Damien (Page 10)
Just another boring day. It was always the same. Go through the motions of school, pretend you care about what you're being taught, blah blah blah. The only thing that even half interested me at this useless academy was the girls.
I slammed my gym locker shut with a loud bang, and some heads whipped my way before promptly averting their eyes. I had quite the reputation here; guys didn't mess with me, girls couldn't get enough of me. Plus there was that rumor about me murdering my parents and little brother. No one cared to actually ask me what had happened.
I nonchalantly waltzed out of the locker room and into the gym, Mr. Lance nodded to me. I never liked that guy. He seemed way too young to be a gym teacher—and there was just something about him I didn't like. I didn't want to be inside that guy's head. I didn't really want to be inside anyone's head, actually, and for the most part stayed out. Mind reading wasn't very fun when everyone regarded you with apprehension. Compulsion was pretty cool, though.
Time for some more dodge ball; I thought cynically, why did I choose to show up today?
I was amazing at dodge ball—any sport, really. Didn't mean I liked it.
I got on my side of the gym for boys vs. girls and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting.
"ALL RIGHT, STUDENTS!" Lance's voice boomed, causing everyone to get quiet. Could this guy get any more annoying? "Remember the rules, and absolutely NO abilities!"
Pffft. Like anyone really listened to that stupid rule. This was Enhancement Academy as in, enhancing our special abilities. School systems were so screwed up.
Lance blew his shrill whistle, and everyone started the game. I internally sighed, for a moment I contemplated compelling Lance so I could leave, but since I didn't know his powers or group, I decided against it.
Might as well play, nothing better to do.
So I did. I'm pretty sure I got more people out than anyone else in the entire gym—except maybe that roadrunner guy. He was a real weirdo.
I was getting seriously bored with this game, and seeing some of the other people using their powers when Lance wasn't looking . . . I might've gotten a little cocky. That wolf girl was getting a significant amount of guys out, and it was really starting to bother me. She bothered me.
I don't really know what it was, she wasn't bad to look at—she could probably be kind of cute if she stopped trying to dress like a boy; but I just didn't care for her. She was a loudmouth, and completely unstable.
Yeah, yeah, Nekos had it sooo rough; they had to constantly keep their emotions in check and all that—didn't care. She should have way better control.
I aimed precisely, and let a ball fly with full strength—another of my abilities—but damn her, she moved as soon as I threw it! She was a quick one, I'll give her that, but then something happened that I couldn't have predicted even if I'd tried. Instead of hitting some other person, it hit the one girl it shouldn't have. The Zero. Damn my luck.
The ball connected with her face before she even saw it coming, I cringed as she fell back and her head cracked against the hard marble of the gym floor—who makes a gym floor marble anyway?!—and every head whipped in her direction and stared. Oh crap.
Time seemed to stop as everyone watched her, and the wolf girl distantly called out. Lance was there in a second, peering down at her. I couldn't see her through all the people, but that blue hair of Lance's was unmistakable. He helped her to her feet, and she wobbled as if she was going to keel over.
I wondered if I could sneak out before Lance could spot me. . .
"MOYER!" His yell cut through the silence. I guess sneaking out wasn't an option. Shit.
He locked eyes with me just as the Zero drooped in his grip, unconscious. He picked her up and repositioned her in his arms, making her look like a little rag doll.
"Hall. Now." He said sharply, his eyes once again on me, "Nobody move an inch." He said to the rest of the class, going through the double doors.
Reluctantly, I trudged after him, feeling every eye in the gym boring into me—especially that wolf girls'.
Chapter 2 (Page 12)
"You are going to take her to the nurse immediately and stay with her every second until she is fully healed!" He snapped outside the gym. His gray eyes were almost silver with fury, and I wondered if he was going to hit me.
The Zero looked rough to say the least. Her ponytail was messy, and her long golden hair was matted with blood; it trailed down her neck and over her shirt as well as Lance's, she'd also left a nice puddle on the gym floor.
Her face was bruised badly, and her nose pointed at an odd angle—yet she looked serene. She was tiny and frail-looking. I was surprised the ball hadn't snapped her in half.
I slowly edged into Lance's mind, just for a peek.
