The waves crashed thunderously against the jagged sides of the cliffs with timed precision. Even from deep inside the cave, Tom could hear the violent sounds; unstoppable nature pitted against unstoppable nature. It soothed him, those sounds; its cadence matched the angry rhythm of his own inner force.
He closed his eyes and listened. It seemed that that the force within him expanded and contracted with the movement of the ocean. Unstoppable; barely contained by his own physical body, by his own mental barriers. If he were to let go, were to exhale all that power with the force of his breath, would he disappear? Or would he join with the ocean? Become more? Could he control even the ocean?
Tom breathed evenly, wanting to test the limits of his power but hesitant to truly let go. What if he did disappear? What if he did become nothing? His fingers quivered, and he clenched his fists, nails digging painfully into his palms, disgusted by his own weakness. His power swirled around him reactively as though cognizant of his misgivings and seeking to reassure him of its inalienable presence.
The cold air and moisture coating his skin made him feel human, feel there. He only welcomed that grounding feeling during times such as this when he was very aware of his mortality. Breathing deeply, he allowed himself to properly feel the dank cold of the cave. Under the thin inadequate layers of clothing, all the hairs of his arms and legs were raised. The icy air was uncomfortable, bordering on painful with each pull of air through his nose. A warm drop of something landed on his forehead and trickled down the bridge of his nose.
Tom looked up from where he was sitting in his cross-legged meditative position.
Deep in thought, he had quite forgotten his unwilling companions. They were suspended above him, slowly revolving, the boy and girl trussed together by invisible ropes. Tom wiped off the tear that had fallen on him and surveyed them with disgust.
Pathetic.
Although it had been fun at the beginning, watching and hearing them squirm and beg and finally scream; even if he had grown bored of that and eventually silenced them.
Tom would never, ever beg for anyone's mercy. Ever.
The girl was still silently crying, her face red from hanging upside down. The boy was drifting in and out of consciousness. Tom considered leaving alone. But if he returned without them, there would be questions. People had seen them go off together, and Mrs. Cole had her suspicions about him and never really swallowed his quick excuses like the others did. She could make his life very difficult. And his life was easy now. Not good, but easy.
Besides, he did like having the other children afraid of him. It was fun.
He looked up at the pair again and wondered briefly whether he would find their rotting corpses still dangling when he returned, if he did leave them there. And that image made him chuckle and almost walk away right then.
The sound of his laugh travelled and multiplied eerily throughout the cavern. The boy came to again and started screaming.
With a lazy wave of his wrist, Tom returned their voices. Immediately, terrified high-pitched screams filled the air. Tom frowned and with another flick, there was silence again. "I'm going back now," he said, and his childish voice echoed back at him from the darkness. "If you don't want me to leave you here, you'll have to convince me to take you."
Their voices were returned again.
The girl spoke first. Through sniffles and loud hiccups, she promised Tom anything, anything. The boy joined in. What did Tom want? They would do anything.
Tom rolled his eyes. Did they not realise how boring they were?
He loosed his hold on them and they fell unceremoniously onto the smooth pebbled ground. Tom watched them disentangle themselves and face him, each trying to hide behind the other. Their glistening large frightened eyes peeked out from their pallid faces.
He beamed at them, delighting when they inched back. "Break her arm," said Tom, through his smile.
"What?" they stuttered, clutching at each other.
Tom gestured. "You said you'd do anything. Prove it. I want you…" He pointed to the boy. "…to break her arm." His finger moved to point to the girl. She dissolved into another round of sobs.
"I-I don't know how…" the boy stuttered. His blotchy face was a picture of unsophisticated misery. "Please, Tom, we're sorry…"
Tom stared coldly at the pathetic whining boy. Of course, he wouldn't do it. Give these animals a little mercy and they stop taking you seriously. How short their memories were.
He turned away and started walking back to the mouth of the cave.
The blubbering increased in intensity. "Please Tom, no, I'm doing it, I'm doing it…"
There was the sound of scuffling and punching and howling. Tom turned to watch with interest. The older boy was hitting at the younger girl as she screamed dramatically and lay where she had fallen, making no attempt to defend herself.
With how half-heartedly his orders were being carried out, there was little chance of her arm breaking.
Tom walked back to them.
"You'll need a rock," he said softly. He pointed to the edge of the lake. "Over there."
Two pale, dirt and tear streaked faces turned up to look at him, and then at where he was pointing. The boy swallowed, the sound distinct from the fading echoes of Tom's voice. He straightened up slowly and then gasped and cowered back again.
A girl had appeared right at the spot by the lake.
One moment there was blackness and more blackness, and then the shadowy form of a girl had materialized. For it was undoubtedly a girl: long black hair and lace and pale limbs stumbling and collapsing with a startled 'huh'.
That surprised sound was repeated by the watching group.
In all of Tom's admittedly short life, he had seen a lot of things, had made a lot of things happen, and fancied himself the type not easily spooked, but this was the first time he had made another human appear just by pointing. Except he knew he hadn't made her appear. Tom had never made anything happen by accident, at least not since he was seven and realised that he had to master himself if he was going to survive in this bland, friendless world. He had not called for her, had not even been directing his forces, which lay right now just under his skin, excited and curious.
The girl was scrambling up even as he was striding curiously forward.
"Who are you?"
"Where am I?"
They both spoke at the same time; him imperiously, her bemusedly. Their voices clashed harshly and echoed across the placid waters.
She did not look nearly as shocked or afraid as she should be for having appeared inexplicably in a dark cave, although Tom knew that such feelings sometimes took a while to register. No doubt she would be hysterical and incoherent in a few minutes. Before that, however, he was going to make sure he got all the answers he needed.
Answers to questions that were rapidly forming in his head now. Questions such as 'What are you?', and 'Why are you here?' and 'How did you do that?' and many more besides.
The girl appeared younger than Tom- maybe a year or two younger. Her hair was as black as his, but she had green eyes. They glittered reflectively in the darkness from a pointed porcelain face. Her long black hair was tied back in a red ribbon. Her lace dress was red, and she wore a gold bead bracelet on one wrist. She looked well-fed and pampered.
She was everything Tom was not, likely had everything Tom did not. But if his instincts were right, she was also special like him.
His chest tightened in that familiar clench of envy and resentment. "Who are you?" he said again, his voice laced with his vitriol.
She was scanning him quickly, taking him in. She opened her mouth to speak. Then her eyes darted behind him to where his two forgotten victims were still shivering and sniffling and trying hard to look like they were a natural part of the cave.
He saw the fear seep into her eyes and tighten her mouth. It curved her lips downward.
There it was.
"Who are you?" Tom pressed, urgently.
She scrunched her eyes shut, ignoring him. "Home," she said. "Homehomehomehomehom…"
Tom knew what was about to happen.
"No," he hissed, lunging forward to grab her by the wrist. His fingers caught in her bracelet, she yanked her hand back, the bracelet snapped, and then she was gone, leaving Tom holding a broken gold line of falling beads.