Strange psions of Broken Verge + murderous short story

[Superfluous Crow]

This here is a small introduction to a set of powerful antagonists in my campaign known as psions. Yes, they have mental powers, but although they are pretty simple entities i think i have twisted them away from the common trope. Tell me if you want to know more. I'm pretty proud of the short story so i hope some of you read it and comment on it. I won't give away too much about it yet.

[spoiler]"Guardsman Wades slowly crossed the doorsill of the little house for the second time this day. He had had to get some air before he could continue his investigation of the so-called disturbance that had been reported. Although, from what he had seen already it seemed to be quite a bit beyond a simple household disturbance. He took a deep breath and closed the door on the small crowd that had gathered outside the house. Rumors spread quickly after all. He had decided to close the shutters of the single window as well, to spare any window-peekers from what lurked inside; the only sign of the singularly bright and sunny summer day were the small rays of light that escaped through the cracks in said shutters and the palpaple heat of the room.

Wades quickly scanned the half-dark room with his eyes again, just like he had done the first time. Also like first time, he was amazed by how serene the scene still appeared; it resembled nothing but a small middle-class living room with a single door leading to what he presumed was a bedroom. There were no signs of looting, a break-in, or family arguments. The only thing that ruined the picture were the two corpses. His eyes stopped at the single sign of struggle. A plate, one of three plates that had been decked on the table, was lying in pieces on a floor, the porridge lying in a small puddle next to a toppled chair and the crumpled  figure that had probably been sitting on it. The man, which it appeared to be, was lying in a pool of his own blood; a pool which was slowly mixing with the porridge lying next to it. Wades felt nauseous at the sight of this, and considered switching to bread for breakfast for a few weeks, but he gathered his focus and braced himself, because he knew that the next item on his list was far more gruesome. He slowly approached the crumpling figure but stopped when he was a step away. This was where he had given up last time to go get a breath of fresh air, and he was very close to needing a new one. Uncomfortably he took the last step forward into the pool of red, sticky blood and looked down at the broken figure. Because it was indeed broken like nothing he had ever seen. Every bone seemed to have been crushed, but not in the way he he seen bones crushed in some of the more brutal street brawls and murders he had investigated. In this case the bones seemed to have been pressed together, compressed, so they were around half as long as usual. He could still see small shards of bone sticking out, dried blood on the skin revealing where to look for them. Even his torso had been pressed together, one of his ribs having pierced his chest in the process, and the utter crushing of his spine had probably put an end to his suffering at last. Wades couldn't fathom how the murderer had accomplished such a thing, especially not in such a short time. If it wasn't for his rational senses he would probably have called this witchcraft of some sort, but as it were he decided that he should wait for someone more experienced than himself before he made uncertain assumptions.
He turned to the corpse again, only half-succesful in hiding his shuddering from himself, and looked at the face. That awful face that had made him run. His white hair and beard made him look older than he was, but his face was clearly that of a handsome young man. That is, if you didn't count the monstrous features he had apparently been cursed with. His ears, one of them almost ripped off presumably by the force that crushed his limbs, were more than a  feet long and were draped across his face and the ground respectively. His front teeth were likewise elongated and had taken up monstrous proportions ripping his upper gum to shreds as Wades could see when he tentatively lifted his upper lip. Wades couldn't help but feel a little disgusted at the man's miserable stature, but the feeling was overwhelmed both by his dormant nausea and his analytical mind. How could a man like this survive? How could he find a job in a city, let alone afford such a relatively expensive abode? And how come he had never heard of such a freakish individual living in the city? Although it was common belief that the Watch knew nothing, Wades knew from his own experience that the guards always knew more than they let on, yet he had not once heard of such a deformed individual.
Shaking his head, he slowly got up and proceeded to the next corpse. This corpse was amazingly still standing, frozen in the position where she died thanks to layer of porcelain that her flesh was covered in. The first time he had seen her he had thought her to be a doll, like the ones he had seen at some of the more expensive tailors in town. But then he had noticed her frightened eyes. And the blood dripping from where her right arm had been. Now the arm was on the floor, amid smaller pieces of alternating porcelain shards and pieces of bloody flesh,  its jagged edges standing straight up oin the air while the hand still clutched the clay pot full of porridge. More porridge. After this experience, Wades doubted he would ever eat that stuff again. The blood had stopped dripping from the wound, leaving only a puddle of it dried on the floor, but he was pretty sure she had suffocated before that. He hoped he was wrong for her sake though. With him having finished scouring the living room, he took a few steps back away from the scene and followed the wall to the bedroom door. As he opened it he could hear a soft humming. And then he remembered; the table was set for three. The parent's probably had a son, or more likely a daughter according to the humming. He opened the door fully and saw a large bed and a small dark-haired girl sitting on it, playing with a small wooden doll. He was relieved to see there was no blood in the room; no signs of a struggle. And best of all, there seemed to be nothing wrong with the small girl'¦
[/spoiler]

Psion
Psions are a mystery to scientists and metaphysicists alike; they don't follow the rules of science, but neither do they seem to fit into any of the common metaphysical theories. Psions are born human, or at least by humans, and are as such considered a human xenotrope. Some though, consider it more of a disease where the individual experiences "episodes" where the psionism manifests itself. They don't look unusual in any way; in fact, even autopsies reveal nothing unusual. Psions can experience their first episode at any age, although most seem to manifest at a young age and achieve full potential around age 25-30. From there on the power slowly diminishes. The powers of a psion are as strange as they are dangerous. Their minds seem to have a certain influence on reality, bending rules and matter to fit their thoughts and emotional reactions. Observed powers have included: telekinesis, material transmutation, some control over humans and animals, weather control along with a host of lesser abilities. The powers only operate on a subconscious level, and the psion has no choice as to how his power will manifest itself. Psions are widely considered a danger to society in every possible sense of the word, and are usually killed on the spot if discovered; waiting can be fatal. Of course, some of them are drugged and shipped to secret facilities instead, never to be seen or heard of again. Some serums have been discovered that weaken or temporarily disable psionic powers. Burdened with their extreme power and unable to keep the company of the same persons for long, all but a few psions eventually go mad with power or loneliness. Most live in the shadow of society or, even more likely, as far as from the rest of humanity as possible.                    

Psions aren't viable as player characters in most games; they are extremely powerful yet also extremely undependable. Their powers aren't controlled by the player and might technically harm as much as it ever did good. Also, they depend on the fleeting thoughts of the mind, which would make it nigh-impossible to implement.

[Kindling]

Very interesting. It's hard to say more without knowing the wider context of the setting - obviously I've read your themes post, but I didn't bother with the link in your sig, as you said it was obsolete.... so basically, I'm still intrigued... and I want you to give me more, damn your hide!

[Superfluous Crow]

Why, thank you :D
Anyway, while the link is obsolete, i mentioned my Primer which has somewhat up-to-date information on the setting albeit it was made before the themes. It has some details on the Cataclysm and basic details though.
http://www.thecbg.org/e107_plugins/forum/forum_viewtopic.php?60852.post
Should probably put a link to that in my sig...

[Superfluous Crow]

Well I wanted to give this a second chance at gathering some comments before i gave up on it ^^