joined, all of them laughed at seeing the three popular girls punish a nerd. Others just ignored her cries and pleas for help. No one came to the rescue.
Oh God, am I gonna die in here? Taylor came to the realization. Was she really going to die breathing this hot fetid air, covered head to toe in the grime of used pads and god knows whatever else? “No , please,” she whispered instead of yelling, as if praying for a miracle. Her voice had gone hoarse from the yelling. It wasn’t like if she yelled more someone would come help. I can’t die in here. Please someone, anyone, help!
And then Taylor felt the strangest sensation. She was falling but it was within her mind. No she wasn’t falling… Her mind was expanding and she was becoming a smaller part of it. It was like living in a small room your entire life and discovering a hidden door that led to a mansion. Was she hallucinating? Had she suffered some sort of mental break? That part of Taylor’s mind that was “her” was in that small room and the mansion was something else. What was that something else?
Then she heard it. A sound like wind rushing, thunder roaring. Wait no, Taylor thought, it’s not thunder, it’s a—
BWAHAHAHA!
What? What’s that laugh?
WHERE AM I? an old man boisterously asked. Taylor didn’t know how she knew this voice was an old man, but it was. What kind of rotten little coffin is this? It smells worse than the inside of a sea king’s stomach.
Who–
Brat, are you alive?
Am I hallucinating?
Wrong answer! Try again. Are you alive?
Yes?
Good! Now where are we?
We’re in a locker.
Why are we in here?
Someone stuffed me in here!
I see, the old man said, and he meant that literally. Taylor could feel the man was seeing through her eyes. What is going on? she thought. Who are you?
Monkey D. Garp, Vice Admiral of the Marines. You?
Taylor Hebert… High schooler she responded, as if she didn't hear the most ridiculous thing ever said with a straight face.
High schooler? What's that? Never mind, Garp responded. How did I get here?
I don't know. Where did you even come from? You came here, Taylor responded. This has to be a hallucination.
Not a hallucination, Garp said. Who put you in here?
At that question memories arose. Taylor couldn’t help but picture the trio. Sophia’s sadistic smirk as she pushed her into the locker, Madison’s laughter cheering Sophia on, Emma’s smirk and her proud eyes. Emma was her friend, her best friend since first grade, and the look she gave her as she was pushed into the locker was one of disgust, like she was a worthless piece of trash.
Rotten children, Garp growled. They haven’t been given a proper education.
You saw that?!
Was I not supposed to?
No!
Couldn’t help it, he laughed, a sound akin to that of rumbling thunder. Let’s get out of here.
I can’t, I’m stuck. Taylor made an attempt at moving her arms to point to her dilemma.
Then move aside.
I can’t. Didn’t you hear me?
Then allow me. It was a push, that was the only way she could describe it. Taylor felt a force as she was shoved aside, feeling weightlessness. The alien entity, the old man, took control of her body. He flexed her fingers into a fist, saw through her eyes, felt through her skin, and moved her arms and legs. What are you doing?! How are you doing this? Let go of my body!
Hmm this body is weak, Garp said, ignoring her questions. It needs meat and discipline. Brat, no wonder others bully you. You’ve got to be stronger than this.
I’m not weak! Taylor said, slightly offended.
Then let me show you what true strength is.
Taylor could feel some sort of energy wrap around her frame. A small heavy presence settled around her, like she was wearing weighted armor. Garp pushed her elbows to the sides of the locker. It should have hurt, but the steel gave way and bent around her arms. What the fuck?
Hmm poor steel, horrible workmanship. This steel is too weak, Garp laughed as he traced the locker with his hand, feeling the dimensions of the door. If they’re going to put you in this horrible smelling casket, they could at least buy a decent one!
What?
Now that he had enough space, Garp raised his arm back, hand curling into a fist. The same presence that Taylor felt around her body concentrated on her right hand. Upon further inspection, even in the dark, she could see her fist was covered in gleaming black coating with small purple sparks arcing from it. Was this iron?
