The Man in Blue

The Claudia Belle Series

C. S Luis

THE MAN IN BLUE

THE CLAUDIA BELLE SERIES

FIRST PUBLISHED 2017

ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS PUBLICATION ARE FICTIOUS AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL.

Copyright © 2017 by C.S LUIS

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission from the author.

First Edition: April 2017

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN: 13: 978-1542507882

www.FACEBOOK.COM/THECLAUDIABELLESERIES

TWITTER: @CSLUIS2

Special thanks to Stephen Anderson & Kay C. Sulli for their contributions.

Blurb

“How will you make him believe?” Selena bravely asked as Quentin glared back over at her, his lips spreading into a wide smile as I pondered what she meant. She was quite brave it seemed. It didn’t appear that anyone ever challenged or questioned Quentin.

Quentin gazed over at me, his hand found my cheek and he stroked a portion of my hair back.

“My Pet-tricia must awaken from within---only then will he realize he was wrong,” Quentin said.

“Only then will he realize his mistake.” A strange smile spread over his face, he seemed lost in his thought. What was he considering?

“But all in due time.”

“For now, I must do what I can to make her remember me.”

Contents

The Extraction

1. The Extraction

2. The Man in Blue

3. The Belle’s Ring

4. The Connection

5. The Arrival

6. A New Home

7. Claudia

8. Claudia Belle

9. High School Acquaintances

10. The Man in The Black Suit and Red Tie

11. The End is always the beginning

12. Michael McClellan

The Arrival of the Man in Blue

1. The Man in Blue

2. John Slater

3. Claudia Belle

4. New man on campus,

5. Michael McClellan

6. Dr. John Black

7. Milton high in Mourning

8. John Slater

9. Being Dr. John Black

10. Claudia Belle

11. Dr. John Black

12. Miss Claudia Belle

13. Dr. John Black

14. Claudia

15. Dr. John Black

16. Claudia Belle

17. Dr. John Black

18. Alexandra Burton

19. The Eerie Sound

20. Claudia

21. Dr. John Black

22. Dr. John Black

23. Claudia

24. Dr. John Black

25. Claudia

26. Dr. John Black

27. Claudia

28. Dr. John Black

29. Claudia

30. The Mysterious Quentin

31. The Morning After

32. Michael

33. Claudia

34. Dr. Black’s Office

35. Dr. John Black

36. Claudia

37. Alex

About the Author

Also by C. S Luis

The Extraction

1

The Extraction

30 years earlier---In a secret facility, location unknown…

“Maya,” the voice beckoned.

Maya opened her eyes to find herself alone, but she heard the voice as clearly as she saw the linen sheets covering her body. She sat up and looked around the empty white room. It was a tiny room, a cell, just like the many other cells lining the outer hallways from each side of the corridor. She knew its dimensions by heart. She saw it in her dreams when she wandered alone, unseen, lost and searching. Searching...

“Maya,” the voice hissed.

“I hear you” She responded. “And I feel you.”

This time, the voice was as soft as a whisper: “Then come to me.”

She pulled the sheets away, lowered her legs out of the bed, and sat there upon the side of the mattress, glaring at the glass entrance and the white walls. Nothing about the appearance of her room coincided with a typical cell, but it was still a cell, and she was its prisoner. Her bare feet touched the cold marble floor.

She was dressed in a white uniform, with red lining the outer side of her pant leggings and collar. She didn’t know what that meant. Color seemed to indicate something about her place among those here. There were strange markings on the side of her cotton-sleeved garment. They seemed to signify a rank. She felt like a zoo animal looking out of the glass as she took a step forward and came to stand before it.

“Come to me, Maya. Please,” his voice begged. “I need you more than ever. Don’t let them keep us apart any longer. I want you close. Come to me. Please.”

How many days had it been? How many years? She tried to count them by the markings that lined the side of her bed. There were 17 maybe 18, she couldn’t be sure.

“How? I can’t--” She began to beg, but then her lips froze as she heard his voice again. It was so clear. So vivid.

“Yes, you can. You have far more power than you realize. Trust me,” he said.

