Daaen (day-en) Allen was never the most popular kid in school. It wasn't that he was too smart or too dumb. He just made some people feel a little uneasy. He didn't speak much and always seemed to be watching things happen. Nobody saw him in their churches, he didn't play football. He showed up to watch the wrestling matches, but never seemed to be cheering for anyone. It was as if he was concerned with a different life. Still, he was there when kids got into a scrap after school-watching. Daaen was a big guy too. For someone who didn't play school sports, he had the body of a powerful athlete. Some kids would place bets as to whether or not he would ever get involved in a fight-who would he help? Such concerns went on without answer however, and Daaen graduated and vanished into the world.

The next time anyone recognized him was years later. Rampage Pro-Wrestling was in town, and a wrestler named "Great Dane" Dane Allen was on the card. A few of the people with whom he had attended school recognized him as the big, muscle-bound guy in the ring getting his ass handed to him by the number one contender. It appeared that Daaen had gotten his start in pro-wrestling as a jobber. Subsequent appearances by the "Great Dane" mirrored his debut success, and it seemed that Daaen had a real talent in getting beat up. The others who knew him were floored. How could this guy who never found himself in a fight because of his size and intimidation be so inept as to lose at pro-wrestling? Then it happened. The "Great Dane" had been taking his medicine all night.

The Crusher pounded, stretched, and otherwise pummeled Daaen about as bad as one could be beaten. There was something odd, though. The more punishment he took, the more jumpy and twitchy he got. He looked like he was being tormented by jolts of electricity that came from inside him. When the Crusher had him locked down in a sleeper hold on the mat, Daaen was vibrating the way diabetic does when he's run himself low on sugar and is about to go into shock. The moment must have been unscripted because the look on the referee's face was one of total shock. "Great Dane" Dane Allen managed to throw an elbow back into the ribs of the Crusher with such force that the resulting crack could not be mistaken for anything but the sound of a rib shattering. The Crusher released his hold and staggered back, gasping for breath. Daaen unloaded on his opponent with an absolute fury of slams and pounds, the impact of which was somehow unnatural. There was an impact to the air that accompanied every blow, as though the air itself were assisting Daaen in his revenge. Then almost as quickly as it started, it was over. The Crusher collapsed, the ref slithered out of the ring and Daaen Allen, the kid nobody really knew was left standing in the ring like a lightening rod which had just diverted the finger of God. "Dude, that was like f-ing feedback or something" some kid blurted out. From there, the chant of "Feedback" began (partly because of what was said, but mostly because nobody remembered the name of the loser turned hero in the ring). The chant was short lived though, as the police escorted Daaen out of the building in cuffs to be charged for assault. Even though he wasn't supposed to win and the Crusher would probably never wrestle again, the crowd felt something for their new hero, and the name Feedback would not be forgotten soon.

Following a night of frustration for all parties involved, Feedback was released without further incident from the police lock up. As it turned out, the Crusher had signed a waiver absolving anyone of responsibility for injury sustained in the ring. Legally, that included Daaen, and it was a sunlit street onto which he was tossed more or less by the cops who were justifiably angered at the waste of time. To make matters worse, Daaen wasn’t given the opportunity to change before
he was hauled off to jail. He was sweaty from his match with the Crusher and felt very much in need of a shower. Not actually having a place to call his own, he set off in the direction of the arena. Everything he owned was in the dressing room locker he had used the night before—and that didn’t amount to much more than a change of clothes and a membership card for the local YMCA. Still, when that’s all a body owns, the desire to hang onto it is pretty strong. Traffic was fairly slow at six in the morning. Only a few cars passed close enough for their drivers to get a good look at the guy in lycra as he walked calmly in the direction of the sport-a-torium. Those who did see had not the time nor desire to stop and gawk, though—a fact for which Daaen was grateful. The blue and yellow spandex shit and tights he wore were perfect for the ring, but did make one feel a little silly outside of the arena. In less than an hour, Daaen had made it to the dressing room. To his great surprise, there was an envelope containing $250 and a note from the commissioner of the wrestling federation. The note was short and to the point:

Kid,
I don’t remember giving you permission
to alter the script, but the fans
seemed to like what they saw. Crusher’s
out of business and you’re taking
his place. The money’s your cut from
last night. Your next match is in two
weeks. You’re fighting as “Feedback,”
the name the fans picked up for you.
Get used to it. The way I see it is you
owe me big and I intend to make my
fair share off this too.



Feedback…He liked the sound of that. Still the idea of this wrestling thing turning into a career was hardly what he expected. Daaen stuffed the cash into the pocket of his jeans and got himself cleaned and changed. $250 was a lot of money to a guy who slept at the YMCA, and considering the night he had, there was only one place to spend his earnings—Barry’s Burger Barn!