It was fifth period and lunch time at Winslow High. This was the time most of the students were either in the cafeteria or their classrooms. Even so, some were still in the hall around Taylor’s locker. Unfortunately they bore witness to Taylor’s locker exploding with the force of a bullet.
“Fuck-” a boy swore, drowned out by the screams and yells of other students.
“Holy shit!” a girl shouted.
The locker door hit the opposite wall, the impact resulting in paint chipping off. As the door clattered to the ground, the students saw the stuff of nightmares.
Out of the locker climbed a girl covered head to toe in grime. Her hair hung in wet, disgusting ropes. Her grey sweatshirt and blue jeans were completely ruined, marred by whatever was in that locker. Her shoes made a soft awful sound when she stepped. What was even worse was that she stank like she had woken up from a garbage dump. The most off putting thing was that smile. The smile of a maniac.
“AH FRESH AIR!!” the old man yelled out loud in Taylor’s voice. Oh God, did I lose it? Taylor panicked. What the fuck are you doing?
“Breathing,” he said, ignoring her lungs burning as he took deep breaths of the relatively clean air. He looked down at Taylor’s wet shoes, scrunched his nose in disgust, and tossed them aside. “Ah that’s much better!” he said his arms to his hips, completely barefoot.
Stop talking to yourself! Taylor screamed internally. Get out of here right now! But it was already too late as the hallway went silent.
Dozens of students stared, some took out their phones to record her, and even though she could hear them whispering her name, no one laughed. The reactions, of course, were plain to see. The shock, the fear, the revulsion, excitement, and ridicule spread throughout the masses around her. But Garp ignored all of it.
Oh God, I can’t show my face around here, Taylor cried trying to take back control but failing. It was like trying to catch rising smoke with your bare hands. Please, we’ve got to get out of here. Everyone will think I’m a freak.
“Where are they?”
Taylor’s heart lurched. No.
“Yes.”
No, no, no. We can’t face them now. We need to get cleaned up. We need to get away–
“They put you in a death box,” Garp grumbled walking down the hallway. “First Rule of Justice: Justice must be swift.”
Rule of justice?
“Where are they?” Garp asked.
I don’t know, she lied.
“You don’t know, do you?” he laughed in Taylor’s voice. Even now students in the hallway looked at her, gawking at how she was just talking to herself.
“Did Taylor lose her mind?” Taylor’s history classmate whispered.
“She must have,” a boy responded. “They pushed it too far.”
“Quiet!” Garp yelled to everyone in the hallway. His voice echoed out, spreading far and wide. Normally, this was where everyone would’ve started to laugh and jeer at her but a shadow fell over the hallway. The students went silent as a certain weight fell on their chests. They couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
There was an intimidating presence that the students couldn’t see but could tell it was there. It was like the air itself had gained sentience and was now harshly judging everyone present. More than one child would later describe it to the PRT as if they were in front of a tiger, too afraid to move, lest they attract its attention.
What did you do to them? Taylor asked, flabbergasted at the students who stood completely still, fear plain to see on their face.
“Nothing, I told them to be quiet.”
Are you a master?
“What’s that, brat?” Garp mused. “Nevermind, tell me later.”
No! They’re filming! If you’re a parahuman—
“Shh!” he said, ignoring her. “I need to hear.”
Hear what? She yelled.
He turned his head slowly, scanning the hallway. It was through that turning that Taylor felt something spread through her awareness. It wasn’t any sense she had experienced before. She felt intent. She felt the intent of her fellow students around her. She didn’t need eyes to see that everyone was afraid and curious of her. But then the awareness spread even further, past the hallway and into the classrooms, the gym, the multiple floors. He’s looking for them.
When the circle of awareness had increased to a radius of fifty meters, she recognized a cluster. In the noise of the mass of humanity that was in the cafeteria, there was a familiar set of emotions. Sophia’s sadistic glee, Madison’s nervous guilt, and Emma’s rotten confidence.