She wanted to ask, why now? Why her? She could feel it in herself: the urgency to be with him. Was it destiny? Was it a link? A connection? What was pulling her forward on this path?

Her head spun around toward the other end of the corridor; a few lamps lit the hallway from each end, making it difficult to clearly see the inside of each individual cell across from her own. She was sure they were all asleep; she couldn’t sense them as she could sense him, but if they were awake, she’d be able to hear their thoughts.

Above the cell glass entrance was a red light, a sort of alarm system that would alert them if she tried to open the door.

“Don’t be afraid,” the voice called.

She put a hand to the glass, and at once, the red light above became green. Then, slowly, the door opened. She hesitated, waiting to hear sounds from both the guardians that patrol the corridors or the sirens that would warn them of her escape, but nothing happened. And once she felt comfortable that no one was coming, she took a cautious step forward towards the entrance, standing very still at the doorway.

“Maya, hurry. There’s no time to waste,” the voice hissed.

She sensed it traveling down the corridor, so she sprung from the doorway and into the dim hallway to follow it. She felt it ride up the vent over her head at the end of the corridor. The metal door in front of her was large, and there would be no point in trying to open it when there was a better way. Above her, the vent began to rattle; the screws slowly popped out and fell, each one landing lightly with a thud in her right palm. Then the lid popped and dropped over her.

She caught it quickly with both hands and placed it on the floor. She then quickly leaped high into the air and inside the tiny opening, disappearing into the darkness.

“I’m coming,” she whispered.

Her senses would lead her to him.

The vents were like a labyrinth of twists and turns, opening to lead into other rooms and other corridors with guardians walking the dim halls, looking for those curious little ones like her out of bed. She didn’t like those brutes. They wanted to do naughty things to her and the others. But he wouldn’t allow it, and neither would the men in the black suits, the ones carrying metal weapons that they called guns.

She crawled into the vents, struggling as she did, managing a few turns at a time. Her face and clean white uniform both became covered in dirt. There was no time to waste as she moved on her belly, struggling to the sounds of things she feared. Ahead his voice continued to whisper, “don’t be afraid…”

She knew there were only two things to fear: being alone in that cage, that cell, and never being with him, never seeing him, never feeling him as she had once hoped to.

“Yes, my love. Once you are here, we will be together forever, and no one will ever separate us,” his voice encouraged.

She had never seen him, but she knew him. In her dreams, she knew him. He was always there in her dreams, but it wasn’t the same as physical contact. Their union was in spirit only, and it was a union she longed for, but one that angered him each time—for he could not be with her as she knew he desired.

She stopped as her sleeve became caught in the side of the vent wall; a nail ripped at her uniform, and she tried to pull it away but was having a hard time doing so. Then, in her struggle, she heard voices. A vent nearby carried the sound up to her.

There were two men talking somewhere beneath her. She pulled at the sleeve until it finally came away, ripping her uniform. She pushed on towards the vent where the voices were filtering through and lay flat on her belly pressing her face against the grates.

The room beneath her was large and white with a lot of equipment, and there was a container holding a figure within it. A slim figure dressed in a leather, scaly uniform was inside the container. The figure was clearly visible; even through the foggy glass. His dark hair was matted, and his skin was as pale as paper. He seemed to be in some kind of suspended animation or in a deep hibernation state of sleep.

She put her hand over her mouth—it wasn’t her beloved it, the voice that summoned her, this position, but she still felt like she knew him.

“Careful,” the lab assistant warned. She watched as the other man carefully took a sample from the mechanical arm.

A man in a white lab coat wearing a black shirt and red tie delicately dropped it onto the slide so he could arrange it under his microscope. Then, he reached over for the pipette filled with another substance.

He watched, waiting.

“They’re splitting!” The lab assistant exclaimed.

The embryo had split. Carefully, the man in the white lab coat lifted the petri dish to move to the next phase of the experiment. Maya caught sight of what appeared to be synthetic wombs. Beneath the microscope, he grasped one egg and then the other, settling them into separate synthetic uteri. The embryo seemed to attach almost immediately.

