March Writing Challenge: 100 Stories. 1 Month

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#85 – Serenity

The hill at the edge of town had a clear view of the whole of Pilot Ridge. It was such a tiny town, and none of the buildings were taller than a few stories in height; thus, the hill – which wasn’t that large, was more than tall enough for the task. Sitting there on the grass had always made him feel infinite, because he could see and hear everything from that one spot.

As a boy, he used it as a focal point. He liked the calmness that came from being up there, somewhat isolated from everyone else while still connected. Robert had always made him picture that hill when they meditated together; doing so helped with his panic attacks.

As a grown man, he no longer suffered from panic attacks. He was capable of meditating alone, without having someone telepathically hold his hand through the exercise. However, he still found the hill to be a relaxing place. Primarily because he still felt infinite and connected to everyone and everything from that single spot high above Pilot Ridge proper.

Despite the view and the connection, few other people ever seemed to use it. Whenever Sean needed clarity or time alone, he found the hill utterly unoccupied.

That was to his benefit; he certainly wasn’t charged with the task of recruiting people to his perspective on the hill.

When he wore denim jeans or short pants, he didn’t worry about the dirt. When he wore a suit, he typically brought a small blanket with him so he didn’t have to fuss with grass stains; those made such a poor impression with other people and were more trouble than they were worth. If he didn’t have the blanket, he crouched until his knees ached, or he turned his jacket inside out and sat on that.

It’s a girl!

A man a few years older than Sean had just entered Elaine Tonaya’s flower shop to buy a bouquet and balloon to take with him to Maddock Hospital, before he went to see his granddaughter for the first time.

Sean smiled to himself.

I drew this for you; it’s our house...

The daycare center was always aflutter with activity during work hours of the week. Small children were one of the telepath’s favorite groups of people on the planet, but he rarely found himself actively involved with the daycare center. He had no reason to be, after all, since he was neither a parent nor a legal guardian. Occasionally he would go by on his volunteering rounds, or if he needed to babysit for a coworker or neighbor and the sitting entailed pickup from daycare, but otherwise he remained apart from it.

It was nice to see and hear children learning, children expressing love for their parents through the skills that they had and creative outlets.

It’s so nice out today; maybe we’ll have a barbecue.

That was a thought that he might borrow, in fact. It was quite nice out, and one had to cherish the opportunities for sunlight and warmth in Vermont. Since half the year had the potential for snowstorms, Vermonters (and, in the case of himself and Josh, displaced New Yorkers – he would never think of himself as anything else, no matter how many decades he lived in New England) needed to take advantage when they could. That included celebrating summer even before the solstice.

The telepath had meat in the refrigerator – chicken, beef, and shrimp – and he could stop at the grocery store on the way home should he need pork. He had potatoes, onions, and peppers to grill, and cabbage to make into coleslaw. Beans and corn were staples that he always kept. The same with pretzels, which served the same role as crackers in that they were a quick and simple source of glucose.

For dessert: ice cream or s’mores. Yes, those would do nicely.

His thoughts drifted, as did his focus.

As tended to happen when he didn’t shield completely, and when he allowed his thoughts to drift, he found his homing beacon.

...I hope Sean likes this...

An image popped into his mind of the surprise Josh had planned.

Sean was touched. Although he wouldn’t call his partner to ruin the surprise.

Instead, he would bask in the peace of his hill for a bit longer, before it was time to stop for groceries on the way home to grill. If he timed this correctly, he could give Josh the lead-time necessary to hide the present at home. The telepath could pretend to be none the wiser.

Though, in this moment, he knew everything. And it was good.

[Lorelei Wuornos]

#58 - Dust

Lorelei awoke to another day at Hammel. A plain day. A Tuesday. Not close enough to the weekend to be excited but far enough away from the previous weekend to be prepared for school. As always she'd set her alarm for a few hours earlier than class was set to begin. She liked to spend a little time outside before the day started. It woke her up, got her going, helped to improve her mood and raise her energy. The sun was shining brightly through the window just above her bed and she smiled back at it as if the sun were a human being greeting her.

Just as she got out of bed she heard three loud thumps from the main door into the dorm. It was early and all of the other girls were still asleep, so she ventured out into the main room and paused just as her own named was called from the other side of the door.

"Lorelei! Lorelei, you let me in right now!"

Lorelei recognized the voice as that of her sisters, Emery. She looked around toward the rooms where the other girls stayed and her stomach twisted. If Emery woke them up they would not be happy, so she quickly opened the door. Emery stood on the other side in a pair of skinny black jeans and a red tank top, her long brown hair pulled up. Her eyes were blazing, practically red, and she hands were balled into fists.

"You bitch! How could you?" Emery said, and lunged at her sister. She grabbed Lorelei by her tshirt and tossed her to the ground, easily overpowering her. Lorelei landed with a thud that surely woke her fellow dormmates up, but no one appeared to see what was going on. "You knew how I felt about him and you go and do this? Why would you do that? I hate you!"

Lorelei pushed herself up with her elbows and looked up at Emery with large eyes and her mouth hanging wide open. What was Emery talking about? She was so angry - no, beyond angry - and Lorelei had never seen Emery so angry about something, not even the day her power emerged and she nearly burned their home to the ground.

"Em, what are you talking about?" Lorelei asked breathlessly as she pushed herself off of the floor to stand in front of Emery once more.

"Milan!" Emery said matter of factly, as if the word itself should explain the whole situation to Lorelei. It didn't, and she looked around the dorm for answers that were nowhere to be found.

"What about Milan? I don't understand, Em."

At this Emery seemed to grow even angrier and she placed her hands on her hips, the smoke practically billowing out of her ears.

"You know that I love him. I have since day one, and you had to go and mess it up, didn't you? You had to take him from me, just like everything else!"

Emery had been bitter toward Lorelei since the day she was kicked out of their home. Lorelei had stayed with her parents a single year longer than Emery, but it had taken it's toll. After Emery their parents had known that it was only a matter of time before Lorelei's powers would emerge, so they kept the Hammel recruiter on speed dial until her powers emerged. Then, when they did, Milan simply came and picked Lorelei up from the comfort of her own bedroom. Emery hadn't had it so lucky, though. When Emery's powers had emerged they were confused and scared, and had taken Emery to some random gas station in town and left her there...abandonded their own child, Lorelei's sister. They left her there to fend for herself, confused about her own powers and who she was. Emery had never forgiven Lorelei's for that simple comfort, and now...now this? Maybe Lorelei could understand, if it were true.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Em. Milan and I don't have anything going on...you know I think of him like a father...this is silly, why are you so angry?"

"I'm not going to listen to your lies anymore! I'm done with you, Lorelei, and I'm going to do the same thing to you that you've done to me. I'm going to take everything you love and rip it out from under you, just you watch!"

Emery lunged toward Lorelei again, but this time with a fist. Lorelei took the punch square in the jaw and hit the floor like a sack of stones. Emery stood over her, seething, breathing deeply, and Lorelei thought she saw tears streaming down Emery's cheeks as she reached out and kicked Lorelei in the stomach. Everything went fuzzy, and then black, and the last thing Lorelei heard was something sizzling behind her.

When Lorelei finally came to she couldn't help but cough. And cough more, and cough more. When finally she caught her breath she was able to open her eyes, and somehow everything that had been around her ceased to exist.

She rested in the remnants of her dorm still smoldering around her. Somehow she had been untouched by the intended disaster but everything else around her had burned. The dorm was gone, the people were gone, and all around her Hammel had vanished, parished and left nothing but dust, dirt, and ash.

Lorelei stood and a sharp pain in her side forced her to hesitate. The kick that Emery had delivered was still writhing inside of her, possibly had broken her ribs but maybe just bruised them. Her jaw ached as well, she realized, but nothing hurt as much as seeing everything she'd ever really known to be a family burned to ash and dust. With her right hand holding her side - as if that would help - she tip-toed through the soot carefully, examing the leftover walls of the building. Some of the ash was still hot and burned her feet. Her throat managed to crack out a yelp of pain as she rushed down what was left of this disaster and to the outside.

Outside was no different. The grass in the courtyard that had once been bright green was now brown and burned, the edged singed with black. Trees stood just barely, threatening to tip over and give way at any moment. Tears welled up in Lorelei's eyes and she looked around desperately for any sign of green life, an ache in her heart growing so desperately that she thought she may just fall over and die along with the poor trees.

"What have you done, Emery?" Lorelei whispered in the wake of complete silence. There was no one around. No students, no teachers, no civilians, and Emery was nowhere to be seen. For a moment Lorelei panicked over the thought of finding some poor human skeleton reaching out for her help, having perished in a stance so desperate and sad. But she saw no skeletons, no human ones anyway. And that ignited the question.

Her spot. Her tree.

She broke into a desperate sprint, clenching her jaws together even through the pain of the bruise that Emery had left. Her ribs screamed at her, begged and pleaded with her to stop running but she couldn't. Not yet. Not until she knew. It didn't take her long, with such long legs, to cross the Hammel grounds and come to the opening of the woods that separated the Hammel grounds from the little field that Lorelei loved so much.

The woods had not been lucky. All along the line of the grounds the woods had been burned as well. Not a single green leaf, not a single flower or bush had survived. Everything had been blackened and dust now settled on every bare branch and limb. Lorelei could almost feel the screams, the terryfied cries of the plants and animals within. Begging for some give, pleading for a drink of water or a breath of life without the inhalation of smoke. The tears grew harder to hold back but she squeezed her eyes shut and continued her run down a path she was very familiar with. The whole way she stared at the ground, not caring about things in her path. Her bear feet kicked up dust the whole way, creating dark clouds in front of her until finally she reached the end.

There, finally, she looked up. And no longer could she hold back the tears.

Her beautiful field, her home, that had once been bouncing with animal and plant life alike, was nothing more than a field of dust. All of the other trees had been burnt down completely, embers still burning at their bases. And her Willow, her safe haven, the only place she'd ever truly felt was home, was a standing mass of death.

