Hi! This next part follows B's arrival at the orphanage and how his first meeting with everyone goes. I'm not sure how I did on this, so please let me know! XD

Enjoy.

Something Wicked Part II- The Young Curiosity

The journey to the orphanage was uncomfortable and intermittent, but B was content to stare out of the car window and imagine what it would be like in his new home with the clever children. His wide eyes peered at the English countryside, watching it fly by and trying to count the lines in the middle of the road. He wondered if the other children would be able to figure out how many thousands of lines there were on the road from London to Winchester. If what Wammy said was true, they would. But when did adults ever tell the truth?

They pulled up to the biggest and most unusual building B had ever seen, old and quirky, with tall windows that would let lots of sunlight in and not leave the children in the dark like B had spent many of his days, hidden away from the world by his parents. His fingers tapped his knees impatiently, and he felt like getting up and running about to let off all this nervous energy.

"B, it's time to go in now," Wammy said. B didn't reply. "Don't worry. You'll get accustomed to things soon."

B nodded, and with a disconcerting silence, opened the door and leapt out of the car. After landing perfectly on his feet, he sprinted to the front door and banged on the front with both his fists, laughing. Wammy smiled and shook his head, and followed after the curious youngster.

"Hello?" B called. "Let me in, let me in, come on!"

"Be patient," Wammy admonished gently.

"But they are taking too long. Are they busy? They ought to recruit more staff so they can answer the door quicker to people who want to live here. It's simple."

"That's a good idea. But there aren't many staff who are able to look after such extraordinary children."

B had to agree, and when at last the door was answered by a female member of staff, he dodged straight past her and hurtled down the corridor. He heard the distant voices of children, shouting and playing. There was a wide grin on his face, but his eyes were as deathly expressionless as they had always been, awaiting answers and not expecting them.

"Come into the office first!"

At Wammy's voice, B immediately stopped, but didn't turn around. He clenched his fists, and pouted his lips.

"I want to see the children," he said quietly.

"Yes, but there are a few things to talk over before that. Come here, B, please." Wammy's voice was hiding a small inflection of wariness. He took a deep breath before turning the bronze handle of the door to his left, watching after the child.

B turned around, again with troubling speed, and ran back down the corridor, his blank visage not quite matching his swift movement. He measured Wammy for a moment, before deciding to pull the switch and turn on his smile. There had been a mirror on the aeroplane; it had made for good practice. There hadn't been any cracks. Thus his smile, in his own opinion, was verging on total perfection. Captivating others was a desire of his, and the smile helped, although he wasn't sure why some people recoiled.
The office smelled distinctly of dust. Wammy took a seat behind an ornately carved desk and put his hands together. B's instincts told him that Wammy was going to say something important or bad, from the serious, studying expression he wore, those scanning eyes, constantly judging him, constantly. So he judged back, scrutinising with narrow eyes. Though B was scrawny and small for his age, he faced Wammy with no trepidation at all, as if he were a fully grown adult.

Within five minutes, the logistics were sorted out. It seemed B would have his own bedroom, the fourth one along the corridor of the second floor. A round, blue and red stained glass window made for the only interesting part of his room, and a single bed lay underneath it, a plain blue duvet on top. There was a chest for his clothes- not that he had any- and a box for any toys he would acquire. B didn't play with toys, and he thought it interesting that they would put a box for toys in a place such as this.

"Will I get to meet the others now?" he asked Wammy at the door of his room.

"You can, if you'd like to. They are in the living room downstairs, playing."

"At last. Something interesting to do. I wonder how they will treat me." And I wonder when they will die…"By the way… Is my name really just 'B'?"

"Yes, for now. You are a very special child."

"How boring, yeah, really boring… Oh well!" He'd come up with something so much better.

B pushed past Wammy and made his way to the living room. While turning the handle, he pondered on how he had never heard so many voices all at once.
He was hit at once by the noise, the sights, the numbers and words above their heads.

Yes… so many deaths, all around him.

"Dead people, dead people…" he mumbled, habitually fixing his thumb in his mouth. "Yeah, you're all going to die."

"A new person!" one of the boys shouted. He was named Hamish Milner, he looked around seven years of age, and he would die in fifty-two years. His straw-coloured waves of hair framed two enormous cheeks, which enclosed a toothy grin. B was immediately repulsed, but said nothing.

The other children looked up. A few gave a nod of acknowledgement, and went back to whatever they were doing, and others nudged the person next to them and whispered things B couldn't hear. He grew angry that only one person recognised his presence. He ran over to one nine year-old Raine Sandyhill and kicked him over with surprising strength.

The boy tumbled to the floor, clutching his stomach, whimpering, and B tormented him from above, standing on his stomach and digging in his heel. He laughed while exercising his power, wearing dead eyes and a glimmering grin.

"Hi! I am B, and I'm your new housemate. Yeah, I know you don't like me, I can tell already, but I would recommend pretending to. It provides me with a good reason to be nice back. 'Cause I've never met any other kids, and this is fun, so don't spoil it by ignoring me!"

"Okay, okay, please, get off me!" Raine said, gasping.

"We are clear now. Good, that's good. Say hi to me, everyone!"

The children muttered in assent. They knew he was there now- he had made sure of it.

But one slightly older boy hadn't done a thing. He was sat in the far corner of the room, his face buried in a book, a pair of large spectacles balancing precariously on his freckled nose. B's eyes immediately flew to the top of his head. Floating there was the name Ace Shooter, which B conceded was not a fitting name for someone so scholarly-looking. He blinked away the numbers he saw that made his heart wrench just a tiny bit.
Somehow, he felt a seed of nervousness blossom inside him when he faced Ace, who looked up in mild surprise and gave him a smile.

"I'll pretend I didn't see or hear that incident just now," he began, and laughed. "I'm A. It's nice to meet you."

B extracted his thumb from his mouth and reached out with an apprehensive hand, index finger outstretched. A smiled wider and shook B's finger. He held it there, letting B know that he understood, though B couldn't read minds and find out exactly why A understood him.

"I do it sometimes," B mumbled.

"Do what?"

He withdrew his finger and wrung his hands together, shifting uncomfortably. "I get angry with people when… when they don't do stuff I expect them to."

Why did he have to be this way? Why? Why could he feel something unhinged in his mind, little bugs crawling inside his head, scratching away at him, begging to be heard, pleading with him to let them take over, twisting and turning his screws just for the fun of it.

"Why do you think that is?" A asked an unusual question.

"Well…" he said something inaudible, that faded away into the air.

"Look," A said, "If you stay with me, or where I can see you, do you promise you won't get mad and hurt the other kids? I won't let that happen again."

"But- yeah- A, you just did, right? Wouldn't that make you a hypocrite?"

"Maybe I am. I'm not smart at all; I don't even know why I'm here."

"No!" B snapped. "If you're here, then you're clever. It's what Wammy said!"

A smiled as if he were a little comforted, and went back to his reading. B sunk to the floor, cross-legged, gazing up at A with inky eyes of intense interest, and he remained silent and observant for the rest of the day, his thumb firmly placed in his mouth.