“Congratulations Dr. Nicholson. It appears the embryos have implanted.” Said his lab assistant. Maya didn’t like the man in the white lab coat. She sensed malice rooted deep in his heart.

“Perfect,” the man in the lab coat said. Maya could see he was preoccupied with the samples in the womb as they grew rapidly.

“This can’t be! It’s impossible--It’s growing rapidly, like I’ve never seen before. Do you realize what you’ve created here, Sir? We must inform The Company immediately…”

But the man in the white lab coat didn’t seem surprised. It was hard for Maya to gauge his full reaction from up in the vent.

“At the rate it’s growing, we can have a full-grown child within hours. This is monumental—” The lab assistant rejoiced. She couldn’t understand why the other man wasn’t as excited at the amazing sight; something troubled her about the man in the white lab coat. It seemed he didn’t like the idea at all. And she feared she knew why.

The lab assistant turned away, prepared the samples, and proceeded to extract the remaining test tubes, when suddenly, from behind, the man in the white lab coat picked up a metal box and swung it hard to the back of his head. The lab assistant dropped limply to the ground, instantly dead. The other man had not suspected a thing from his quiet employer.

Maya managed to stifle a cry with her hand over her mouth. She watched as the man in the white lab coat walked over to the container and glared at the form inside.

“You’ve served your purpose,” he said, and then he swung the black metal box against the side of the panel, destroying the keypad. Maya watched him smash it repeatedly until the pad was sparking and smoking.

Maya wanted to scream, wanted to do something, but she was stuck hiding in the vent. The man in the white lab coat suddenly darted his view up to the vent, and gasped as she sensed their eyes meet in the obscured shadows. She was sure he was looking right at her, staring very hard into her deep dark eyes as he smiled up at her. For a moment, she couldn’t move; she laid there frozen, her lips still trembling as she stared into his cold eyes.

The man in the white lab coat gathered the synthetic uteri carrier, a large glass case, and moved away, tipping over chemicals on his way across the lab. It rose in flames, destroying every last bit of evidence.

Then, an alarm sounded and lights began to flash everywhere; a voice began to sound throughout the corridors. The man spun around and darted out of the room with his metal box. When Maya was sure he was gone, she started hurrying to the destination where she had been headed to before this strange scene captivated her attention.

Alarms rang out. Red lights flashed urgently from everywhere; she trembled as she reached an area she had never been before. She knocked open the vent and dropped down, looking all around; in every direction, she found containers housing figures, all in a state of hibernation or sleep, just like she had witnessed in the other room.

“Maya.” She heard him, and she started moving swiftly through the containers that rattled as she stepped past them.

The alarms continued to sound, and a female computer voice soon came from all around:

“Alien life forms have been detected. Alien life forms have been detected in the proximity of sector 10. Possible contamination breached.”

She hurried, sensing him closer than she ever had. She had to stop for a moment, so weakened by the emotions running rapidly inside her. He was drawing her near. The containers continued to rattle, and she feared they would explode. But she couldn’t stop the senses driving her mad, so she took a step closer. They had been kept apart; all her life she had only sensed him, communicated with him through strange devices, through thoughts, but never had she felt him in her arms.

She dropped to her knees. Behind her, she heard a container crack, then another, and she spun around, watching as the rest began to smoke and shatter. A smoking icy mist now covered the facility.

The voice on the intercom spoke again:

"Alien life forms detected in the holding facility. …Alien life forms detected in the holding facility. Containers 5, 6, 3, 2, 9, and 4 have been breached. Containers 7, 8, 10—have been breached. CODE RED! All containers in the proximity of sector 12 have been breached! All containers in the proximity of sector 12 have been breached!"

Maya slowly looked around and saw them for the first time. They were beautiful. Their pale faces were crowned with matted locks of hair, and all of them were dressed in dark leather scaly clothes. She couldn’t stand as they came to surround her, but she wasn’t afraid; there was no fear, only desire in their purple eyes. She could feel the desire, but she was not theirs to have.

“Maya.” She heard his voice as he leaped before her and now stood in front of her, extending his hand. The other pale beings scattered away, vanishing into the misty corridors of the building, darting into the shadows to wreak havoc on their captors and find their own kind.