Slowly she walked toward the Willow. The curtain of limbs and thin leaves had been torn down and ripped away. Those same limbs now rested on the ground by the trunk, the dust left behind blowing away more and more with every slight gust of wind. Lorelei stood with her mouth agape and her head pounding. Her entire body began to shiver uncontrollably and she thought she might faint again among the dust of the dying field, but forced herself to continue closer to the Willow.

"No...no. No, no, no, no, no," she said repeatedly as she grew closer and closer. Just inches away from the tree she paused, staring up at the black mass left. A few limbs hung on with every fiber of their being, as if refusing to give in completely to the immenient death. Lorelei held her hands out, spreading her fingers with her palms facing the trunk of the tree. They were nearly touching the trunk, and she closed her eyes, imagining the tree when it had once been thriving. "Please. Please, Willow. Don't leave me."

With every ounce of focus she could possibly muster up, she tried to lift a root from the dirt. Nothing happened. She tried to shake the tree and nothing happened. She tried to manipulate the remaining limbs, to have them reach out to her and touch her face and again nothing happened. In that moment her hands fell to her side and she stared up at the great tree the tears came like great waterfalls in the knowledge that her powers were limited to only living plants. If she could not manipulate the tree then there was no saving it. Down to it's very roots it had been lost, destroyed by a bitter fire.

Lorelei took a step to the tree and attempted to wrap her arms around it, and it gave way. As if it hadn't been a solid, living thing at all it simply disintigrated into dust and fell like snow around her, covering her entire body in the black sooth of a former life.

She began coughing again and had to move. She ran a few feet away from the remnants of the tree and finally fell to the ground where the grass felt sharp as knives. There, on her knees, she slammed her fists into the ground and began to shake with sadness and anger and overwhelming loneliness.

"Why? How could she...how could she ruin this, this is all I have!" Lorelei screamed into the silence, and the wind howled in response to her. It roared and in a flash before her eyes it picked up every particle of dust that the Willow tree had left behind and carried it away like a black cloud. "No! Bring it back!" Lorelei screamed and tried to stand up, but fell right back down. "No! My beautiful Willow. My beautiful home. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I've done this to you." Lorelei said through sobs, unable to control herself any longer. She fell onto her side and curled her knees to her chest. Her ribs ached once again but she ignored it, squeezing her eyes closed tightly.

"This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening," Lorelei whispered to herself as she rocked back and forth, and felt as though she must have stayed that way for hours.

Finally, just before she fell asleep, she heard someone call her name.

"Lorelei?" said a voice so liquid that it could have been running water itself. She shivered upon hearing it and opened her eyes to see a woman standing before her.

She was hovering just above the dust that Lorelei rested in. She was tall and had flowing brown hair that nearly reached the ground. Lorelei could hardly believe her eyes, the woman before her was the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. Her face was warm like sunshine itself, her body was covered in clothing so soft and natural that Lorelei thought she could feel it even from a distance. She gave off the scent of fresh leaves blooming in the Summer. Her skin was tanned and as smooth as a flower petal. In an instant Lorelei knew who the woman was, but she couldn't for the life of her open her mouth to speak a word.

"Lorelei, you do not belong among this field of dust." Said the woman and the words warmed her shaken heart. "Why do you weep so?"

"Because I allowed you to be destroyed, mother Willow," Lorelei whispered and dropped her head, tears once again flooded her eyes.

The spirit of The Great Willow walked closer and crouched down to Lorelei. Her fingers slipped beneath Lorelei's chin and brought it up to look at her. The spirit had eyes the color of the most crisp and ripe Apple of the year, yet they were nothing if not sincere and comforting.

"My dear Lorelei, my child," said Mother Willow with a softness unmatched by any bed or pillow or article of clothing. "You have done nothing but brought about new life."

"I don't understand. Everything has been destroyed because of me. You were my home, this place was my home. And now it's gone. It's all gone."

"My dear, you must understand. Fire is not simply a means for destruction."

Lorelei met Mother Willow's eyes and somehow even through blurry vision the woman looked as clear as a beautiful Summer's day.

"Fire cleanses what nothing else can. There is pain everywhere, in everything. What is old must eventually perish to make way for what is new. It is an opportunity to start again, to create new life with the wisdom of what once was. Do you understand, child?"

Lorelei did understand. Every word that Mother Willow spoke moved straight from her beautiful mouth and into Lorelei's mind, as if words were completely unnecessary in the interaction and the knowledge was simply placed within her.

"But how, Mother Willow? How do I begin again? Where do I start?"

At this the spirit of The Great Willow smiled. She placed a hand on Lorelei's head and gently stroked her hair. A tear that had welled up in Lorelei's eye ran down her cheek and from there fell, splashing down on the ground just atop a small pile of dust that had once been The Great Willow itself.

"Look," Mother Willow said, and Lorelei followed her pointed finger. From the dust and ashes, in the spot where her tear had just fallen, a light beamed. Slowly from that light grew a stem and from the stem, leaves and a bud. And from the bud, a flower opened. A daisy stared at Lorelei from the ashes and her mouth opened but she was unable to speak. She looked up to Mother Willow and found that she had turned and was now walking away, again just above ground.

"Wait! I can't do this alone!"

"Can't you? But my dear, you have already begun. Devotion, kindness, understanding. These are what you will need, and you are already armed with such things. The how, the why, and the when...well, they are up to you. Your world is now a blank canvas. Wipe away the dust and create something beautiful."

Her smile was happiness. As she turned away Lorelei stood and looked down at the small flower, and when she looked back up the spirit of The Great Willow had vanished.

She was still scared in the face of the unknown, but understood that even though a great tragedy had become of her it was her duty to make of it what she could. Already she yearned for the protection of the Willow Tree. So that would be where she started. Lorelei took a few steps back from the flower and sat back down on the ground, crossing her legs. She cleared the dust and soot away from a small spot just in front of her and there she dug her fingers into the Earth. She ripped away the top layer of dead grass and dug her nails into the soil. Then she rested her hands, palms down, on the spot and closed her eyes. She pictured the Willow Tree, massive and beautiful, with it's protective curtain and great knowledge, and poured all of her willpower into the image. For minutes she sat there, legs crossed, thinking of the tree. And when she opened her eyes, the beginnings of a small tree had sprouted out around her fingers, soft roots making their way into the soil. Exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks and she let out a heavy sigh of relief and looked down at the small tree.

"You're just the beginning, small Willow," Lorelei said to it, and rested her head in the gap between the flower and the Willow, and closed her eyes.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#2 - Dim

After the ordeal, he took the LIRR up to Manhattan. Josh had said he’d meet him after court, but that was two hours away, assuming that the subways cooperated. He needed to talk, and not knowing what else to do, he found himself on the Upper East Side. He took the moment to call Josh and leave a message about where he was, so that the other man could meet him there when he finished with court.

“Sean,” the elderly woman greeted him sympathetically, before ushering him inside. “Joshua told me, and I’m so sorry about your mother’s passing. How are you holding up?”

“I could be better.”

“I’ll make some cocoa. Then you can tell me all about it.”

Sean had known Mama Bernstein for thirty years. She’d been nothing but kind to him in that time, and had essentially adopted him when he and Josh had moved in together, because he was a dear friend to her son. She didn’t know how dear he’d once been, but that was Josh’s secret to divulge, only Sean’s to keep.

Still, she had given him a sense of family when his had been less than supportive.

As a man who’d lived half a century, it was a little strange, breaking out of his normal routine to sit in someone else’s kitchen drinking hot cocoa with (Kosher) marshmallows. Yet here he was.

“I always liked the concept of sitting Shiva,” he remarked, as he mindlessly stirred the liquid in his mug. “We did a wake for two nights, but that doesn’t give the same sense of closure. You feel like a host, and everything is rushed. You’re not really allowed to grieve.” He sighed and set his spoon down. “Then because we’re Irish, everyone immediately gets drunk to bury the pain after the funeral, but it’s all a charade.”

Although she was usually a talker, she only nodded, letting him say whatever he needed to get off his chest.

The telepath shook his head to himself before bringing the mug to his lips. He was barely aware of the heat of the liquid, although it wasn’t quite hot enough to burn. He decided against a second sip until the cocoa had cooled enough.

“This one was worse than my father’s funeral,” he added after a long moment of silence. That was to be expected, given that his mother had been able to take care of the arrangements for his father’s funeral, as his widow. He and Kathleen hadn’t been parentless after his father’s funeral, and his sister (and her son) weren’t his only living blood relatives with whom he had any real connection.

Considering his relationship with his sister, the fact that he still had more of a connection with her than he had with any of his cousins and their families was all the more striking. But his cousins were like Kathleen with their beliefs – both political and religious – and the paths of their lives. Sean was very much the black sheep of the Neville clan, and he had been since the moment he had developed his telepathy.

Even if his parents had still loved him. With neither his mother nor his father still alive, and with Kathleen the way that she was, his only true connection with the family was through Ryan. And Ryan was a Finnerty, not a Neville proper. He had so many relatives on Colin’s side of the family.

Sean then shook his head to himself, because he knew he was being rude. “How is Bobby doing?”

Mama Bernstein’s expression shifted momentarily. “He still has his good days, although it’s getting harder for him.” Alzheimer’s always followed the same path: initial memory loss that might appear manageable followed by the diagnosis that filled families with dread. “He’s still my Bobby, even if he doesn’t always remember.”

The telepath reached out to pat her arm, offering comfort through touch. Josh had taken after his mother in so many ways, and he knew that she was as physical person as his friend was. He thought she might appreciate that small bit of connection.

If her smile was any indication, she did. Then the two lapsed into silence as they sipped their cocoa.

Their refills were interrupted by a knock, before a key turned in the lock. Josh entered, setting down his briefcase in the foyer. “The judge adjourned early,” he explained, looking from Sean to his mother and then back again.

“Boopkie!” His mother said, turning to dote on him now that her favored child was in her home. “Would you like a mug of cocoa?”

