...Reports are still coming in regarding the hostage situation of Chesterville County, Montana, a rural zone with a population just under 1,000. Reports indicate that for the last three days, nobody has been permitted to leave the county, and that attempts from aerial teams to get footage have resulted in the choppers being downed. Food, however, is still being flown in...snatched by some invisible force from surrounding counties' grocery stores, or dragged in the form of delivery trucks from highways over to Chesterville! Authorities suspect metahuman involvement, and the National Guard has begun setting up a perimeter outside Chesterville's county limits...
"Like I said before...nobody leaves," came the raspy voice of the pale man floating high above Chesterville county, the speaker directing his words only to himself. He was muscled but thin, his upper body nude. Around his waist hung the remnants of a bastardized red cape, floating softly about in the wind. Long hair hung down over his white shoulders, scowling face accompanying a sudden gesture of the hand. The speaker had spoken in response to another car trying to sneak over county lines, driving at nearly ninety miles per hour in an attempt to get away.
It's like they think I sleep, he thought derisively, thrusting a hand forward to snatch the car off the road using only the force of his mind. The automobile and the family of four inside of it rose quickly into the air, as though picked up by a massive invisible hand. In an instant, it was replaced in the center of Chesterville County's only town, Bardford, upside-down in a pile with nearly twenty others. Unharmed, the group crawled from the wreck, despairing at their situation.
Mere seconds later, the corpse-like figure was overhead, glaring down at the occupants of the town with black eyes and a crooked smirk. Most of them were gathered in the center of Bardford, where they felt safety in numbers was the best option. At the creature's behest, they'd been going about their daily lives, but those who would previously have returned home had now set up tents in the middle of Main Street. They emerged cautiously, murmurs once again carrying through the crowd as the white being hovered above.
"Another unsanctioned departure from Chesterville. Jail," he said, swiping absentmindedly with a thin-fingered hand. The offending father floated through the air helplessly to a former post office, a dejected look on his face as he joined the others who had defied their new overlord. The door closed behind him, and a mile away, in the middle of the town, the stranger spoke.
"In a motor vehicle, no less. Scientific consensus is that fossil fuels harm the environment," he lamented, shaking his head slowly. "Citizens' report," he barked, now lounging in mid-air as one would on a throne. A nervous man - the former mayor - came forth, delivering news of the daily activities. No crimes committed, no accidents, and only two heart attacks, one currently undergoing treatment.
"Er, Mr. Omen, sir...Chesterville's drug addicts...they're going into shock. If they don't get their 'fix' soon, well -"
"Comas. Tell the doctors I approve," the floating man shrugged, waving the problem away. Those men had made bad choices, sure, but they would still have time to redeem themselves. A medically induced coma would take care of the problem for now, and let them dream away their woes. The stranger had brought along some "medicines" of his own design, putting those who enjoyed them into an endorphin-fueled daydream for weeks on end. Perfect for removing society's problems.
Another series of cursory updates, informing the new protector of Chesterville of his people's health and contentment. School was back in session, and most citizens were averaging seven hours of sleep a night. The enforced curfew seemed to help with that. Nodding, Omen straightened in mid-air, clapping his hands a few times.
"Well done, Mayor Quincy. You're a true pal," he said, before hovering slowly up into the sky once more. The pale, skinny being "looked" over his county with pleasure, feeling every blade of grass with a telekinetic caress. He felt the wind move, kept track of every deer in the woods. It was nice.
On the first day, he'd carried out simple favors for people, such as using his perceptive abilities to locate lost trinkets and retrieve missing pets. By the second, he'd used his powers to stop all crime in the town, which was simple enough, given its small size. He'd also participated in the reconstruction of some old dilapidated houses, easily holding the frame in place while the workers completed their craft. On the third day, however, came the introduction of curfew, and the prevention of anyone leaving the county. Alcohol and guns had been confiscated, as there was inherent danger to enjoying their use. Phone lines were cut, and he'd been forced to resort to blanket surveillance to keep his people safe. He'd stopped a suicide attempt, though, and that made him feel good.
Hovering high above, he felt guns moving through the grass at the county line, treaded tanks setting up. Engagement was a last resort for them, he knew. They'd been clever enough to stop before crossing into Chesterville county, aware that it would put civilians at risk.
He spread his arms, feeling every last inch of his beautiful town. For all intents and purposes, it had been saved. It was a good feeling, one the being hoped would last. Anyone who wanted to take it from him, though...well, he'd deal with them later.