.Shit. If the Headmaster finds out about this I'm toast—is this girl dead? Dear God I've got to clean this up—I'll kill this damn kid!
I abruptly pulled out as different images of him ripping me apart filled his mind. Knew I didn't want to be inside there.
"Get her to the nurse—NOW." He shoved her into my arms not-so-gently, and I took off to the nurse's office, trying not to jostle her too much. At least I wouldn't be getting expelled.
The nurse hadn't been too happy to see the Zero—Ember, she'd corrected—battered up like that, and apparently couldn't heal her completely until tomorrow. She got the bleeding to stop though, at least.
Mrs. Chub didn't like me, I could tell, but she seemed fond toward the Ze—Ember.
An hour felt like eternity as I changed back into my normal clothes; light blue t-shirt, jeans, and threw away my bloodied gym clothes. I didn't like them anyway. Lance had called me back to the gym to shove Ember's over-sized girl bag at me, and I got back to the nurse's as quickly as I could. I didn't want to give Lance the chance to make his thoughts a reality.
Nurse Chub had made me sit in the entrance to the office in front of her desk while she fixed Ember up. When Ember was awake and bandaged, Chub had sent me in to see her.
I entered the cramped curtained room, and my eyes quickly swept over her. She looked better—well, at least the bleeding had stopped. She had white bandaging over her face, and she was still caked with blood. She looked less fragile now that she was awake, though. Her deep blue eyes were clear, and captivating. It was like floating through the sky.
I saw her checking me out, too. She fidgeted slightly, and I could sense her unease. I had that effect on people.
"Here's your stuff." I said to ease the awkwardness, and set her bag on the small table next to the bed, "And sorry . . . about your face." I said lamely. I sucked at apologies.
"Yeah, it's fine—I'm fine." Her voice was surprisingly leveled, even in her injured state. I stared at her, not knowing what to say or do next, but feeling and odd sense of calm being near her. She felt . . . familiar to me.
She wasn't too bad to look at, either. I suspected guys would be all over her, if she wasn't a Zero. How unfortunate for her. I wondered how she dealt with it—I heard the things people said about her. If they even acknowledged her to begin with.
After a few moments, I became aware that standing there looming over her in silence was more than creepy, and left to get a chair from the lobby. Mrs. Chub gave me a quizzical look, but said nothing.
I returned to the room with the chair, setting it down next to her bed. She seemed surprised that I came back.
"I'm fine, really—you don't need to stay." She insisted, seeming completely uncomfortable. Her expression was comical—and kind of cute.
"Oh, I really do." I replied easily, "You weren't there when Lance flipped."
"Oh." Was all she said. She probably didn't know how else to get rid of me—that amused me to no end. She definitely wasn't a people-person.
I ran my hand through my hair, not knowing what to say, which was weird since I always knew what to say, "So . . . come here often?" Good job, Damien. You are so good at conversation.
"Um, sometimes." She replied in a small voice, clasping her hands together and staring at them as if they held the answers to life. Her black nails stood out harshly against the pale white of her skin.
"How come?" I asked, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to know what she was thinking. Before she could answer, I pushed into her mind—or, against her mind. It was like slamming against a solid rock wall, no matter how hard I pushed it wouldn't budge an inch.
Her face scrunched with pain, and I wondered if she felt me; I shoved one last time before she burst out, "Because I'm a Zero!" I flinched back at the unexpected outburst, and it took me a minute to realize she'd answered my question. Shame outweighed my new interest, and I dropped my eyes to the floor.
"Sorry . . ." She said slowly, her voice returning to its normal soft tone, "I uh, I'm going to go change." She carefully got off the bed on the side across from me, and I handed her her bag as she passed, still not looking at her. Why did I feel so bad?
Chapter 3 (Page 17)
She entered the room without me noticing. When she cleared her throat, I jumped up. She looked ten times better than when she'd left. Even with the bruising, she cleaned up nicely. Her black Monster t-shirt clung to her in all the right places, and though I preferred the shorty-shorts to the skinny jeans, she pulled them off in a way most people couldn't. She looked like a dark angel.
"I, uh, think I'm going back to my dorm." She said, and I once again got a nervous vibe from her.
"I'll come with you." I said a little too quickly, "And we can pick up lunch on the way."