“Found them,” he said.
How?
“Observation haki. There’s a little bit of it in you. We just need to train it.”
What does that even mean? Taylor asked, another question to add to her growing list. Wait where are you going?
He didn’t answer, choosing instead to walk down the hall. Normally Taylor would have slinked past the crowd of students, going around them if they were in her way. Today they scattered before her. Some because she smelled like a walking dumpster. Most out of a self-preservation instinct, especially when they saw the gleam in her eyes.
“Hey, Taylor, what’s going on?” Mr. Gladly, her history teacher asked,
Garp didn’t slow down. The teacher took one look at Taylor and decidedly stepped back into the classroom.
Soon they reached the corridor leading toward the cafeteria, despite Taylor’s attempts to seize control or desperate pleas. She could hear the lunch noise now. The squeaks of the sneakers on the cafeteria floor, the excited chatter between hundreds of students, the screams and laughter from the tables. It was the ordinary sound of a school day continuing as if she hadn’t been rotting in a locker thirty seconds ago. Behind her appeared the same group of students that had just been paralyzed by fear in the hallway. Apparently the drama that was about to happen was worth the danger she posed. Fucking vultures.
He was about to enter the cafeteria doors ahead when he paused, a thought had come to mind. Taylor didn’t know how, perhaps because they were two minds in one body, but she saw the thought. Where before her heart had lurched, it now skipped a beat. Don’t you fucking dare! Taylor screamed.
“Bwahaha!” he laughed walking to the left of the cafeteria doors
Is that even possible? You can’t do that, can you? She thought hysterically.
“Let’s find out.”
We don’t need to do this. We can just walk through the doors!
“Taylor,” a boy among the crowd called out. He had his cellphone out ready to record the potential confrontation. “Are you not going in–”
“Second Rule of Justice!” Garp yelled, standing before a solid wall. She felt Garp use that observation haki of his to inspect it. She could tell where the layer of drywall was, how the bricks were laid, where the pipes started and ended, and most importantly, that there were no people on the other side. “Dramatic entrances matter.”
This is a school!
“Then they need education!” And with that declaration, Taylor’s fist turned solid black, glimmering in the light for all to see.
“She’s a cape!” a girl yelled.
“Oh shit’s about to go down,” another laughed, not believing his luck.
Garp drew back her first. Taylor screamed like a banshee. Garp laughed like a mad man.
He punched through the cafeteria wall and suddenly there was no wall anymore. The explosion turned inward as the brick, plaster, dust, and broken tile blasted across the cafeteria floor in a rolling wave. The impact boomed through Winslow like a car bomb. Tables rattled, some were even pushed a little by the debris. The lunch trays jumped, milk cartons burst, and the students screamed and dove away from the potential shrapnel.
Where there once had been a wall, a jagged hole appeared, hidden by the billowing dust. For a single beat, no one could see anything. But then a shadow appeared. Taylor Hebert walked through the cloud, a mad grin on her face, covered head to toe in grime and filth, a right fist as dark as midnight.
No one moved, no one spoke, no one even took a breath. Everyone in the cafeteria, from the jocks, the E88 initiates, the rookie AZN boys, the nerds, the popular kids, and the outcasts just stared at the crazy girl who had punched through the cafeteria wall. Was this some sort of attack? Some new parahuman making themself known? But if so, why not wear a mask? It was only a few seconds after the shock was starting to wear off that a couple of students recognized this new “parahuman”.
Wait isn’t that… some thought before they were interrupted.
Garp took in a breath, his chest expanding slightly, arms to her hips, “MY NAME IS MONKEY D. GARP,” he bellowed.
Oh God, please kill me. Taylor wished she could just curl herself into a ball and disappear. What the fuck is my life?