“Maya!” She looked up at him, his eyes so inviting, large, and rewarding.

“We’ve been kept from each other for far too long, my love,” he whispered. She reached for his hand, and he pulled her to him, gripping her tightly in his embrace. He hungered for her, but his strength kept him from ravaging her. He gasped, merely squeezing her close, tracing his face down her neckline, and savoring her scent.

She collapsed in his arms, not sure why she was so weak. She couldn’t resist him, and she could sense his desires long before she found the image of herself beneath him.

Suddenly, the intercom went off again:

“Alien life forms detected in sector 10. All prisoners’ cells have been breached!”

The alarms continued behind them; they were in the quarters of her sisters. They were freeing her sisters, but she wasn’t afraid for them.

“I’ve waited for this moment for far too long, to feel you in my arms, to have you by my side. My beloved Maya, they will pay for keeping us apart.”

He lifted her in his arms, gazing towards the ceiling above.

“Burn it down! Destroy everything!” He screamed. The ceiling above fell away, and through the gap, Maya could see other beings were ascending into the sky, and with them, they carried girls she had known as a prisoner in this place: friends and sisters.

“Mates,” Quinn corrected, and then he darted into the skies himself, holding her tightly in his embrace, tearing through the remaining ceiling wall. Maya only saw the building, her prison, one last time as it burned and exploded. The skies were crowded with the angels of her dreams, and she closed her eyes, letting the protective arms of her lover carry her away.

2

The Man in Blue

February 2011, a year earlier, somewhere in Chicago, Illinois, in an undisclosed location

A black Lincoln pulled into a dark deserted parking lot of an abandoned building; a black SUV and two dark green hummers followed it. Immediately, two men dressed in black suits emerged from the Lincoln's rear door. Next to them, a squad of 10 men, equipped with assault rifles and military gears, stepped out of the two dark green hummers. From behind, a white van stopped, and two other men wearing lab coats jumped out. At once, two of the squad troops retrieved a large incubator from the back of the white van. They carefully set it on the pavement.

"Tell me where?" A man in a dark blue suit asked, speaking into an earpiece pinned to the side of his ear.

He emerged from the front passenger seat, wearing dark tinted sunglasses. He removed the eyewear, narrowing his large green eyes up at the building with a smile, as the squad of troops raced towards its entrance.

"The building seems empty," the man in blue said. At once, another man's voice answered from the other end of the receiver.

"We both know appearances can be deceiving.” There was a brief silence. “Secure the building and report back."

"As you wish,” the man in blue replied, moving forward and directing the two troops carrying the incubator to move out.

Two men from the unit grabbed a hold of the incubator and walked towards the entrance as the squad sergeant led the team inside the building.

The other two men in black suits glanced over at the man in blue, and although they liked to voice their opinions regarding his procedures, they dared not say anything as the troops disappeared into the dark entrance and were lost within its confinements. The man in blue was in command, and they knew it.

Inside, was a long stretch of hallway cluttered with old school textbooks, empty desks, and papers and trash soiling the floor. The troops moved down the dark corridor, checking each approaching room one by one, sounding the ‘all clear’ as they did, and then moving on to the next hallway. Debris and signs of a place once alive with the sounds of children filled the empty hallways. Oddly enough, there seemed to be the echo of such a life still throbbing within its walls.

"Sir, we're approaching the foot of the staircase leading up to the second floor." The staff sergeant’s voice echoed through the earpiece.

The man in blue stood at alert, the smile on his face spread as he moved forward; yet he dared not enter. The men in black glanced in his direction, wondering whether he would risk entering without a team and if they would be forced to follow.

"Proceed to the second floor,” the man in blue ordered.

"Copy that. Proceeding to the second level." The staff sergeant responded and signaled the team forward.

An occasional movement distracted the oppressing silence. Another room cleared and far ahead the hall stretched as the team moved in two lines on each side of the hallway, assault rifles drawn, shoulders up, and faces concealed by military gear. They moved through the darkness, their night vision scope on their masked faces, led only by a single electric compass guiding the way.