She looked frustrated, "Thanks, but I'm fine. You can go back to class."
Class? Was she joking? The only good thing about this situation was me getting out of class. So of course, I said the most arrogant thing possible,
"Lance said to stay with you until you were healed," I motioned to her bruised face, "You don't look healed."
"I'm fi—" She started angrily, but I held up my hand.
"It's not like I have anything better to do."
I was such a jerk.
She looked me over with a sparkle in her eyes, and I wondered what she was seeing. I wondered if she thought I was a terrible person, like everyone else thought. She was a nobody at this academy—did she hate everyone? I would.
She finally sighed, closing her eyes momentarily and letting her long eyelashes brush her cheek, then turned on her heel and left the room. I followed closely behind her. She'd given up on trying to get rid of me.
"I'll talk to Nurse Chub; you can get us lunch from the Café. I like my steak-burgers rare." I said grinning, and winked. Then I went to talk to Nurse Chub, nothing she could do to get rid of me now. I liked to believe she found my cocky attitude charming—who wouldn't?
After I'd told Chub that Ember was returning to her dorm and I was escorting her, I went to find her. I sprinted down the halls to the Café, enjoying the confused expressions on the few people who saw me.
I figured Ember would be done getting food, so I took and emergency exit and dashed around the outside to the Café door. The air was chilled with the promise of approaching winter, but I didn't mind. The wind whipped around me as I ran. Strength was my main power—I was practiced with it more than my Psych abilities, and it was a constant thing I had to control, but I also had slightly enhanced speed as well as eyesight and hearing, as most Stealths did. It came in handy.
As the door swung open, revealing Ember carrying two Styrofoam boxes, I caught it and held it open. The startled expression on her bruised face was priceless. And if not for the pain killers, it probably would've hurt. I couldn't help the sly smile that slid onto my face, and my natural cockiness leaked out,
"You weren't trying to ditch me, were you?"
"N—no." She stammered, holding out one of the boxes to me, "I got your burger."
After I took it, she moved past me and I let the door swing shut. I matched her swift pace easily, which seemed to annoy her. I seemed to annoy her in general, now that I thought about it. Maybe she really did think I was a terrible person—she wouldn't be wrong.
"So, where are we going now?" I inquired, staring at her and holding my warm Styrofoam box in one hand.
A sudden gust of wind whipped her hair around her, and she flipped it back, but left some hang down over her shoulder as if blocking me from her view. She had some long hair.
"I," she said sharply, "Am going to my dorm."
Someone was getting cranky. I knew in my head I should stop pushing her, but I couldn't help it. That little voice most people had in the back of their minds to give them advice was unknown to me.
"Sounds good—you got a roomie?"
She didn't answer that, she just shook her head, letting more hair tumble over her shoulders. I said nothing, and after a moment, I realized why she didn't answer. Stupid. Of course she didn't have a roommate. No one would be willing to room with her. After that realization, I actually shut up. Totally un-Damien-like move, but I did. I kept my mouth shut.
The rest of the walk was just awkward. She said nothing, and I couldn't see her face to know if she was upset or not. I didn't know what to say—should I apologize? But it had been an honest question. I struggled with inner turmoil the entire time.
Finally, after what had to be 20 minutes, we arrived at her dorm. It was the farthest from the school, and it was at the edge of the school grounds; still far from the gate, but also far enough away from the other dorms that it looked separated from everything else. It matched the other dorms, yet stood apart at the same time.
She dug in her bag, pulling out her dorm key—no clue how she found it so easily in that enormous bag—and unlocked the door. I opened it and held it for her. Such a gentleman. That made up for my question from earlier, right?
I went in after her, and scanned the room quickly. She had a plain, black-sheeted bed push against the wall with the only window next to it with black blinds pulled shut, a gray metal desk in the other corner filled with books and an EA laptop, a small table next to the bed with a skeleton lamp, and twin black dressers on either side of the door. There were two other doors in the room, probably a closet and bathroom.
What really caught my eye were the walls. There were band posters everywhere, and what weren't band posters were pictures of bloody skulls or wilting roses. It was freakishly beautiful. I wasn't sure if I liked it or wanted to rip it all down.