I need to talk in private, Sean sent mentally to his friend. While he could carry on an entire telepathic conversation with Josh while they had an audience – in fact he had done so many times before – that took more effort than he thought he could put forth right now. He was emotionally drained.

“Maybe later,” Josh answered, which was his tacit way of acknowledging what Sean had projected to him. He continued to look at his friend and asked, “Do you want to take a walk?”

“Yes.” The telepath turned to look at Mama Bernstein. “If you don’t mind my being rude?”

“It isn’t rude, Sean. You need to have some time with your friends after going through what you did.” She smiled at him and then shooed both younger men from her apartment.

No sooner were they out the door and in the elevator than did Josh reach out to wrap his arms around the telepath in an embrace intended to be nothing more than friendly. “How are you holding up?”

“I didn’t take communion,” Sean replied, leaning into the embrace as the elevator brought them to the ground floor. “Over a hundred people in the Church and only one person, her first-born, doesn’t take communion. They wouldn’t stop thinking about it, how scandalous their one son the doctor would come for the funeral when his soul wasn’t in a state of grace.”

He couldn’t say that in front of Josh’s mother. While she knew that he no longer went to church and had dated consistently without marriage, and she knew that he was a political pariah among his family, she didn’t know the full details of his personal life. Thus, she wouldn’t understand just how disgraceful his personal life was to the teachings of his childhood religion and the sensibilities of his family. If she did, she would never have allowed him to stop in with her this afternoon.

But Josh knew. Josh had been there with him through all of it.

“I’m sorry,” the attorney said, although he knew the platitude was wholly insufficient. He wouldn’t know how to cope with the loss of his own mother; he had enough difficulty with his father’s decline, and still Bobby Bernstein was still alive to visit.

“And ahh how is Kathleen holding up?”

“As well as you’d expect.” Which was to say that she had her husband and son for comfort and didn’t want sympathy from her older brother. Even though their pain was similar enough, if not the same.

Sean sighed and straightened, pulling away from Josh as the door opened, lest one of the neighbors see them. “Do you mind if we go get a drink?”

“Of course not,” Josh assured him. “Flannigan’s isn’t too far; we could go there.”

An Irish pub. How fitting. “That sounds fine. Lead the way.”

Josh did, walking through the lobby of the apartment building with Sean in tow. As soon as they were on the street, he offered the telepath his hand. Sean took it without hesitation.

[Lani Hunter]

14. Echo
“People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.”
― Søren Kierkegaard


“Sir,” Lani said coming up to the front after class. The man turned from erasing the board.

“Yes, Mr….?”

“Lani.”

“Ah, yes, go ahead Lani,” Dr. Austin said giving the telekinetic his full attention.

Lani had his paper between his hands and he looked down at it and the less than satisfactory grade. “I wanted to talk to you about my essay.”

Dr. Austin nodded and took the pages from Lani’s hand. “Mhmm, yeah this was a good paper.”

“Then why did I get a C?” Lani asked unable to hide his frustration. If it was a good paper why did he get such a poor grade?

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dr. Austin said handing the paper back.

Lani gaped at the man who turned back to erase the board some more. “But…” Lani sputtered a moment looked at the paper and the question. “What? It was a question about asking questions. How did I not answer the question?”

“You ask how, you ask why. We all use these words very loosely. If I were to ask you how the wind blows you would say…” He paused glanced over his shoulder at Lani.

Cause off guard Lani uttered, “Uh…” He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about the weather.”

“Humor me.”

“How it blows…. It blows west to east in some places and east to west in others. It can go fast or slow. I don’t know.”

“You’re a meta human, are you not?” The doctor asked turning back to him with sudden inspiration. When Lani nodded he continued. “What’s your power?”

“Telekinesis.”

“How does telekinesis work?”

“It’s…” Lani paused his confidence draining. How did it work? “I think it and it does. I want to move that eraser and so I imagine I’m grabbing it and it moves.” To demonstrate the narration he grabbed the eraser and moved it in a waving motion.

“That tells me what it does, not how it works.” Dr. Austin watched the eraser for a moment before turning back to Lani.

“Um… It works because I’m able minded and strong and when I think about moving something I can ‘grab’ it and move it?” Lani shrugged the tail end coming out more like a question as he watched Dr. Austin’s face as he kept speaking.

“Alright, not so easy is it?” Dr. Austin asked. Lani nodded ruefully. “Now, Mr. Hunter, Why does your telekinesis work?”

Lani blinked and took a moment to organize his thoughts. That was indeed a hard question. “That would be a long answer. I don’t know how the brain works, maybe it has to do with firing synapses or something…”

“Let me stop you,” he held up a hand and leaned against the desk his eyes never leaving Lani. “But you just said you thought it and it happened. So are these thoughts occurring in the brain or the mind?”

“The mind,” Lani answered, “But in the brain as well. I get headaches.”

“Fair enough, but why can you move objects that you’re not touching? Your brain isn’t touching them.”

“It’s my mind then,” Lani answered.

“But where is your mind? Does that mean that your mind is everywhere? Or can be everywhere? Can your mind and my mind touch because if your mind is everywhere what is to say mine isn’t? Can your mind be where my mind is at the same time if they both exist everywhere? I don’t think so, not in a physical sense. So why does your power work?”

Lani ground his teeth getting more and more frustrated by these questions. “It works because I think it and it does.”

“But why?” Dr. Austin asked with a little smirk on his face.

“Because it does!” Lani cried in frustration.

Dr. Austin smiled and held up his hands as if to stall Lani just in case his ranting were to continue. “Not such an easy question is it? What makes this question so hard to answer?” Lani frowned, now he was doing that annoying professor thing where they made them answer their own question. But Lani was curious now.

Lani stalled deciding to give this a little more thought. It was hard because the mind didn’t exist in the physical plane. Or else they could touch it. And he could touch it to things so maybe it was. But it wasn’t. The brain was definitely in the physical world and perhaps there was a link between the mind and the brain because the brain could be injured and the mind affected. Lani looked at the professor frowned. “Because the mind can’t touch things unless it is in the physical world. And the brain can’t move things for me. But then we also have other things in science that we know, like why the wind blows. But then it gets into the details like my power. How it blows is mechanics but why it blows has to do with the earth moving. But then we could ask why the world is moving, then why does it rotate as it moves through space, why does it orbit? Why does the universe even exist? Are we the only universe?”

Something clicked in Lani’s mind and he felt his eyes going wide as he started to realize where he had gone wrong. “Why does our universe have some people that can move thing with their minds and others not? Does that mean that your mind is not in the physical realm but mine is? Why are some people born with a power and others not, why are some people born into wealth and others not? What about the universe makes that so? And why then are we in this universe where badness exists if there is another universe that is better? I know my power works but I cannot say how. So, then we have to ask ourselves if we really know what we think we know.” Lani looked up at Dr. Austin sure that he had answered that question and Lani had just forgotten. “How do we know what we know if we can’t even say why the universe exists?”

Dr. Austin snatched Lani’s paper and scratched out the grade and penned an ‘A’ on the top. “That, Mr. Hunter, is a question worth asking.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#88 – Manuscript

Sean had kept a journal since his powers had first manifested. At the time, he had done so simply to prove to himself that he wasn’t crazy, that his imagination wasn’t getting the best of him, and that the things he heard, saw, and felt had actually happened. The journals had grounded him to reality during the most difficult few months of his life, those months when he had no guidance.

Robert had encouraged him to continue with the journals, because they provided him with focus and routine. Eventually, keeping journals had become habit, and Sean did so without having to set aside the time. The same way that he brushed his teeth, showered, shaved, and tidied up after himself.

Near daily journals over a period of almost forty-four years took up a lot of space. There were hundreds of volumes, all of which were numbered carefully, preserved lovingly in boxes. Fortunately, the telepath had a lot of space in his home, and the attic proved safe for storage; well-insulated, located far above the flood line, and no more likely to go up in flames than the rest of his house.

He had lived an interesting life.

His life had been made more interesting by his decades at Hammel, first as a student and then later as the staff psychiatrist. Strange occurrences went hand-in-hand with daily life at Hammel, made frequent by the natural result of adolescent social pressure, hormones, and meta-human abilities combined together at a boarding school in a small town.

The sheer number of alumni who still resided in Pilot Ridge post-graduation (both the ones who left and returned and the ones who had never left after receiving their high school diplomas) transformed a sleepy town in New England into the meta-human capital of the United States. That, in turn, created more opportunities for interesting events.

Not all meta-humans could completely control their abilities under the best of circumstances. Not all adults reached maturity upon graduating from high school, or, in some cases, at all.

“You should write a book.” Ryan had told him this on more than one occasion, and Shiya had agreed. However, it was easy to dismiss that encouragement. Both Ryan and Shiya had writing talent; they wrote short stories recreationally. Sean, on the other hand, had never been one for creative writing. His journals were personal, and the only other writing he did – aside from correspondence – was the occasional peer-reviewed scientific article. Ryan was the only one with writing talent in the family.

That never dissuaded his nephew and his girlfriend from encouraging him. Ryan was fascinated by anything related to meta-humans, and Shiya was oddly fascinated by life in Pilot Ridge.

Strangely, so were other people – people who actually lived in the same town as he did. That was more perplexing.

“You have a unique perspective,” Janice Adams told him, one night over drinks. “Hammel’s just so interesting, and you know what makes everyone tick at that madhouse.”

Even Josh, who didn’t agree with Hammel’s recruitment policies and shared bad experience with Hammel’s internship program, subtly encouraged him. As subtle as Joshua Bernstein was capable of being, which tended to be a shade or two more conspicuous than the average person. “You have so much insight,” his partner gushed occasionally, when he discussed whatever advice he had to dispense at work, or when he described the antics of his students or coworkers. “You could write a complete history of Hammel. Or a book that would show that meta-humans are just like non-powered people, that you still have to deal with work, growing pains, and relationship problems.”

That was typically offered with a self-deprecating smile. Although his encouragement was sincere.

