“Auntie, what if I told you I wanted to kill you?”

“You just eat your broccoli. And quit wagging your chin!”

Clive kept waiting for the beautiful little black stone he had swallowed yesterday to come out. He kept worrying that having eaten it might kill him, but the idea of telling his caretakers was even more frightening. The pudgy boy rubbed his belly and shook his legs a bit to speed things up, but the stone didn’t budge. Resigned, Clive got off the chamber pot and plodded along toward the playroom.

Amusing himself in the playroom helped Clive forget his problem. Clive jumped on the trampoline, set up wagon races, and led toy soldiers into battle. Time flew by for the boy that evening! By the time the nannies and other residents of the house started screaming, he was fast asleep in his bed.

“It’s all ruined!” “There’s a criminal in the house!” yowled one of the aunties.

“Just imagine, someone building a guillotine for a teddy bear!” shrieked another.

“And the toy soldiers, all burned up with a candle!” some of the others howled.

“Tore out all the dolls” arms, broke the toy wagons!” “Not only that, but…”

The ruckus went on and on, but Clive, undisturbed in his cozy room, lay in his bed and smiled, looking up at the ceiling. Everything was so great!

They never found the culprit, and by morning, resigned themselves to an exhausted slumber. Everyone but the boy had succumbed to slumber. The stone was still in there, so Clive, trying to distract himself, decided to put together a nice surprise for his nannies: he’d cook them breakfast. What a good little fellow he was! He put on an apron, took some ingredients, and some cooking utensils. Things were heating up in the kitchen. An hour later Clive ran off to play outside, pleased with his dishes and their presentation. Guess what happened next?

“God almighty!” “Who hung up plucked knoggs in the kitchen and spilled tomato sauce everywhere?” the women exclaimed with shock.

“There’s raw meat torn up all over the place!” “Agatha, clean this mess up at once, before Clive sees it!”

But the boy was already off to the forest, humming to himself merrily. There were cute flowers blooming all around, the birds were tweeting, and fluffy chipmunks crisscrossed the path along with adorable ribbontails. Clive loved animals!

But, from a bystander’s viewpoint, the picture was anything but idyllic. The forest path looked more like warpath at that moment. Wherever Clive set foot, the greenery and vegetation burst apart, shredded. Those animals fast enough to escape, ran before him. The ones who weren’t faced a sad destiny.

“I bet my aunties are worried sick without me…” thought the boy. “I should return right away and give each one a kiss!” “I’ll tell them I made up a new name for myself.” “I’m not Clive anymore. Now I’m Cleaver!”

Excited by the thought, Cleaver ran toward the house. Who knows what would have happened to his nannies, had the Guardians not passed by. Clive the Cleaver proved hard to crack, even for Master Cornelius. It took many long hours for the scientist to determine that the boy was violent not by his nature, but because of the stone he had swallowed by accident. It granted Clive tremendous power, but redirected his happy-go-lucky spirit to grim ends. Over the following years, Hero Wars Cleaver grew and matured under the watchful eye of the Guardians, who managed to turn the trick of the Darkness against it.

“Auntie Aurora, what if I told you I wanted to kill you?”

“You just eat your broccoli.” “And quit wagging your chin!”