“VICE ADMIRAL OF THE MARINES, ENEMY TO PIRATES, ALLY TO THE INNOCENT,” he said moving towards the center of the cafeteria, many eyes tracking his route. “Now that introductions are out of the way, where are Sopia Hess, Madison Clements, Emma Barnes?”
No one turned, some too shocked by the turn of events, others out of defiance. A couple even tried to protect the three by giving no reaction. All things that Garp picked up on. No matter, he thought.
“What the hell are you?” someone in the back crowd yelled.
Others were about to join in on the jeering, even laughing at the sight, but then Garp took a step forward.
The pressure slipped. The cafeteria air became heavy, every person in the room felt it. It was as if gravity had increased. They could feel a weight behind their eyes, a strain in their chests. A primitive instinct, a sixth sense hitherto the student had never known, activated and flooded their brain, kicking off their flight or fight drive. Everything was signaling in their bodies to run, to move, but they were stunned like deer in headlights.
The weak dropped first. A freshman near the broken vending machines fainted into his lunch tray. Two students near the broken wall collapsed against each other. A girl holding up her phone lowered it with shaking hands, then sat down hard. Even one of the cafeteria monitors far from the action, on the other side of the room, made a small strangled sound and slid down the wall.
Stop! You’re making people faint, Taylor yelled.
They need stronger spirits.
They’re high schoolers.
Then this school is full of weak high schoolers. As if to prove his point, five more students behind Garp fell to the floor, thuds echoing in the silent lunch room.
The pressure eased slightly and the masses of students were relieved, thankful enough to take a breath they didn’t know they were holding. Thankful until Garp spoke again.
“Where are they?”
As one, everyone in the cafeteria turned toward the popular table, where the three had been sitting in shocked silence, trying to hide from the impending doom. Garp smiled and marched right towards them, each step causing everyone to flinch, especially his three targets.
Madison had both hands over her mouth, eyes wide in despair, tears starting to form in her eyes. Emma’s face had blanched white. This can’t be real, this can’t be real! She repeated to herself, as if the mantra alone would wake her up from this nightmare. Sophia was too stunned to think, her brain not able to compute the situation before her.
“Found you,” Garp said, standing at the head of the table.
Emma recovered first because Emma always recovered first. Her mouth trembled, but she summoned the will to harden it into the shape of concern.
“Taylor,” she said, voice pitching upward for the room, “you need help.”
He looked at Emma, the young redhead. Taylor didn’t know how, but she could feel him read her. She could feel Emma’s fear hiding behind the performance she put on, the anger behind that fear, and the cold calculations she was running to manipulate her way out of the confrontation. Taylor didn’t need Garp to know how much of a snake Emma was, but it was nice to know he confirmed her priors.
Garp frowned and turned to Madison and saw the panic and cowardice inside her. There was a deeper layer of guilt that she didn’t want to face. Upon seeing Taylor’s state that guilt was increasing rapidly.
And then there was Sophia. If Emma’s anger were a house fire, Sophia’s was a wildfire, a raging inferno with an undercurrent of pride. She hated Taylor with a passion, almost to a homicidal degree, which came as a surprise to Taylor. Fuck did I do to her? she thought.
Interesting.
What?
There’s something else in there, Garp commented.
Something else? Wh-”
Sophia stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor, interrupting the inner conversation.
“Back off, Hebert,” she said, locking eyes with her. Her voice was steady but Taylor, through Garp’s haki, could tell she was scared.
Garp’s smile widened, “You.”
Sophia’s jaw tightened. “Me.”
He leaned forward. “You put the brat in the locker.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
Emma snapped. “Taylor, stop this,” she said loudly, “you’re embarrassing yourself.”
Garp didn’t even turn towards her. Instead something pulsed and Emma went silent. Her lips remained parted around the next word, but nothing came out. The pressure was small and controlled but much denser than before. As it spread throughout the cafeteria, a dozen more students fainted. All around the silent room there were sounds of heads hitting tables and trays clattering to the floor.