Students needled him occasionally about what he would do when he retired and stopped caring about his reputation and Hammel as a whole. The folly was their belief that he would ever stop caring.

In fact, it was Sean’s over-developed sense of responsibility that kept him emotionally invested in his workplace and in his coworkers. He truly cared about their lives and their wellbeing. He wanted their relationships to work out; he wanted the ones who desired families to achieve that goal, to do what he had never been able to insofar as rearing children.

Similarly, it was his sense of professional and personal ethics that prevented him from involving himself more than he already did. It was a difficult balance, since his personal ethics also taught him that he couldn’t turn a blind eye to any given situation, and once he knew of danger or suffering, it was his responsibility to alleviate it if at all possible. That his telepathy gave him greater knowledge than the average person was no excuse for inactivity.

It was a fine line to walk.

He didn’t do enough.

This was obvious from the constant absurdities that struck Hammel proper and the greater Pilot Ridge community. Unplanned pregnancies when he did everything for the students in terms of providing them with safer sex knowledge and opportunities short of force-feeding them pills, rolling on condoms, and sitting in the room with them to offer critique. Inappropriate relationships between staff and students despite all professional ethics, legal statutes, and common sense. Use of powers in intimate situations without proper safeguards. Many people were repeat offenders, failing to learn from their first mistakes and thus repeating them ad infinitum.

It boggled the mind on occasion.

More than that, he had to agree that it would dispense cautionary examples while simultaneously providing endless hours of entertainment.

But he could never actually publish such a book.

However, he could dabble with his journals a bit, taking on a more creative flair when reflecting on the end of the year and his game plan for any given future situation. And if someone found what he wrote after he died, he could leave specific instructions to prevent publication.

Until then, he could experiment. At the very least, it would provide him with healthy release, the outlet to say everything that he wanted to, even when he had so many reasons to curb himself.

"As a telepath, one is exposed to the constant barrage of other people's thoughts. Most people think about sex frequently, if not also exclusively. As a result, a telepath either becomes a repository of every sexual idea that has occurred to modern man, thus transforming into a creative genius, or, instead, he becomes oversaturated, never desiring to encounter sex again because everything is old hat. Fortunately, I fall into the former category. However, this isn't a book about me; this is a book about my coworkers."

[Calliope Gallo]

19. Alive

Callie had always worried about showing Lucah her dorm room. It wasn't because it was messy, or because she had an embarrassingly large photo wall that had steadily grown in the years since she started it. It was because it was... Bright. He seemed to prefer cool, comforting colours against the shiny sunlight types. She worried because Niko always joked that it was brighter than the sun, and Eric insisted on wearing sunglasses whenever he came over to continue with their brother's joke. The first time he asked to see it, she obliged a little awkardly.

But he didn't mind. He said it suited her perfectly.

And the more he came to visit, the more he got comfortable in her presence. The more that happened, the more he seemed to shine brighter. It was a side of his personality she'd never seen. The happier side he expressed that few got to see of him.

He'd even taken to lying in the middle of her single bed, which meant she got to huddle close to him. It was never about sex, it was about being genuinely comfortable in the comfort of another person.

At any rate, he found his usual place, and after taking a photo down from the wall she moved in beside him.

"Don't ever tell him I showed you this," Callie curled into his side, resting her head on his chest as she held up the picture of her perfect brother, younger with shaggy blonde hair for both of them to see. Lucah looped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in and looking at the photo offered to him. "Eric never wants to admit he used to be a skater."

"I can see why." He replied with a laugh. Calliope stared at it for a second or two longer before conceding to put it down with a sigh.

"Niko was always cool. He never did stupid stuff like that." She admitted, resting her hand against the fabric of his shirt. Her fingers trailed idle patterns in the cotton. She would crease it in small wrinkles before smoothing it out again. "I was hoping stories would make them a little less... Intense. Y'know?"

"It's fine, really." Lucah replied, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "They're not so bad. I promise."

But Callie laughed, poking at his stomach lightly, "Liar."

It caused him to laugh again - a sound that Calliope reveled in as soon as it touched her ears. She never knew him as the type to laugh in such a carefree way. She turned to lay on her stomach, glancing over at him and taking in the contours of his face. He wasn't smiling outwardly. His mouth remained in its usual form, but the colour of his eyes was... Strange. Either it shadowed the colour of the walls or something was different. She opted for the assumption that she was doing something wrong.

"I'm talking about them too much, right?" She asked rhetorically, "I'm sorry. I think I do that a lot. It's just..." Callie lowered her head slowly, averting her gaze and biting down on her lower lip. She would have given up on the whole thought, but when he reached out and curled his fingers in the line of her hair, she realised he was trying to encourage her. "Your family are so... Well, y'know. And my family really like you; brothers included. I just thought maybe if you knew a little more about them, you'd feel more like one of the fam-"

She was cut off by Lucah tilting her face so their eyes met. He pressed forward, leaning up and suddenly kissing her. Calliope melted against him, still unused to the way he had grown fond of spontaneity. She pulled away by an inch, the corner of her mouth turning up into a slight smile. Still she cringed slightly, opening an eye to glance over at him.

"Are you trying to shut me up?" She asked jokingly.

And for a third time, he laughed. Short and sweet. "Quite the opposite."

"What?" She asked, leaning against his chest again. But he didn't answer right away. He was just looking at her. She suddenly felt nervous underneath his gaze in the best possible way. The kind of nervous that made her question what compelled him to be around her as much as he liked to. He caught her hand in his, entwining his fingers between hers and pressing the back of her hand against his mouth. "Tell me," Callie tried again, "Pleeease?"

"Honestly?" He asked, his eyebrows raising slightly.

"Duh." She laughed, but it softened quickly into silence. She wasn't going to force what he wanted to say, but it seemed like he had something imperative on his mind that he wanted to express. And she knew that was difficult for him.

"It's things like that. Little things you do that..." He paused, shaking his head and starting again; "When I'm with you, I..." He stopped abruptly, pursing his lips as he searched for the right words. "I feel... I don't know the right word." He felt alive.

Her mouth tugged into a half-smile, her eyes softening underneath his gaze. After everything he'd gone through and the way he'd been treated all his life, he finally seemed happy. She'd never really seen him that way before.

"Yeah..." She breathed with a sigh.

"Yeah?" Lucah asked with a smirk, and she pressed her hand against his cheek, gently pushing against it.

"Yeah," She repeated, "Sometimes it's just easier than figuring out the right words."

[Ann Hudgins]

26. Breakable


The slammed shut behind him. She heard him move around a little more in their apartment.....their home.

Then the front door opened and shut. Then he was gone.

Everything had exploded so fast, so...sudden. She had no warning, no time to brace or to even think about it. Alex had hid it so well, she had no idea. Why didn't he tell her? Why didn't he ask her to go with him? They shared everything.

So she thought.

It was rage she felt now. With a quick, blind spin with hair and her jacket her fist went through the wall, cracking through the drywall she hissed as she pulled her hand back. She looked at the angry, already purple knuckles.

It didn't make anything better. Alex was gone. He was leaving her for Chicago, for his parents. He'd shut himself away from her when she needed to be there for him. They were engaged. Ann had already started a savings account to pay for the stupid wedding.

She fell right where she was standing, into a heap on the floor. She didn't cry, just stared. She stared for a long time, still mad.

---

Who to go to? She needed to talk. Alex was probably halfway to the state line right now, and she couldn't just skip out on her school and work. She, apparently, now had an apartment to pay for all herself, if he was really gone. She called his parents first.

They wouldn't answer her. Maybe they weren't there, or something, but the fact was she didn't get an answer and the lump in her throat stopped her from leaving a message.

Josef...would he even understand? What was so tragic about having to chase after her escaped fiance? Because he convinced himself he was dying. She knew him, he was pulling away from her.

Like she could forget about him with him gone. The nearest objected got kicked and knocked over. Something glass broke. Ann looked but didn't see what it was, in the hurricane of thrown around items it all looked wrong.

She looked down at her phone.

How was it fair that he could do this? She could be there for him! She could help dammit! She wanted to be there for him. When he told her that he had had lukiemia before, she made him promise NOT to do this same damn thing should it happen, god forbid. He did.

"THAT BASTARD!" It was the first thing she said since he left.

School the next day went by, she didn't remember the lectures, she remembered someone trying to talk to her, she couldn't remember who.


After her classes, she ended up at Kali's, somehow. The white--hair color of the week--haired woman was sitting off near the counter feeding Brandy a bottle. She looked up and assessed Ann with one look and then pointed her to go back into the kitchen.

Ann got there, somehow, she didn't remember walking. Next thing, she was seated in Kali's cramped office. Brandy had been put into her play pen and was probably trying to eat her feet. Kali sat next to her instead of going across the desk and took her hand. Kali sometimes forgot about Ann's handicap there.

She looked momentarily shocked when Ann jerked her hand back. "He left." Her chin started to tremble now, like talking about it made it real, and the tears were acting like they were coming. Kali's eyes widened and her jaw pulsed.

"Wh....?" The question hung. What could make mild-mannered, nice Alex leave Ann behind? Why get as far from her as he could?

"He--" Had he even told Kali? She couldn't remember. "He got leukemia again and left. For Chicago. He doesn't want anything to do with me anymore, in case..." She looked sideways at the baby pictures on the wall, some were of just Brandy, some had Kali in them, and some even had Mason in them. Ann didn't mind Mason, he was a good teacher, from what she remembered.

"Don't let him." Kali stated simply and touched her shoulder before she drew her hand back. "Do you need a car to get there, or money?" Ann actually laughed.

"Miss school to go all the way there to have him slam the door in my face?" She looked sullenly and Kali, "the apartment we have...I can't...." She had no idea. Kali nodded.

"Go and see him anyway. Fuck school, I mean. It is important, but missing a week, at the most? For this? Email your teachers, then go. He certainly needs you." Ann nodded. Kali always made sense with her not taking a no from anyone. She sighed. Josef needed talking to as well.