Ember sat down on her bed, dropping her bag to the floor with a thud. I closed the door behind me and took a seat in the gray swivel chair at her desk. I immediately realized I was starving, and dug into the burger she'd gotten me. I chewed slowly, letting the warm, steamy juice slither over my taste buds.
Then the real Damien came back, "This is not rare."
She had been watching me, and chuckled slightly. That brought a smile to my face, her laugh was exquisite, "And why is it so dark in here?"
"I like it dark." She said simply. Boy, did she ever. I thought she dressed dark—it wasn't just her clothing, it was her everything. Everything was dark and demonic, but it seemed to clash with her bright attitude. At least, her attitude seemed pretty bright to me.
"I can tell." I pointedly surveyed her walls.
She didn't look at me, but instead nibbled at her food. How was she not hungry? She must've lost half her body weight in blood!
I let it go, and devoured all the food she'd gotten me. I wasn't picky, and the academy's Café actually had really good food. Only after I was done did I look up at her to find her once again watching me with . . . what? Interest? Curiosity? I didn't know. But I had to find out. I had to know what she was thinking. I had to.
I shoved with my mind with all the strength I had—which was a hell of a lot. But I couldn't get through. I kept pushing, expecting the barrier to crack. She fell back onto her bed and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her fists against her temples. The barrier wasn't easing. It wasn't even bending—this was completely unheard of. What was this?! She let out a whimper, and I pulled back. How did she feel that?
Sudden confusion and frustration clouded my vision, covering everything in an angry red haze. Before I realized I moved, I was digging my nails into her shoulders, "Why?! Why can't I access you?!" I demanded harshly.
Her face was a mixture of confusion and fear. She was afraid of me. "You're hurting me." She said, barely audible even to me.
I dropped my hands and backed up, horrified. What was wrong with me?
She sat up just as her door flew open with a cold gust of air.
"YOU SON OF AN OGRE!" Roared the wolf-girl. I mean roared in a completely literal sense.
Overwhelmed with disgust at myself, I didn't have time to move out of the way of a punch. She got me in the face, and I flew back against the wall. I admit; she really packed a punch. My feelings were pushed to the back of my mind as my fighting instincts took over.
I stood with a firm glare in place, watching the girl closely. I knew she had extra strength if she tapped into her wolf side, but I also knew that would drain her energy quickly. She was no match for me, even without my compulsion.
Her eyes glowed golden, and her lips were pulled back revealing sharpened teeth, it made her whole face look fierce and lupine. It didn't help her looks.
This time when she lunged at me, I was ready. I grabbed her fist and tripped her, "Stupid dog!" I realized a second later that yelling that was probably not the wisest decision. Admittedly, this Neko wasn't a weakling.
She bit into my leg, sinking her elongated teeth in with a sickening gurgle, I fell backward, letting out a painful cry, and grabbing a fistful of her hair.
"STOP IT!" Ember screamed, and we both froze, staring up at her. I'd forgotten all about her. Kira released her teeth from my leg the same moment I untangled my hand from her hair.
I had a feeling I wasn't the only one feeling ashamed. But why did I? She attacked me. I was only defending myself.
I couldn't deal with all these conflicting thoughts. I couldn't take the confusion. I quickly grabbed my empty Styrofoam container and Ember's full one, "I'll see you tomorrow, Ember." I said, only momentarily meeting Ember's eyes before leaving and closing the door behind me. I didn't want her to see the emotion I was sure was on my face.
Chapter 4 (Page 25)
I felt confused. Frustrated. Angry. Ashamed. More angry. Guilty. And many more emotions that I didn't want to feel. What was with me? Feeling bad about things wasn't like me at all. I never felt bad. What had that girl done to me?
And that Wolf—damn that wolf. It was a good thing I was a fast healer, or my leg would be causing me some serious problems. I laid back on my bed in my empty dorm—yes, empty. I'd compelled the dorm-chooser person a while back to let me have my own. Roommates were pesky.
I took another swig from the bottle of whisky in my hand, letting it burn all the way down my throat and ease my pulsating leg. I'd cleaned it up and wrapped it, but it still hurt like hell. Not that I hadn't deserved it; I'd almost really hurt Ember—but the wolf girl hadn't known that. Well . . . in reality, I probably deserved it from hitting her in the face with a ball in the first place, but still. It was uncalled for. That stupid girl followed Ember around like a lap dog.