"We're approaching the second-floor hallway now…we're getting signs of activity coming from the end of the hall. Advice?" The staff sergeant asked.

"Proceed with caution,” the man in blue answered. He glanced towards the open window, through the darkness of the building from the outside where he stood; he could distinguish the squad's searchlights.

He moved forward, aware that the men behind him were wary of his advances.

"Wait for them to make contact," one of them voiced. He glared back at them, nearly growling angrily as if he dared dart in after them. That would be suicidal. Besides, he knew the procedures; this wasn’t his first mission, which is why they had called on him to lead the project.

Nevertheless, he stared at the entrance and then up towards the window. The lights inside moved very slowly and faded deeper into the building where they were hardly visible.

"We've reached the location,” the staff sergeant said.

“Where are you?”

“Outside a classroom.”

"Continue with caution,” the man in blue ordered.

"Copy that. Entering now."

The teamed moved as the staff sergeant led them towards the entrance of the classroom. It was an ordinary classroom filled with children's desks. On the wall was a chalkboard riddled with writing scribbles, and a teacher's desk sat at the far end of the classroom. Papers and a few textbooks scattered the floor.

“Sergeant, do you see anything?” the man in blue yelled through the earpiece.

“Corporal, what do you see?” the staff sergeant asked.

“Not sure, sergeant. The readings are way off. They’re everywhere. I can’t get a clear reading.”

“Are you sure you’re reading that thing right?” a fellow trooper snapped.

“They seem to be all over the place,” the corporal answered.

The staff sergeant grabbed the scope, and he seemed to be just as confused when he glared down at the machine, examining it as if it were some kind of foreign instrument.

“What? This can’t be right,” he uttered under his breath.

“Come in, sergeant. Have you reached the target?” the man in blue impatiently asked.

“Securing location. Standby.”

“Don’t tell me to standby! Report at once. What do you see?” the man in blue yelled, lowering his voice only when his comrades gazed at him doubtfully. They no doubt questioned his leadership, and he wanted to erase all their doubts at any cost before they had a chance to discredit him with their leaders.

“Nothing, Sir. We see nothing,” the sergeant responded.

“Nothing? Have you lost the target? Is that what you’re trying to tell me, sergeant?”

“Negative, Sir,” the staff sergeant firmly stated.

“Then what is the problem?”

“There seems to be a problem with the equipment, Sir. There—” The connection failed, and the sound of the staff sergeant’s voice became distorted by static and other unnatural elements.

The man in blue knew the dance like a nasty nightmare he had repeated so many times before. It was a script that couldn’t be changed, and even then, he was never prepared for it once he realized it was happening. He made an attempt to say something, but the words would not come out of his mouth. And if they did, it made no difference.

“Wait, I think I see something," one of the men suddenly said as the team glanced around the section of the classroom.

“Sergeant, get your team out of there at once! That’s an order!" the man in blue growled into the receiver in a panic. The others came within steps of him.

“What are you doing? Our orders are to obtain the target at any cost,” the men in black scolded as he swung around to face them.

“But they’re walking into a trap,” he growled.

“Any cost,” one of the men in black hissed. The man in blue took a deep breath and spun around, lifting his head towards the dark windows of the building.

He moved forward only to stop inches from the entrance. The other suits would not budge; they were either too frightened or too smart to venture upstairs into the building.

Above, inside the building, the scope in the corporal’s hand cleared, and a single indicator in red appeared on the green screen. He looked toward the dark corner of the room, near the chalkboard; on its cold, dark wall, a single scratch began before a face appeared on the cold surface. The soldier’s eyes became large, and he dropped the scope.

Static drowned the radio waves before it went dead. From above, the man in blue heard screams, and then suddenly, a wave of distorted sounds jammed the radio waves as it came to life again.

The man in blue looked up. A halo of bullets showered the window, scattering glass onto the pavement below. A loud shriek exploded through the earpiece, and he tossed it to the ground. They slowly moved back towards the car, taking a radio and an assault rifle from the inside of the vehicle. The man in blue watched the building carefully as the final sound of gunfire seized and everything became still.