"I'll take care of it, and make sure he gets better. And come back when you can. Do you need my car?" Kali traded her Jeep in for a baby-friendly Nissan. Ann shook her head. Kali couldn't do everything for her.

"It's not that...He just won't..."

"Girl don't let him."
----


Ann had never ridden her bike longer than an hour before. Driving to Chicago was maddening. She made it, with a dreamless night in some hotel off the highway. Once in Chicago, she went straight to his parents house, she had the address (she got it from a letter envelope she found).

The cars were there. They were there. She went up to the door, helmet in hand. His dad answered. He had more grey than the last time she had seen him. "I need to see him."

He nodded, let her in. His parents had to be on her side. He needed the support, he needed all of them, to give him strength. At the very worst, Ann could keep him calm.

Alex was in his old room, looking out the window, his fingers traced his ribbon on his arm. Ann looked around before she looked at him. Her emotions were going crazy.

He slowly turned, expecting a parent to be checking on him. When he saw Ann there, with her uncombed-windblown hair, slept in clothes, hollows under her eyes, his mouth opened faintly then clamped shut. She saw and felt him shut off, in his eyes and in his heart.

"No." He said, almost as a pray.

"Alex you asked me to marry you."

"I know, but."

"Shut up and listen to me." Ann had never had that much acid in her voice when she spoke to Alex. He looked a little shocked. "Alex you asked me to marry you. I want to marry you. You want to live with me, and be with me for the rest of our lives. You love me, I know you do. I love you, you know I do. Why in the hell are you trying to fucking ruin it?" She stepped forward and forcefully (he didn't struggle much) to life in off the chair and pull him into a hug. He tried to push away but she clung tightly, disparately.

"I am not going to make you go through this. You can move on, and be happy and not have to worry anymore." Alex's voice was void of emotion. They were practiced words he had said to himself thousands of times.

"I'm not going anywhere, and don't you dare do anything like this to me again or I'll hurt you." She leaned back and looked at him, he avoided her eyes, instead looked upon the ugly purple thing that was her knuckles. One of them had to be broken. His eyes widened and she took it away, and curled it into a fist. Yeah, that hurt, they were also stiff from the freezing trip here.

"What if were were married and you went through this? Would you divorce me? What--why would you think something like this would work? You are not going to push me away so you can...can give up and die! We--we--" he started shaking his head, "are going to get through this!"

His head tipped forward and rested against her shoulder. His shoulders were tense and she heard a sob. She wrapped her arms around him, finding calm somewhere within herself, she let it wrap around both of them like a hug.

"I'm not going anywhere."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#36 – Veneer

“What will it take to bring you around?”

These were dangerous men. Although they hadn’t boasted so, they had been responsible for a rash of meta-human kidnappings over the past several months. Sean knew that, the men knew that he knew, and yet they sat in this booth in the back of a public restaurant, having what sounded on the surface to be a civil conversation.

Sean found it significant that they wanted to recruit him. Not insofar as they wanted him, since metas of all shapes and sizes had gone missing. Rather, he found it significant that they were approaching him to get his consent, to contract with them.

People with his power set were rare. Meta development tended to favor physical powers or powers that interacted with the world at large. Telekinetics at Hammel outnumbered psychics of any breed by a 3:1 ratio. Even empaths outnumbered telepaths – pure telepaths. A mind reader who could do something offensive was rare indeed. And valuable. Add to that his range, his experience, his knowledge, and he understood why they wanted him.

They wanted power and they believed he could help them attain it. They had a mind controller who worked for them, but her range was limited, as was her scope. While she could control the others in the group, they feared that he could break through her control, feared that he was stronger. It was a valid fear; he could and he was.

In fact, he only knew of one psychic more powerful than he was, and he had died years ago. More was the pity, since he believed that, with Robert Hopkins’s influence, such events never would have happened.

The telepath folded his hands in front of him, regarding the two men with a carefully bland expression. “That isn’t the right question,” he informed them after a moment of light probing. “The question is why I would enter into any form of binding agreement without informed consent.”

The two men looked at each other. Perhaps the precognitive woman who had gone missing near the beginning of the kidnappings had warned them that he would say that. Perhaps she hadn’t, but they should have expected it nonetheless.

The telepath sipped his iced tea – alcohol with men as dangerous as they were would be foolish – and waited for them to reach a consensus.

It took a few minutes.

Finally, the older of the two men, the one who had led this dance from the moment they had entered the restaurant, answered, “What is it you want to know? You must understand most of our work is confidential. Anything you’d need would be made available if you agreed to work with us, but we can’t flash this around like a drunken sailor with cash.”

“If you don’t trust me to have this conversation, then that prompts the question of what sort of working relationship we would have if I agreed to join you,” Sean remarked. He set down his glass, although his hand remained around the edge, feeling the coolness of the liquid. He didn’t voice the second half of his thought: that perhaps they meant he couldn’t trust them if he knew the truth.

“It isn’t you that we’re worried about,” the younger man objected. That was a lie.

“Well, good,” the telepath said, and he flashed a smile, the same smile he reserved for family gatherings, when he had to feign tolerance for his sister’s prejudices and her husband’s inability not to be liked by any members of Kathleen’s family. No matter her personal opinions. “It would be a pity if we couldn’t trust each other.”

While that might put the younger man somewhat at ease – not completely but a tad more than a moment ago – the response from his older companion was nil. Although Sean expected that; he was the more experienced of the two, the dominant one, the more suspicious one.

He was the one to watch out for.

Lowering his voice, Sean cut to the chase. “You need a telepath.”

“We would like your skills.” That was a half-answer, but it didn’t matter; he could see through the veil quite easily. Dragging out information before the inevitable conclusion served a purpose.

This was a fishing expedition.

“As a doctor, then?”

“Both would be helpful.”

Sean was certain of that. He could only imagine the amount of emotional, psychological, and psychic damage done to the kidnapped meta-humans that constituted their team. Most people mentally beat themselves into exhaustion when fighting mind control, although it was often for naught, absent mental shields for protection.

However, aiding them from the inside would do nothing to ease their suffering in the long-term. Doing so would only perpetuate their plight and the system that allowed it in the first place.

Better to watch from the outside. Because, as dangerous as these men were, they were scared of the telepath and what he could do. They thought they knew what he was capable of, and that concerned them.

What should concern them was how their imaginations and personnel files hadn’t even scratched the surface. The Church had taught him the value of humility; Robert had taught him the importance of keeping an ace up his sleeve and pretending to be weaker than he was. To make it seem like his hands were tied when they weren’t.

“I’ll need some time to think about it,” he answered, after spending a moment feigning consideration. That was a lie, because he had already reached his answer. However, he needed time and distance for the sake of comfort.

“Time is of the essence,” the older of the two men reminded him.

Sean knew that, which was why he intended to stall for as long as possible. To stall and dig up as much information as he could, so that he wasn’t wholly unprepared for the next phase of their project.

As soon as he had that, he made sure to cover his tracks. When the two men snapped from their daze, they had no memory of meeting with an older telepath. And there was no indication that anyone had joined them for lunch, but for the third napkin that had fallen to the floor, and the third set of dishes on the next table.

[Lani Hunter]

20. New

“What is it about then?!” Odion said, his voice breaking.

“It’s about everything!” Lani replied just as desperately. “It doesn’t matter who it’s about because this is about both of us!”

“You said you needed to hear me say it, but then it’s not about you? Am I saying these things for myself then? It’s always been about you Lani. I didn’t save her for me, I saved her for you. I didn’t help you train because it would help me. I just want to be with...” he stopped so suddenly, the silence was deafening. “I just want to help you, because you helped me,” he quickly amended, the force in his words dying like the light in his eyes.

“I didn’t deserve what you gave me,” Lani said slowly, “Even now I’m being selfish… But let me help you too, Odion. Just tell me…” Lani hesitated, his heart catching his throat he took a deep breath. Odion was right; but it was about time he helped Odion out. “Tell me what I can do.”

“I came back to try again, not because you deserve it. I did it because I wanted to. Because, fuck, because I care about you okay?”

Lani turned his head away as he chewed on his lip trying to quell his power and stuff it back in its cage. He looked sharply back at Odion. “And you think I don’t care about you?” He challenged. “Dammit Odion! You’re so busy looking for double meaning that you never take a moment to see what’s in front of you!” Lani exploded for a brief moment before getting himself back under control.

Odion said, “I can’t do this right now.”

“You know, when you came back I was getting better. I told myself I was never going to see you again,” Lani attacked his frustration and anger at the whole situation causing the truth to flow out. “And you know what I was fine with that!” Lani found his voice raising and raising. Odion had at least stopped walking.

“I’ve already tried telling you,” Odi said, “but you don’t listen. And you don’t listen to yourself. It’s not my fault you’re confused.”

“You’re the whole reason I’m confused!” Lani blurted surprising himself. He back pedaled. “You said you’d never abandon me, you liar!”

Odion whirled anger and pain flashing on his face. “Why don’t I just turn back time? We never have to meet. I never have to make you confused!”

Lani answered in rage. “Do it then!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A ring on his phone woke him. “’Ello,” Lani answered wearily. He listened for a few moments and sighed wearily. “It’s not enough? Alright. No, I’ll get it.”

He hung up and groaned. His quota still wasn’t enough. Were they trying to kill him? He had a date planned with Adrianna tonight, it was going to be their year anniversary soon. He didn’t want to cancel, he shouldn’t cancel, he had already canceled on her enough these past few weeks. No the quota could wait. He rose and dressed looking at himself in the mirror. He was never going to get his debt to be finished. Adrianna had been kidnapped not too long ago and Lani had been given a price for her head. He couldn’t pay. So he was in debt again. But now Adrianna knew everything. He looked at himself in the mirror and could hardly recognize his face.

It seemed more hollow than it used to. The eyes darker. He closed his eyes and his balance wavered. Something didn’t feel quite right. In his memory there was a field and in that field was a person. He looked so familiar but Lani couldn’t give him a name. Why did this keep happening?