A nice numbness was starting to settle over me as the whisky finally took effect, but my mind was still on high-alert and racing.
Why couldn't I read Ember's mind? She was just a Zero. What did she feel like, being ignored and outcast by everyone around her? Why did I feel bad for upsetting her? Why did I care?
Care?! No. No, Damien Moyer didn't care about people. He didn't worry about hurting someone's feelings, and he most certainly didn't stay up at night thinking about anyone!
I chugged the last of the whiskey and threw the bottle at the wall, where it crashed and shattered into a million pieces.
I ran my hand back through my hair. What had that girl done to me?
You know the answer to that, some cruel and sadistic part of my mind whispered.
Images, hot and fast, flooded my head and flashed before my eyes. Memories tumbled out of balance, and it was like I was re-living my worst experience over again. No . . .
I was just 10, living in a shitty neighborhood outside of town. Things . . . weren't so good at home. I was always happy to go to school, because it meant less time to be at home. Anything was better than being home. Anything. My parents were terrible. My mother was mostly gone, working some dead end job, but my father . . . he was always home. He was a monster. He was a dead-beat drunk. Not just that, but a powerful Psych with telekinesis.
He was abusive. I hadn't yet awakened to my powers; my younger brother and I had both been tested, and we'd come out positive Zeros. We weren't supposed to have powers, ever. My brother was only seven, and he was my world. He was my companion, my only real friend. I had to protect him . . . I did my best when I could, but my father hated us. Hated us for being different. My mother didn't try to stop it. She never even tried.
One day, Kris and I had come home from school; dad was drunk out of his mind. I told Kris to go to our room, he didn't listen. My dad used his power to slam me into the wall, smashing a framed photo of him and mom from their wedding day. I could still feel the throbbing in my head. Kris tried knocking dad down, but he was just a little kid. Doing that only enraged dad further, and he went after Kris. He didn't even use his power, just grabbed him by the neck and slammed his tiny head into the wall over, and over, and over, and over again . . .
I was crying. No, I was sobbing. Even through the tears I could see the blood. I tried to pull dad off, make him let go, but he ignored me. I was too weak. I begged, pleaded, pounded my fists against him but he didn't stop. The blood didn't, either. There was so much blood . . .
I could still hear Kris' screams, and then his silence as his head lolled to the side. Only then did my father drop him to the floor, seeming to not even realize what he'd done. I ran to him, but there was nothing. His skull was cracked open; there was so much blood . . . something snapped inside of me. I was overcome with a blind rage so powerful it swept through my insides and ignited them with a white-hot fire. The next thing I knew, I was on my dad. I was punching his face, punching, and punching, and punching. And . . . his face was breaking. He was bleeding. His face seemed to contort with each punch and dent his skull inward, I kept going. I didn't stop until his face was unrecognizable, blood soaked my shirt, my hands, my face, splattered everywhere. He was bleeding everywhere. He was dead.
It wasn't until later I realized I'd gained enhanced strength.
When my mother came home, I compelled her without even realizing it. I remember my words; "You need to die!" She'd shot herself moments afterwards.
I was found a few days later, when the school recognized my brother and my unexcused absences; I'd been huddled in the corner, still covered in my father's blood.
My brother was dead. My whole family was dead, because of me. My mother and father deserved it. But my brother . . . my brother should have lived. He should not have died.
Stealth powers were supposed to be born with; no one knew why mine came late. I was told my Psych powers had held them back.
The paramedics and police hadn't blamed me; it was self-defense. That's what they had said. I was later put into the care of the Headmaster of Enhancement Academy.
I jolted upright in my bed, the wounds from that night eight years ago opening back up again. My brother . . . had been a Zero. I would never know if his test was wrong.
I was supposed to be a Zero.
A realization dawned on me, why I felt the need to protect Ember. Why I cared. Never speaking to her; I'd been able to ignore that fondness. But now that I'd hurt her, now that I'd talked to her . . . I couldn't ignore it. She's like Kris.
I curled my legs to my chest, eyes open but unseeing. I spent the rest of the night holding back the sobs that racked my body with every shaky breath.
I was never drinking again.