Hypnosis vs. Mr. Patel
Everyone thought it would be a normal day—until the hallway lights flickered purple.
Hypnosis drifted in first, eyes glowing, voice calm but heavy. Every locker hummed when he spoke.
“Attention,” he said, and half the students froze mid-step.
Mr. Patel didn’t flinch.
He adjusted his tie, opened his clipboard, and sighed. “Alright. Whoever’s doing this, you’re already losing participation points.”
Hypnosis smiled. With a snap, desks lifted, clocks spun backward, and whispers crawled into people’s heads. Students started arguing with themselves, confused, looping the same sentence over and over.
Mr. Patel raised a hand.
“Stop. Line. Up.”
Nothing happened.
He frowned, then flipped to a fresh page and began writing names.
Something changed.
Hypnosis’ grin twitched. The whispers stumbled. The clocks slowed.
“You can bend minds,” Mr. Patel said, tapping the clipboard, “but you can’t escape accountability.”
Hypnosis pushed harder—hallways stretching, doors melting into mirrors—but every illusion cracked as Mr. Patel calmly read aloud:
“Hypnosis. Missing homework. Excessive mind control. Disrupting educational environment.”
With each item, the purple glow dimmed.
Finally, Mr. Patel closed the clipboard.
“Detention.”
The illusions collapsed. Hypnosis dropped to one knee, stunned—not hypnotized, not defeated by force—but absolutely, undeniably caught.
As Mr. Patel walked away, he called back over his shoulder:
“Tomorrow. 3:00 PM. Bring a pen.”
Hypnosis never messed with school hours again.
Hypnosis muttered under his breath as he trudged down the hall, the echoes of Mr. Patel’s footsteps following him like a metronome. He had expected fear, resistance, maybe even a battle of wills—but this? This was a lesson delivered in calm, precise authority.
By the time he reached the empty classroom for detention, he had a grudging respect for the man who could bend reality with a clipboard instead of powers. Mr. Patel sat behind the desk, tapping a pen against the page, and didn’t look up.
“Sit,” he said. Hypnosis obeyed immediately.
For the next hour, Mr. Patel lectured not about magic, hypnosis, or powers—but about responsibility, choices, and consequences. Every word hit harder than any mental trick. Hypnosis felt his control slipping—not because it was taken, but because he realized he’d given it away by ignoring rules.
When the hour ended, Mr. Patel stood and handed Hypnosis a sheet. “Homework. All of it. Due tomorrow. And no funny business.”
Hypnosis nodded, a tiny, reluctant smile forming. For the first time, he understood: power meant nothing without discipline.
As he left the room, he glanced back. Mr. Patel was already buried in grading, calm as ever. Hypnosis thought he’d never forget this day—maybe the first defeat that didn’t hurt—but the first that actually taught him something.
And somewhere deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be the last time they faced off. But next time? He’d be smarter.
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