Stop it! Taylor yelled.
Garp was about to reply but Sophia took the initiative. She lunged over the table, her fist moving swiftly toward his face, but he caught it.
Taylor’s palm closed around Sophia’s fist and she stopped dead. Her eyes went wide as Garp squeezed her hand, the force nothing like she felt before. The pain radiated from her fist and up her arm. Sophia tried to pull her hand but he wouldn’t let go.
“Oy, brat!” Garp smirked. “Your punch needs practice.” He gave a laugh then flicked her forehead.
Sophia flew.
She cleared the table, crashed through a series of trays and drinks, hit the floor on her back, and slid until she slammed into the wall. Her head tilted forward, the wind knocked out of her.
You can’t do that! Taylor said horrified. Taylor was also, in a tiny locked room of her soul she would never admit existed, delighted. This would be a memory she’d always revisit.
Garp ignored her as he turned toward Madison. She started crying before he spoke, tears streaming down her round face.
“You.”
Madison squealed.
“Did you put the brat in the locker?”
“It was just supposed to scare her,” she whimpered. “We didn’t think–”
“Madison!” Emma yelled, fighting through Garp’s slight pressure. “Shut up!”
He reached across the table. Madison flinched so hard she nearly fell backward. Garp picked up her remaining chocolate milk and poured it over head. The milk ran down her hair and face as she turned into a full sobbing mess.
“Consequences.”
Then Garp turned towards Emma.
Emma Barnes had stepped back till her legs hit the bench behind her. Her face one of pure fear. “Taylor, don't do this. My Dad will sue you into the ground.”
As if the words had given her some encouragement, she stood straight. “Let me go and we can end this. We can both forget everything that happened here. How does that sound?”
Garp paused as he looked at Emma, considering her words, studying her sincerity. Madison stepped away from the confrontation shivering in both terror and rage. Sophia was trying to stand back up but her legs refused to move.
Taylor admitted it sounded like a good deal. After all, she had already broken through a school wall, had used what seemed to be master powers on her fellow students, sent Sophia flying, and assaulted Madison. A lawsuit from one of the best lawyers in Brockton Bay was the last thing she needed.
Garp, I think we should stop.
No.
What–
Garp walked toward Emma, his face as serious as a heart attack.
“Don’t touch me Taylor!” Emma screamed but Garp ignored her. “Don’t do this!”
Garp stop!
“Third Rule of Justice, brat!” Garp said out loud for the bewildered cafeteria to hear. With his right hand, he grabbed Emma by the collar, the sweater stretching as he lifted her up with one hand.
“Put me down! I’ll give you anything!” Emma started crying, but he ignored her all the same as he walked back to the center of the cafeteria. The insincere pleas of villains were deaf to his ears.
“We’ll leave you alone! We won’t bother you anymore,” Emma yelled for everyone to hear. “I’m sorry for putting you in that locker! Just don’t hurt me!”
Hundreds of dumbstruck eyes followed Garp as Emma dangled from his outstretched right fist, her hands wrapped around his arm. In the center was a large garbage can with a lid, akin to the ones seen on suburban sidewalks.
“Whenever possible,” Garp growled, thinking of the past. He lifted the lid from the trash can to reveal the day’s food waste: stacks of box pizza, crumbled paper towels, spilled milk, and an assortment of lettuce, apples, mozzarella sticks, and chicken pieces. “JUSTICE MUST NEVER BE BOUGHT!”
“Please no! Wait!” she pleaded just as he dropped her into the trash bin before the horrified audience, drawing a gasp. Garp closed the lid, tipped the bin over, and kicked it with such force that it slid until it reached the cafeteria entrance.
Emma crawled out of the trash can bawling and screaming hysterically. Her blue sweater was stained with milk, her hair was matted with cheese, and clumps of wet paper towels clung to her body.