It felt like something was missing. Something important. But he couldn’t remember it. It was like a dream that was gone when he woke in the morning. He shook his head. He was meeting Caroline at the dining hall this morning for breakfast. He dressed quickly and went down the hall looking at his phone. He ran into someone.

“Watch it!” The man said and Lani looked up his eyes locking with the blue ones.

“Watch yourself,” Lani snapped back habitually but continued walking but not before glancing back at the redheaded person. He shook his head as he went for the stairs. Strange. He had probably walked by that person everyday but never actually spoken to him. He shuddered why did the blue eyes look so familiar?

Lani sent a text to Caroline and gave an apology and turned back to follow the redhead. Why was the empty feeling suddenly stronger and why did the look into those eyes seemed to fill it for a moment? He followed at a discrete distance careful to stay out of sight. He followed him until he reached the pond.

Pausing Lani looked at one of the bushes. Was there a cat living around here? Why did he think that? Lani suddenly felt a ringing in his ears and held onto his head as a wave of pain smashed into him. What was going on? Why did this empty feeling keep growing? He felt like he was forgetting and he felt like he was being forced to live the rest of his life without his heart.

That redhead must have done something when he ran into him. That was the only explanation. He blinked as the pain passed and he looked up and the redhead was standing looking at him with an expression of surprise. “Who are you and why are you following me?” He asked his surprise giving way to anger.

“I should ask you the same thing.” Lani straightened and got a better look. He looked so familiar. But he was someone Lani had just met. Why did he feel so happy to see this redhead. “I know you.” Lani said finally his eyes narrowing. Now he knew it. He had to be someone who worked for his boss.

“I doubt that.” The redhead answered levelly. Lani hummed his eyes narrowing in suspicion. But the redhead continued. “You know it’s awfully rude to say you know someone and not supply your name.”

“You first.”

The redhead’s lips quirked into a strange smile. “Martin.”

“Lani,” the blond paused and he looked at his feet then back up at the redhead. “Martin?”

“Still know me?” He said a smirk on his face that made Lani just want to throttle him. It was as if everyone on the planet was an idiot and he was just unfortunate enough to have to live on the same earth.

“I guess not…” Lani started to turn away and as he did so something strange happened. It was like a flashback to a dream and his heart stung as he walked away. So many harsh things had been said. But this guy was right he didn’t know him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All night with Adrianna he had been distracted. She had noticed and asked him. He had lied of course. He should have known better but it was just a white lie. He wasn’t feeling well. Which was true. But not for the reasons she thought. Why couldn’t he get this Martin to leave him alone. The redhead would not stop invading his thoughts. He laid awake in bed and every time he closed his eyes those bright blue eyes showed up. Then he would get that ringing sound in his ears and have to wait as a wave of pain crossed over him. Finally Lani couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to be out. He was dressed darkly and prepared to go rob the town blind but as he crossed the field someone caught his eye.

“Martin.” Lani called out feeling the desperate need to make this right again.

“Oh it’s you,” the redhead answered with annoying indifference. Why was it that he was making Lani sick but he was fine? Was it all in Lani’s mind? Had he finally cracked? Was he going insane now?

Oh well, no time to dwell on that now. “That’s not your name.”

“What?” Martin turned startled. “What makes you think you know eve—?”

“Martin isn’t your name.” Lani repeated a small smile on his face. He wasn’t sure how he knew but he knew he did. “What did you do to me?” He asked now that he had Martin’s attention.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean why does it feel like I know you?” Lani cut himself off from saying anything further.

Martin shrugged. “I have one of those faces?”

“I know you.” Lani said with more sureness. “And your name…” The redhead watched him with narrow eyes and it was almost as if they were both waiting for the answer with bated breath. But as soon as Lani had said it it was gone. He heard the ringing in his ears again and the strange dreams started again, they kissed. Lani shook his head, this could not be happening to him! “Something’s not right. I feel like I’m remembering you but I’ve never seen you before.”

The redhead looked surprised and shook his head as if in disbelief. “Leave me alone.” Martin finally said turning away. “I don’t know you and it seems like you’re one of those crazy people I don’t want to know.”

Lani’s power reached out to Martin and it felt warmth and comfort and it scared him. His power recoiled as his memory again tried to tell him this wasn’t what he thought it was. Desperate to not have a mental breakdown in front of this guy, Lani left. He ignored the screaming of his heart that told him to stay and went. But he was not giving this up. Something in his mind and something in his power remembered this man. He needed to know what it was. Damn Martin. Secretive and annoying. Who would ever want to put up with him?

He found the files and slipped inside. He had been here a thousand times and now his fingers raced through folders searching for Martin. The only one he found was a last name. Odion Martins. He frowned and had to hang on as a wave of pain hit him and he heard his voice. “I see an Odion and I love him.” Where the hell did that come from? Why the hell would he say something like that? This alternate reality skipping that he was getting must be screwing with his head more than he thought.

Lani didn’t sleep that night. Or the next. He didn’t see Odion either for the next few days. Finally he had no choice but to resume life as normal. He had a heist to pull. Slipping out had been easy and soon enough he was one the top of a roof. But as soon as he had his feet on the ground he realized he wasn’t alone. Self proclaimed Martin was sharing this roof with him. Lani could have sworn like a sailor if he wanted to give himself away. This was a delicate heist and he couldn’t have anyone screwing it up. “Get out of here if you don’t wanna go flying.” Lani whispered harshly across the space.

“I’ll do what I want.” Odion said.

“Flying it is.” Lani grabbed Odion with his power and again when they touched his power shied away. It was like something about that feeling that his power got when it touched him just didn’t sit right. It was too familiar for someone that he didn’t even know. “Just stay out of my way, Odion.” Lani said in frustration hoping the shock factor of knowing his name might do something to stall the redhead.

It did something alright but not stall. Odion closed the gap between them and a moment later Lani found himself nose to nose with Odion. “What did you call me?”

“Odion, that’s your name isn’t it?” Lani shoved Odion away disturbed by how his heart was fluttering being so close. “I’m on a tight schedule. Not all of us can control time.” Lani turned away before Odion could see the struggle on his face.

Odion made a sharp noise and Lani turned back to him. “What did you say?”

“How the fuck do you know that?” Odion repeated.

“I told you I know you.” Lani said his eyes narrowed. Did Odion know something he didn’t?
“Are you some sort of stalker?” Odion demanded.

“Obviously not, considering you’re on my rooftop.” Lani pointed out with a sly smile. He wanted to do his best to push this guy away. He couldn’t handle the crazy memories or the emotions that started to push out of his mind. Emotions and memories he had no source for. He turned away and looked off at the building he needed to be on. A hand closed on Lani’s arm and he jerked away the feel of Odion’s touch too much for his brain to handle. He whirled. “Don’t touch me.”

“You can’t know me. That’s not possible.” Odion asked his eyes strained and the mask of cockiness broken. The sudden openness of Odion’s eyes broke Lani’s resolve to leave it be.

“Then why do I feel like I know you?” He demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“What did you do?” Lani suddenly asked harshly.

“I don’t know! I don’t remember!”

“Why do I get so sad when you leave and so angry when I see you?” Lani cried desperately. “Why do I feel so empty? What the hell did you do to me?”

“You’re not supposed to remember!” Odion sounded more surprised than Lani was.

“Remember what?”

Odion looked at him and the expression in his eyes was unreadable, maybe somewhere between pain and anger. “We met before and then I went back and changed it.”

“Why would you do that?” Lani gaped at him. What had happened that was so bad that Odion went back and made it so they never met? And if he had done so, why did he still have these memories and why did he still feel this way?

“You asked me to!” Odion raged as if forgetting that Lani didn’t remember, or only remember a bit of what had happened.

“What?” Lani yelped. Why would he do that? A sudden panic came over him all those memories, the happiness of his heart, their kiss, all of it was erased because he asked them to not have met? His power grabbed at Odion wanting to hold him and never let go. He found himself with tears in his eyes for what he had lost.

“Lani,” Odion said approaching him with concern. “Lani. Wake up.”

Lani blinked at him confused and felt the warm hands on his shoulder and the next time he blinked he was in bed. He looked over at Odion with immense relief and then around the room. Oh thank god for their shitty apartment!

“You okay?” A weary Odion asked.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Lani sat up and gave Odion an apologetic expression.

Odion gave a little smile. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when your power starts poking me. Bad dream?”

Lani ducked his head. After all these years and he still couldn’t keep his telekinesis in check when sleeping. But nevertheless he nodded. The silence stretched on and Lani realized Odion was waiting for some kind of explanation. He forced out a laugh. “You know I don’t even remember it.”

Odion smiled comfortingly and Lani didn’t resist when he was pulled into a hug. “Oh well, it was just a dream.” Odion said soothingly. Lani smiled and snuggled closer to his love.

Thank God.

[Lucah Ivaskov]

#64. Muse

Calliope

Muse also known as an inspiration for artistic creation, whether it be drawing or writing, a muse was something important to any artist. The term sounded a little too creepy for Lucah, so he didn’t much use it, but he had one of his own. It had started out as his little sister, the light that had brightened his life as soon as she was born. And after she was ripped away from him, she was the reason behind his darkest writing. Now that things were calmed a little she had contributed to some of his writing, but she was no longer his muse. His muse had become the girl that he met a while ago. She started out as an acquaintance then to a friend and now, he was sure he could call her his girlfriend. It had only taken a few months of casual dates for it to become official.

His dorm room was cold as usual, a side effect of his power. His roommate hated it, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do. Callie often spent time at his dorm because she was always against him going to hers. Luc didn’t much understand it, but he didn’t mind kicking his roommate out to spend time with her.

It was another afternoon where they were lounging in his room, talking like they so often did and joking around. Of all the people he’d met, few were able to get him to joke around and laugh as much as Callie did. It didn’t matter what the subject was she had him smiling and laughing. Today they were stuck inside due to the weather being dreary and rainy. Lucah was sitting, leaning up against the headboard of his bed and Callie was curled up beside him. His focus, typically on her was now being directed to his notebook.

