Free Intentional Dissonance by pleasefindthis, Iain S. Thomas

softly to himself.
    “Stop being such a pussy,” he says out aloud and only to himself.
    He thinks of how strong and confident the characters in his comic books are.
    Suddenly, bright light fills the room. He can tell because the backs of his eyes turn red and he thinks someone’s heard him, mom or dad, and they’ve turned the bedroom light on but this is brighter than the bedroom light.
    This is brighter than daylight.
    Jon can feel the air becoming thinner and there’s less of it than there was seconds before. Jon can sense something behind him, something eating the shadows around him. He turns his head slowly and very carefully, he opens his eyes. It’s hard to focus on at first but a being, a creature made of pure white light is now in the room with Jon. Jon’s eyes are as open as they’ll ever be and all the air has left his lungs, burnt up by the light. There’s so much of it. They must be able to see this light out in space. As his brain finally catches up with what’s happening, he tries to open his mouth to scream but he can’t. He’s frozen in place. The being is holding a lance made of pure, white light and has muscles twice the size of its head. It’s every comic book hero Jon has ever read about, ever dreamed, on fire, all at once. The being opens its mouth; flames lick its lips and dance across what looks like ancient armour.
    “It’s all going to be ok,” it says.
    Jon, finally, manages to close his eyes and yell, scream, make some kind of guttural sound and as he does, the being disappears. There’s a giant ‘whoomp’ noise, like the biggest candle in the world has just been blown out. The lights go on in the house.
    The bedroom door bursts open. Jon’s father stands in the doorway with the gun he normally keeps in the safe. Jon is on the floor. His knuckles are bleeding from where he’s punched the wall. His face is ashen and his eyes are red. Jon’s father kneels down next to him and grabs him by the shoulders.
    “What’s wrong? What happened?” says Jon’s father.
    “Da-dad,” says Jon.
    “What happened?” repeats his father, scanning the room desperately with his eyes, looking for whomever or whatever attacked his son.
    “There was…there was something,” says Jon.
    “What?”
    “I—I don’t know.”
    “What did you see?”
    “I saw…I saw a man made of light.”
    Jon’s father’s eyes betray too much. He’s taking this seriously. Jon does not expect that. Jon believes one of them may have gone insane. Perhaps both of them. Perhaps this is a dream.
    “Were you thinking about him before you saw him?”
    “Not him in particular, comic books, The Black Kracken. ” Jon’s father nods at this.
    “Where were you tonight? Were you with a girl? I heard girls’ voices outside your bedroom window earlier, Jon, don’t lie to me.”
    “I—I…yes,” says Jon.
    Jon’s father sighs. He holds Jon. Jon’s brain is on fire. He holds him tighter.
    “So, it’s genetic then and it’s happening to you, too,” says Jon’s father under his breath.
    “What do you mean?”
    “This is hard to explain, but I started to see similar things when I was a child.”
    “That doesn’t make any sense.”
    “The first thing you should know is that what gives it power, is what you think of. You need to be careful of what you think of.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I think of the things that protect you. I think of the oak tree outside and your space ninjas from that comic book you bury your head in.”
    “They’re space pirates, Dad, not ninjas.”
    “It doesn’t matter, what matters is that I think of the things that protect you and as you get older, that will become more and more important.”
    “This is crazy.”
    “I need you to trust me and go to sleep.”
    “Go to sleep? Go to fucking sleep?” asks Jon. Jon doesn’t believe he will ever be able to sleep again.
    “I’m letting you use that language with me because you’re in shock. Now pay attention, I can