It had been a couple of days since Daaen had eaten. One didn’t often get the chance to eat when one had no money. And as it turned out, Daaen was about as broke as he could be. He wasn’t a bum, though. Well, not
really…Ok, maybe he was one, but he at least had a place to sleep and took the time to keep himself nice—if you call a ratty t-shirt that was worn so thin that you could almost see through it and a pair of jeans with a hole in
the knees keeping yourself nice. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to get employment. He had worked a number of jobs, though none lasted more than a week or two. For some reason though, managers didn’t hang onto
employees who claimed they were late because of alien abductions. But that was the truth of what happened. Every few weeks or so, for as long as he could remember, Daaen had been abducted by aliens. Some of the time, he
didn’t remember the encounters. They were simply lost time to him, but nonetheless, he knew that he’d been taken more than once in his life. He also knew that they had put something inside of him—something that couldn’t be removed. It was this something that was awakened last night at the wrestling show. He could feel it getting stronger the more he was slammed around. The Crusher was known for being exceptionally rough with guys.
Maybe it was that roughness that did it, who can say? Whatever the case though, the item inside him was activated—for lack of a better word. Daaen could feel it getting stronger. It was as if the thing were a battery that was getting charged. At one point, the battery became full. Every time the crusher pounded Daaen, he felt the battery reject the charge—rather painfully. It wasn’t until he was in danger of passing out that the thing
took over. Like floodgates that needed release, the battery discharged through him, and Daaen found his punches to be much more powerful, driven as they were by the power of the alien battery inside him.

Now most people would run to a doctor to get rid of the implanted device, but a number of factors kept Daaen from doing just that. For one, he had no medical insurance. He had never needed it. The aliens, as close as he could figure, needed him for something. They kept him in good health. At times when he was sick, or when he fell off of the roof of a friend’s house while trying to install a dish, the aliens would come. No matter how bad a condition he was in when he lost time, he found himself whole again when he next regained consciousness, as though the injury or illness were only a dream. Additionally, there was the matter of the removal of the object.
Since the aliens put it there, it would only stand to reason that they would prevent it’s removal. In fact, though not totally sure how he knew it, Daaen knew that the removal of the device would result in his death. No, he
would leave it in place. Even now, he could feel it somewhere inside him. He wasn’t totally discharged either. It must have been storing up ballistic energy ever since he began wrestling and taking hard bumps in the ring. As
it was, Daaen sensed a need to “discharge” the battery even more, as though the battery were still near to fully charged and could fill up again at any moment. That was something that he very much wanted to prevent. Sharp,
stabbing pain accompanied the sensation of the full battery. Trying to charge it past it’s capacity only resulted in what felt like getting zapped by a stun gun. And that was only taking punches and poundings from another
guy. Imagine what it would be like if he took a real blow from a car or something of the like. No, Daaen wasn’t having any of that. He needed to find a way to discharge this thing inside of him and soon.

There are times in our lives when the world seems to shut down. The sounds of the earth go away and all that’s left is the perfection of a moment in time. Loves first kiss, the birth of a newborn, winning the lottery, or in Daaen’s case, taking a bite out of one of Barry’s burgers after going hungry for a few days. At only 3 dollars a burger platter, Daaen’s wrestling winnings would last him a while here. Two burgers, an order of fries, a coke, and a milkshake later and Daaen was back out on the streets, left to ponder again the events of last night. Things seemed much clearer with a full stomach, though. In fact, he was just beginning to think of ways to
further discharge the battery when he heard the sound. From out of an alley up and to the right, the sound came. It was high in pitch like the voice of a child, but with a bass undertone. It didn’t sound like anything
earthly—or unearthly for that matter, as Daaen had heard his share of noises from outer space. No, this sound was like nothing he’d ever heard before. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop him. In fact, Daaen never really worried about
most dangers, figuring that if the aliens needed him for something, they would surely prevent him from an untimely demise. That and the fact that he was somewhat bigger than most guys lent Daaen a sense of exploration and
confidence when it came to possibly dangerous situations.

The alleyway was dark. Even with the noontime sun shining above, the darkness in the alleyway guarded its secrets like a jealous mistress. Dark and still, the alleyway stretched out before Daaen. The wind blew a paper
around in little circles a few feet in. After that, there wasn’t much the eye could see—and Daaen was no superhero with ultra-mega dark vision.
Still, driven by curiosity and the complaisance that a full stomach grants, he stepped into the pitch. Once across the threshold of darkness, it became as if twilight. Daaen could see, but only through a haze of shade. Then
the noise came again, like the crooning of an old woman coaxing a cat from under a bed. Something was in the alley with Daaen. And it was doing something. But what?

There was a dumpster positioned opposite a door about fifteen feet further down the alley. Whatever was making the high pitched noise was on the other side of the dumpster. Daaen took a few steps toward it, but stopped. What if this was something really dangerous? Alien benefactors or not, death could some swiftly. Whatever it was, it was intelligent, that much was sure. Maybe it had a gun or weapon of some kind.