Callie watched him as he wrote so quickly and yet in such a beautiful fashion. She was surprised that a teenage boy could have prettier handwriting than most girls she knew. As she watched him, he’d occasionally glance over at her and smile before turning back to his work. Eventually, the blonde couldn’t take it anymore, “What are you writing? You’ve been working on this since I got here.”

Turning his attention to her briefly he shot her a small smirk, his arm wrapping around her shoulder, “Someone’s jealous of a notebook.” He smiled wider and kissed her cheek, “I’m just kidding. It’s just a song I’ve been working on for a few weeks. It isn’t near being finished, but it’s coming along rather nicely.”

She was a bit surprised at the answer she received. Calliope knew he was a fantastic musician whether it be guitar or piano he could play anything. She hadn’t known that he was a songwriter though. Singing was one thing, but writing a song with a chorus and verses and a bridge, well that wasn’t an easy thing to do. Though it wasn’t finished, she instantly wondered what the idea behind it was. What things inspired him to write full songs? It could have been anything. “A song?”

Luc nodded as he played with her hair, his whole attention span finally fixated on her.

Her heart rate sped a bit as his fingers grazed the side of her cheek, “What’s it about? Can I know?” For all she knew it could have been about his sister or his family life or something completely unrelated to her. She had an inkling though, a hope that it was something to do with her. It was a long shot due to the fact that he had so many other things to write about and yet, she continued to hope until he answered.

It started with that same little smirk he had before and he kissed her temple, “Well, it’s about a Greek symbol of poetic muse.” Looking down at her Luc waited for her reaction, hoping it would be a good one. After all, it had only been a few months that they’d been together, he wasn’t sure if it would be considered too soon or creepy even. If that was the case, he knew he was screwed, but he could hope.

“That’s what my name symbolizes,” She said looking up at him. It took her a moment until her eyes widened along with the smile that spread across her face. Callie looped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “You’re writing a song about me?”

Lucah hugged her, stroking her back lightly as he whispered in her ear, “Of course, you’re my muse.”

[Vincent Meian]

#32 - Choke



It felt like she was drowning. Out to sea with no life boat, nothing to see for miles except a sinking ship in the distance. Desperately, she clung to the only piece of security she had a held it tight, refusing to let go and be washed away by the uncaring waves.

The white-haired youth stared up at her father, her still babyish four year old face filled with sadness and broken hope as the older man and his wife played with their perfect son. But when the baby looked to her, the toddler's eyes grew wide and he giggled so beautifully that she couldn't help but smile and laugh as well, even when it only got her dismissive looks from her parents. In those moments, her parents would be forgotten, and all that mattered was the giggling little one that she could make smile.

Even when she was drowning, there was a bit of reprieve in the neglect, and Hatsuharu was that respite.

So it was that Nakia grew up - isolated, ignored, and largely clinging to her younger brother for comfort.


---


It felt like she'd been abandoned, coming home to that empty house so young and only seeing -only registering- that her mother's purse wasn't there on the counter.

There was no note.

There was no trace.

She was just gone.

When their father came home, the feeling of abandonment intensified as he withdrew into his work; fleeing the lives of his children and trying to find where his wife (misguided as she was) had run away to. He never found her because she hadn't wanted to be found.

The three of them had been left to drift away on the empty plane of the world, because she simply couldn't take it anymore.

So it was that Nakia and the remainder of her family were left in that tiny apartment, never to see Anya Eristov again.


---


It felt like she was choking, unable to breathe for the hands about her throat. Drifting at the edge of black and never tipping over, falling to the ground but never into the depths of sleep. This doesn't hurt, she kept trying to believe, keeping the tears from her eyes by force of will alone. This doesn't hurt.

Pain punctuated the dark, and she gasped, her delicate fingers still attempting the useless fight at removing the vice from her throat. She could barely breathe, and even when her blue eyes were open she could only barely see her attacker through the haze of pain. He tightened his grip, and even the minor amount of air was cut off with a squeak of discomfort. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see - not wanting to face the fact the she knew the man hurting her so badly. Not wanting to see the face of her father as he looked at her with cold rage.

It was enough, though - she was drowning, but there was a star in her mind, bright enough to outshine the shame. She was protecting that star with all of her might. And try as he may, the monster would never find it again, for she'd hidden it too well.

So it was that Nakia entered her teen years; abused by a man for his own failings, defending the one person she cared for more than anything in the world.


---


It felt like she was isolated, being banished to the far corners of the world without leaving the confines of the world of man. It was as if she wandered the Siberian tundra with only one soul for company, though the wind often sounded like voices and picked up snow to create the illusion of human shapes.

Attending Eisai Gakkō seemed like it would be no different from the high school she'd attended before, regardless of what the recruiter had told her. It was still filled with people who had been culturally ingrained with the need to feel superior in the perfection, those people who looked down on her because she was so pale and different and rose up her brother because he was so perfect and normal. Those people who always spoke so pleasantly when they absolutely had to talk to her, and who largely ignored her because she was a white blot on society. Those people who thought that she would never amount to anything because she was different, that she would never marry because no man would lower himself so drastically.

So it was that Nakia fought for her place in the world, struggling against the barren waste of her social world to emerge victorious on the other side with a degree in her hand and the knowledge and control to change the world.


---


She felt cold, like time had stopped and with it all the warmth had been leeched from the world. Her breath drew slow as her hands fluttered like doves over the body, a man barely her own age with a name she did not know and a history she couldn't guess. People moved at the edges of her vision, but slowly and with the consistency of a van Gogh painting. Colors swirled, lights flickered slowly, and her view was only on the man laying on the cold steel of the operating table.

He was the one that she had been assigned, this late Monday night while she covered for a nurse. Mondays were supposed to be quiet, calm, relatively relaxed; this man and four others had upset the balance, and she was desperately trying to correct it. Her cool hands touched his heated flesh with delicacy and softness, taking his life under her purview and handling it with the utmost care. Machines whirred and beeped, and instruments were handed to her and the surgeon as they searched for everything that was broken and mended the hurts. All the while, the man under her hands wept, even in his drug-induced sleep.

Don't choke, she reminded herself firmly. Just remember and let it flow. Don't choke. Her fingers danced at the edges of his face, calcifying breaks in the sharp foxish lines as aches blossomed in her own cheek. Light brushes found the clots and the tears, her voice clearly alerted the trained doctor before her of what she felt and knew, and her eyes scanned the ravaged mess for the next line as they struggled to save his life.

Her hand brushed the leg closest to her and time crashing back as she staggered - her similar limb had exploded with pain despite the fact that the man before her did not seem to be wounded there. The industrial tile tilted under her, but the ghostly woman retained her balance the minute her flesh left his and she righted herself to find the world at full speed once more. Steel flashed by and people chattered rapidly in a language that she understood but did not register. They hadn't noticed her stumble, nor his pain.

"His leg is shattered," she stated thickly, shaking her head as she pushed herself back into the fray. "That's where the bleeding is - that's why we're not getting pressure. We need to reset it, now!"

"Yes doctor!"

Glancing up to the surgeon, blue eyes flickered past to the window where they met gold. The gaze she found was worried and stricken, but strong and thankful. She gave the man a nod, and returned to her duties. She would need all of her focus and strength if the man under her hands were to survive.

So it was that Nakia saved one life and changed three forever.


---


She felt breathless, as if the sheer amount of emotion was enough to suck the oxygen from her lungs and make her head spin. Her face flushed, her eyes teared up, and her heart beat a rapid staccato in her chest. The adrenaline rush was almost more than she could take, and the minute her brother walked into the room she couldn't help but smile.

"Are you ready?"

"It's not my day, sis. It's yours." She laughed, shaking her head to hide the expression as she smoothed her pale hand over her custom kimono. It was the most beautiful thing she had every seen, and it was draped over her body for this special day, courtesy of her younger brother and oldest friend.

"He's waiting, you know."

"I know. I think... I think I might be dreaming."

He laughed. "If this is a dream, where's my actress girlfriend?"

So it was that Nakia laughed on her wedding day, made happy by the man who knew her best and happier still by the one who fell so far and so hard for her.


---


She felt like she was suffocating, so deep was the panic coursing through her body. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe - her fear was too great and her grief too overwhelming. The voice on the end of the phone was distant by now, and the device dropped to the end of the cord with a plastic crash as she plummeted to the linoleum with a harder, more muffled thud.

He was gone. Vanished off into the nothingness, with the implication that he couldn't come back. The second man in her life that she had truly loved, the one she had married against all odds. The one that gave her the strength to be a woman again. And he was gone.

So it was that Nakia learned of her husband's tragedy, and wept in the silence of her home for the unknown.


---


She felt like she was dying, the pain in her lower body and spine more than she could take. Even though they had given her a heavy dose of medication, everything still hurt beyond measure and the noise wasn't helping anything. She knew that she was crying and screaming even if she couldn't hear it, her cold hand grasped tightly to the bed frame.

"Just a little more, you're almost there."

She couldn't do this, but she had to. There was no other choice; this was happening, and it was happening now. Straining her body to its very limits, she leaned back against the pillow and forced herself to believe with all her might that she would not give up.

All at once, a weight was lifted completely, and soft, sharp cries reached her ears. Sweat poured down her face from the hours of pain and concentrated effort, but she blinked it away as the fire soothed to an ache. She turned her head, and smiled when she saw the doctor hand a small bundle to her brother, who cradled it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"Congratulations, Doctor," he whispered with a smile, his dark eyes bright with emotion. "It's a girl."

So it was that Nakia brought life into the world, and both light and darkness further into her life.


---


She felt like she was buried alive, smothered beneath the cloud of despair that threatened to engulf her life. Her life support cut off, her ability to care for herself or anyone else stripped away in the black depression that subsumed everything around her.

It couldn't end like this.

