"Stand down, drop your weapon!" A cop aimed a gun at his head, ready to kill him on the spot.

He raises my hands in surrender, and gives her a charming smile.

He takes a step toward her and sure enough, she takes one back.

Delicious.

He takes another, and another and she follows suit backwards. "Sir, you need to stop."

"Call me Steven," He calls out. "That's what all my friends call me."

"Steven!" A familiar voice heightens his awareness.

Garnet is standing not ten feet behind him, pleading with him now. "Steven, it doesn't have to be like this!"

His smile never falters, but he catches her eye in his peripheral.

"Steven, I know you're angry–!"

"Oh I'm far past angry." He laughs, letting that maniacle feeling out in a sound that makes the cops hand start shaking.

He summons a blade, one he made out of pure light and drops his hands.

"Drop your weapon!" She speaks into her walkie talkie. "11-99, I need back up! Now!"

He hadn't ceased his walking, but now felt the air thicken as things slowed down around him. Birds, the waves, the officer all now moved at 1/100 his speed.

He thought about plunging the knife into her, but decided on a much messier plan. "Bring your friends. Bring all of them."

He was now face to face with the woman, her expression changed a fraction and he took one of her black tresses between his fingers. "Soft. I'll bet you use baby soap though, I can tell you've showered today but you just aren't doing your hair any favors by not stripping the oils off with the correct shampoo. Shameful."

The world snapped back to life and the officer pointed the gun directly at his face.

"Drop. Your weapon." She sounded terrified. He wondered if it was her first time patrolling alone, he'd never seen her that was for sure.

"I am a weapon."

She gasped as his skin turned pink and he grew much taller.

She pulled the trigger.

He looked down at the scuff mark on his shirt and sighed. He would have to get this dry cleaned now.

The bullet had merely glanced off of his chest and back into her. He watched mercilessly as she grabbed at her stomach.

"That was a very poor decision," He chided.

She dropped her gun and staggered to the ground, clutching her profusely bleeding wound.

Sirens were loud all around him, closing in from all sides and he wanted to holler with delight.

What a perfect battleground.

Garnet was gone now, he barely cared. She wouldn't want to see this.

They fled their cars, 20 officers complete with his very own SWAT team.

Some knelt to give others room to shoot, others took the front lines, some even spewing reports to the headquarters.

"None of you will survive," He told them.

"Steven, that's your name right?" A man stepped forward with a shield held in front of him. "Listen, we just want to talk–."

Before he could get another word out,
Stevens blade shot forward clean through the shield.

Everyone opened fire.

A glint in his eye became a smirk as every bullet bounced off in every direction, some getting headshots and others just barely catching a victim.

"I guess some of you survived." He could give credit where it was due.

The remaining officers called for ambulances, some even starting to cry.

He turned around and approached the first woman, who's face was starting to get pale.

She looked up at him helplessly, her eyes pleading for him to kill her.

He stuck a finger in his mouth and healed her, watching as the color flowed back into her.

"Consider yourself lucky." He helped her up and dusted off her outfit, shaking his head at the crimson that came off on his hands. "I only kept you alive so you could tell my story."