Daaen waited, not wanting to make the mistake of asking if anyone was there like so many dead people did in horror flicks. No, instead, he waited and watched. As his eyes settled into the dimness, he could make out a pale, green light shining faintly from the other side of the dumpster. The light seemed to get brighter and dimmer at intervals as though it were pulsing or breathing. Whatever it was that was behind the dumpster was certainly
involved in something—and the feeling that Daaen got was a bad one. That’s when the smell came to his nose. A hard, sulfurous odor that hung hot in the air. Yet, even as unpleasant as these sensations were, Daaen found
himself drawn forward. Rounding the edge of the dumpster, his eyes settled on the source of the green light. A circle of strange writing swirled on the ground, undulating like a snake that is in no hurry to escape. As he
watched, a clawed hand that was impossibly red emerged from the center of the glowing circle!

Gasping as any normal guy would, Daaen jumped back from the circle, but couldn’t take his eyes off of what he was seeing. This circle or whatever it was seemed to be some sort of a gate or portal—and something was making
its way through! By the look of the claw and arm that were already into this world, the thing must be big. How it could fit through the circle which seemed really small by comparison, Daaen didn’t know. Suddenly, being
in the alley with this thing that was forcing its way into the world didn’t seem such a good idea. In fact, the longer he stared at the abomination, the more afraid he felt. Still, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. It was as
if the thing knew he was near and wasn’t going to allow him to leave before it decided what to do about him.

All of the sudden, breathing seemed to be getting harder and harder to do as despair set in along with the realization that he was trapped. The head of the monster had emerged and was now gazing fixedly at Daaen. It must
have been a demon, Daaen surmised. There was no other way to describe the scaly red skin and the horrific sight of what now seemed to be crawling out of the portal toward him. Daaen felt himseld losing control of his muscles,
as if the strength were being pulled from him. Then the pain started—electrical pulses coming from inside. It was the battery. Somehow, it was reacting to the situation. Or was it that he was no longer consciously in control? A thought occurred to him in the split second before the demon raised itself to its full height. What if somehow the battery was always absorbing energy and Daaen himself was somehow consciously preventing it by not wanting to fill it past capacity? Could it be that now, as he was no longer in control of his body, that the battery
was free to fill itself? There was certainly enough energy in the alleyway to tempt it.

The Demon certainly seemed to take notice of the change in the energy. It was now looking at Daaen as a curiosity rather than a meal. It reached its clawed hand forward, cocking its head to the side as of to say, “What power is this?” The second the demon touched Daaen, though, there was a sharp impact to the air and both Daaen and the demon screamed in pain. Obviously the demon felt pain at the touch of the draining effect of the battery.
Needless to say, the pain was doubled for Daaen, who was forced to experience again the sensation of the battery filling itself past capacity. Before he could think about how it all happened though, a scaled fist impacted with the side of his head, lifting him into a sick parody of a flight that ended with an even worse crash landing. Daaen landed in a heap, gasping in shock and agony. His nose was busted open as blood flowed freely from it. His eye must have been hurt too, as he could now no longer see from it. Worse than the pain of that though was the pain of the battery. Again, it had sapped energy from the demon in the split second that they had made contact. The sensation was torture for Daaen and without being able to stop himself, he vomited.

Curiosity cast aside, the demon now reconsidered Daaen as a snack. “Puny human,” it uttered, “how dare you!” Puny wasn’t a word that Daaen would ever have imagined would be used to describe himself, but he was in no
condition to argue. The demon crossed the distance between them quickly, snatching its prey up in one clawed hand. Again the pain of the battery being over-full wracked Daaen. The demon must have felt it too, but it
seemed to be ignoring it. The moment it took to relish the moment proved to be too long, though. As the pain in Daaen grew to unbelievable heights, he did the only thing he could—he punched out at the demon. The punch was
little more than a swing in desperation. The force behind it was pretty low, but as it happened the night before, there was a violent impact to the air like a mini explosion in a vacuum. The pain ended immediately and the
demon crashed back against the opposite wall. Suddenly, it all made sense. Feedback was pretty accurate. Not only did the battery charge itself from energy around him, but it also allowed Daaen to use that energy as force.
Pay back time was at hand as the dawning of knowledge erased fear.

This time it was Daaen who stepped forward. The battery was still very near full and that which did not kill him certainly made Feedback stronger! The demon raised a hand to block Daaen’s punch, but this time the battery was backing the blow. The sound following the impact was sickening. If demons had bones, a few had most assuredly been broken. An unearthly howl split the air as the demon screamed in pain. The next blow silenced it
forever, though. A haymaker from Feedback landed squarely across the cheek of the demon. Once again, the thunderous but soundless jolt impacted in the air and the demon crumpled to the ground and began to melt into a thick ochre.

As the adrenaline faded, soreness set in. Feedback’s face felt like it was on fire. Every beat of his heart pulsed pain throughout him. Suddenly he was hot and he realized that the darkness was no longer shrouding the alleyway. Taking stock of his own body, Daaen realized he was hurt and bad. Any moment now, and the sleep would overtake him. They were quick, the aliens…They had never failed to show up any other time he was injured.
Despite his anger at the lack of choice and freedom that being abducted afforded him, Daaen’s last thought as he slipped into unconsciousness was one of hope. He hoped they wouldn’t take too long to find him…Then he
collapsed.