“Did I say you could leave?” Garp said quietly.
“What?” she whispered.
What? Taylor asked, appalled.
The pressure in the room doubled forcing everyone to fall to their knees. Those unfortunate few, which was half actually, fell unconscious while others struggled to lift their heads. While before it felt like there was a ton on their chest, now it felt like they were being trapped underneath a mountain and there was no hope of escape.
For Emma, it looked like the world had disappeared. There was nothing else but her and the monster that was Taylor. Nothing else mattered. The only thought that entered her mind was to run, but she couldn’t. She was rooted to the floor.
“Did I say you could leave?”
The student body watched Emma, the most popular student in school, the one that most boys would vie for the attention of, the one that was on track to becoming a model, scamper into the trash bin like it was a lifeline. She’d do anything to escape the monster’s gaze, much less run to the safety of the trash bin.
“What the hell's going on here?” Principal Blackwell yelled, throwing the doors of the cafeteria open. Behind her were several teachers including Mr. Gladly and two school resource officers. “Tay–” Blackwell was about to say before she got a look around the room. She had already heard about the large hole in the wall as several students and Mr. Gladly ran to inform her. But seeing the impact of the explosion was something else.
And now she saw things had… escalated. Taylor was covered in God knows what, but it was enough to make her gag. Half the students had fallen to the floor, slackjawed and unconscious, including Madison in the far corner. Sophia, the secret parahuman, was pushed against the floor struggling to get up, and then there was Emma who looked like she fought a war against a trash can and was emotionally affected by the loss.
“What?” Blackwell asked, speaking for everyone who had just entered.
Garp turned toward the woman, giving a manic grin that didn’t belong on Taylor’s face. “And who might you be?”
Taylor didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or die of shock and secondhand embarrassment. What the fuck is my life?
Today was supposed to be the worst day of Taylor Hebert’s life. Now it was the most unusual. So far.
Somewhere, Somewhen
It had started as a mild headache. Something he could have just easily ignored. But as the night progressed the strain increased. Painkillers didn’t help. Had he been poisoned? He had countless enemies gunning after him and his band. But he hadn’t met anyone else besides his team today.
Had one of them betrayed him? It wouldn’t be the first time. Hell, he got his start by killing the previous leader. But who? None of them had the motive or strength to kill him.
He rushed to the motel bathroom, turned the light on, and saw his pale face in the mirror. He was sweating heavily, his shirt soaked completely through. His mouth formed into a grin that he couldn’t control.
He tried fighting it, forcing his muscles to form a frown, but whatever was controlling his body wouldn’t let go. And then the pressure increased exponentially.
Where before it was a headache, it had blown past a migraine, and now felt like a nail was being driven into his head. The pain was unbearable. He felt his mind grow in size rapidly, as if it was swallowing information at a breakneck pace. Am I dying?
Jacob Black tried fighting back, pushing back against this alien entity that was consuming him. He could feel his memories disappearing one by one, each loss driving him to fight harder. Eventually, the flood of information entering his mind slowed down to a trickle before coming to a complete stop.
Is it over? Jacob questioned before sighing in relief. I survived.
FUFFUFFUFFUFFUFFU! A voice laughed in response to that thought. I wouldn’t be too sure about that.
It had been a trap to let his guard down. The flood of information now had turned into a deluge. Jacob could feel himself losing his mind. It was like the walls of his mind were turning in on themselves, crushing him to death. He even felt himself lose his powers. Whatever structure gave him his powers had been cut off, discarded as if it didn’t matter. Jacob was losing everything about himself.
He tried one desperate last stand. One large push against this alien being that had taken over his mind, but it was futile. With a final pained scream he was gone.
Jacob Black, Jack Slash, was no more. He would never share a mind with such a degenerate. With a villainous grin to himself in the mirror, he smiled in acknowledgment. He knew who he was. “FUFFUFFUFFU!!” Don Quixote Doflamingo.