It's wouldn't end like this.

She needed help.

So it was that Nakia picked up the phone and called the one man she hated more than anything... the one man who could save her life.



Canon story - Dr. Nik Kenjutsushi, age 4-22

[Jayden Reed]

95. New Direction

Mia walked off stage, sweat beading down her forehead. The lights that had been beating down on her and heating her skin up for the past hour was gone, there was only cool air as she wiped her face with a fresh towel backstage. The performance was their best one yet, though that didn’t say much since Mia said that about all the shows. A lot had changed in the years from when she was in high school. She was happily engaged and touring the world with her fiancé and band mates.

Little did Mia know that Liam, her uncle was waiting back stage for her; Mia’s band Scripted Love was doing a ‘hometown’ show in Pilot Ridge, Vermont; where the band had started. Liam had come to see his long time adored niece’s face after years of her traveling. Mia walked into the dressing room where Liam was waiting, when she saw him tears filled her eyes, they hugged each other, a moment of embrace for the long separated relatives.

“I see that you have been doing well.” Liam stated, Mia merely nodded trying to find the words that filled her thoughts and heart. “You seem to have been doing well too. I’m sorry that I have been gone for so long.”

Liam shook his head “I understand, I was once in a band too, remember.” Mia laughed “I never forgot, I always loved listening to your tour stories when I was little.” Liam nodded “And I have loved your letters of your own tour stories.”

“I want to apologize for my teen years. I never realized how hard it had been for you, till I was able to look back on it, and see it from more than my own perspective. But even now I can’t comprehend how you must have felt.” Mia tried to apologize for the wrong that she had done to Liam, but there wasn’t a word that could make up for the hard time she had given the man that she had respect above everyone else. Liam sighed, “I know you’re sorry, I can’t describe how I had felt. But the important thing now is that your better and you’re on a new direction in life, with a new story to tell.” Mia smiled and nodded “things are different now, I’m better, the world seems to be in a better place. But I don’t want to be on this new direction of life without you with me.” Liam smiled “I will always be with you.”

{ooc: Please excuse my first attempt at doing one of these...}

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#50 – Camping

Fireflies flew around them, glowing to announce their presence before their lights flickered out, rendering them invisible against the night’s sky. The air was hot and muggy, the light breeze providing much needed relief against the suffocating heat of a Vermont summer.

Before them, the fire burned steadily, crackling with kindling. The marshmallow on the edge of Josh’s stick had charred to become almost entirely black, and the bespectacled man pulled it back to blow out the remaining flames. Then he took a bite, smiling in pleasure as the treat exploded with hot liquid goo into his mouth. “This is great.”

Sean’s marshmallow was considerably less blackened; he preferred browned marshmallows that still had a bit of firmness. “It is. This was a good idea.” Pulling his marshmallow black, he blew on it to extinguish the errant flame, and then to cool it a bit before eating.

“I told you,” Josh said, turning his smile over to the telepath. “It’s a wonder it took us so long to try this.”

“The past few summers haven’t been that conducive to camping,” Sean reminded him. The first summer after Josh had moved to Pilot Ridge had been ruined by the attack on Hammel, and the growing threat of Gabriel Underwood and M.S.A.D. The next summer, Josh had inexplicably stopped speaking to the telepath for the first half, and then they had had more pressing concerns after their reconciliation, followed by a hurricane. The last summer, they had taken their vacation with Greg to travel Europe. It had been a better use of their time, spending weeks sightseeing abroad, but then Sean had needed to return to Hammel for the summer session, and Josh had had his own work concerns. Then Sean had gone on the annual Hammel retreat, which had been more than enough camping and wilderness for the year.

Before Josh had moved to Pilot Ridge, camping had never been high on the list of their priorities when they shared their visits.

“That’s true,” the attorney conceded, nibbling at his marshmallow. “Even with the delay, I’m glad that we had the opportunity to do it this weekend.”

“Me too.” Once Sean’s marshmallow had sufficient cooled, he slid it off his stick and set it down on a graham cracker. “Do you want some?”

“Oh, yes.” Josh reached out with one hand to take a piece of graham cracker and a few squares of chocolate. “I’d almost forgot that we could make s’mores.”

“They’re the best part of camping.” The telepath wasn’t particularly fond of spending overnight time in the wilderness, and thus that wasn’t an exaggeration (brought on by his sweet tooth).

“Not the best part,” Josh protested with a shake of his head. “What about cuddling by the fire?”

“We haven’t gotten to that part of the evening yet,” which wasn’t a concession. They had a fireplace in the house, which Sean considered safer and more pleasant than a campfire. Primarily because the house was more comfortable for his back and knees than sitting on a stone or a log or in the dirt was.

Josh responded to that by rising from where he was before sitting down beside Sean, cuddling up close to him – although he remained mindful of the nearby fire. “You were saying?”

“It’s a close call,” the telepath said, smiling at his partner before leaning in to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. The attorney’s mouth tasted of sugar and chargrill, which were a perfect combination on a night like this.

[Joshua Bernstein]

55. Garden

The hospital was a cold, sterile place. She knew this was by necessity, and that exposure to germs that she could handle was dangerous for many of the patients. Even those who didn’t have autoimmune diseases were in a weakened state, so of course the staff would do what they could to minimize risk.

She still thought it felt unfriendly whenever she visited.

Though perhaps that wasn’t simply the sterility, and was due to the expressions the staff leveled at her. They were professional, there was no denying, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being judged whenever she walked those immaculately clean halls.

Today she clutched a flat, brown-paper wrapped package under one arm as she marched down the all too familiar hallway, knowing without the need to count just which door to pause at. She greeted doctors and nurses by name, though most of the responses were perfunctory and clipped.

Only Dr. Neville’s smile and good day felt genuine.

At least he was there. One truly caring doctor among the bunch. Or only one who wasn’t afraid; she couldn’t quite decide which was the real problem. Not that it mattered, when the end results were the same.

She knocked to announce herself, waiting for the wavering call of “Come in” before proceeding.

Just because she had permission from the front desk to come up (and she knew they warned him of her visits) that didn’t mean she wanted to just barge in. She would give him what privacy she could.

He was sitting up today, propped up against the pillows of what she was sure was the most uncomfortable appearing bed to be manufactured in the world today. And all that white, white sheets and pillows and white mattress cover, it only served to emphasise how impersonal the hospital was.

But there were flowers and cards on the bedside table, and a bottle of water next to a tray of some half eaten and probably cold by now meal.

“You’re eating today,” Her voice held approval. Some days he couldn’t eat, and that concerned her.

He nodded slowly, expression flicking toward the tray. “A bit. It’s nice to see you, Talia. I thought Matt was coming with you?”
“He caught a cold, and you know how they are about letting anyone remotely sick near you.” She replied, holding out the package. “But he sent this.”

Trembling, frail hands reached out to take the package from her, blue eyes brighter than usual with curiosity and some measure of improvement.

She hoped it was improvement.

She watched as he slowly tore open the package, carefully lifting out the painting that was inside.

A rainbow splashed across the canvas above a cheerful garden full of irises and roses, daffodils and periwinkles. Behind the flowers was a crumbling brick wall, barely visible through thick ivy.

And in the corner was scrawled To Josh. Because you can’t come out and see the garden Michelle’s been working on. Much love, Matt

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#41 – Magic

“A bit more nitrogen powder.”

“Won’t that make it explode?”

“That is the end-goal.”

“Okay.” Sean hefted the pouch and sprinkled a bit more of the powder contained inside atop the mixture. Then came the telltale crackling sounds as explosion became imminent. He glanced up at the older man, who appeared utterly unconcerned by the chemical reaction.

However, he did reach out to place one hand on Sean’s shoulder, yanking him back. “Give a bit of distance,” he warned.

Then came the explosion, followed by the expulsion of thick, black fog. Sean couldn’t see anything through the darkness. Although he knew better than to take deep breaths, and, thus, he was spared the otherwise inevitable coughing fit.

It took a few moments for the smoke to clear. When it did, Robert was on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s how it works.”

Sean nodded vigorously to communicate both that he understood what had transpired and that he also accepted the importance and the utility of the ability. “How many do you usually bring with you?”

“Anywhere between five and ten. I don’t use that many each night, but one must always remain cautious; it is better safe than sorry.”

Sean nodded again, taking copious mental notes on the topic. He then ventured, “What do we do with the creatures who can manipulate shadows?”

“That’s what the flash bombs are for,” Robert said with a smile. “There are few things on this Earth, or from beneath it, that can’t be defeated with a bit of human ingenuity.”

That was true. Under Robert’s tutelage, Sean was learning all manner of tools of the trade. Aim and accuracy with target practice, specifically with a crossbow. Several forms of unarmed combat, from martial arts to use of pressure points to traditional wrestling maneuvers. Calisthenics and running laps to increase his stamina, gymnastics to aid his balance, reflexes, and agility. Learning all of the properties of plants, animals, and minerals and how to incorporate them into medicines and remedies. Learning how to control his telepathy. Learning how to use technology to spy – cameras, covert microphones, anything upon which they could get their hands. And these science experiments to make them appear more powerful than they were.

They might not actually be able to turn invisible or teleport, but they could put on the show as good as the next creature.

“And for everything else, there’s magic.”

That piqued Sean’s curiosity, and the boy looked up at his mentor, expecting that they would segue into a new lesson or topic of conversation.

“The witches and warlocks have the upper-hand, of course, since that runs in their blood. But we aren’t entirely unteachable. And many of them are on our side, fortunately.” Except for the ones that weren’t, but there were ways to fight them as well.

To that end, Robert gestured towards his protégé, guiding him into the next room. Sean followed without question, and the older hunter opened up a book to a chapter. “These are the eighteen ancient runes. You need to memorize them so that you can utilize them.”

Sean peered at the symbols in the book. “I’ll study hard.”

“I’m sure you will.” Robert reached into his pocket and pulled out a pile of paper. “I made you flashcards.”

Human ingenuity, even in magic.