"Report!" One of the men in black yelled into the radio. The man in blue hushed him frightfully, taking it from his hand and listening to the silence and static at the other end.

And in the deaf stillness, he heard it, or so he swore, its voice whispering a truth he'd heard before. But as to whom it meant, the man in blue wondered even now, “My pet…” it hissed, but he couldn’t make the rest out.

Suddenly, in a thunderous roar, a shadowy figure shot from the building rooftop, scattering debris down below. The man in blue jumped to the side as a body came crashing down upon the hood of the black SUV. The men in black leaped to the ground as glass scattered everywhere. They lifted their heads to the sky in search of the creature.

The man in blue rose to his feet, dusting off his suit. He too watched the skies now as he retrieved his glasses from the pocket of his coat. But just as the others behind him were aware, it was gone for now.

3

The Belle’s Ring

August 2012 Present day…

The plane landed in Houston, Texas. Father said he and Mother would be there waiting for me at the airport. I thought it was strange, but my father had always done things his way, and I never questioned his methods. My father was very educated, and he knew very well what he was doing. He had never failed in that, and he proved it many times before. So I learned at a very early age never to question his ways.

I collected my bags from the baggage claim and made my way to the entrance of the airport. I could already imagine my parents’ faces waiting for me, but when I finally came outside with the rest of the passengers, I only saw a few vehicles picking up friends and family. I figured Father had rented a vehicle and was now coming back around after being asked to move the car. The sign on the post read “No parking at any time”.

I could picture him in the back of an SUV, driving up to greet me. I sat waiting and waiting until a Lincoln with dark tinted windows pulled up. I must have looked pitiful just sitting there waiting like an abandoned child. I looked up as the door slowly opened. I wondered if it was my father, even though he hated American cars.

Father said we had relatives in the space city. I didn't know what he meant. As far as I knew, we had no other family. My parents were both adopted.

I stood up as the door opened further, and a man wearing a black suit and a dark blue tie stepped out. He was tall and slightly chubby and looked to be in his thirties. He didn’t smile. He looked troubled, and I had learned quickly to know the expression by heart.

He blinked. He seemed to know me before I could introduce myself. He stepped forward, coming up to me. He folded a lip and asked, “Miss Claudia Belle?”

But it didn’t really sound like a question. He seemed to know exactly who I was.

I looked up at him curiously; almost afraid of what he would tell me. The man dropped his head slightly, and his eyes took on a deep sadness as his lips quivered slightly.

I asked, “Yes?”

He took a deep breath. “I'm Mr. West, a friend of your father’s, Nicholas Belle.”

I looked around as the world went about its business with this man and me at the end of it, and we were in another realm entirely.

I stared at him for a long moment, glaring at him, daring to see what his thoughts read, but I was afraid of what they would reveal to me. I was afraid I already knew. I felt the tears rip through the corners of my eyes, and I gasped.

“He asked me to come.” He paused like he was having trouble talking too. Did I already know why?

“I'm afraid I have some terrible news,” he said, and I choked back a sob.

“Your parents have been in a horrible accident,” he finally managed, and I gasped as a tear rolled down my cheek. I gazed up at him, my eyes wide open.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Speechless, I sobbed quietly, almost soundlessly. I wiped at the tears breaking loose from my eyes, trying to hide the fact that I was weak and lost.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't believe it, but it was the truth. I knew it.

“Is that why you’re here?” I finally asked, trying to stop myself from crying, but it was no use. “Why are you here?” I again said.

“I was instructed to take you to a friend,” he said. He opened the door of the Lincoln. At any other time, I would not have believed a complete stranger when he told me something like this. Of course, no one in their right mind would have just believed anything so outrageous without certain proof, but I could read his mind just as if he had said those words through his slim lips. I knew what he had just revealed was nothing but the truth. As much as I didn’t want to believe it, it was the awful truth.

But I still said, “I don't believe you,” because I didn’t know what else to say.

I wanted to turn and run from the truth, from him and everything including reality, but I just stood as he held the door of the Lincoln open and gazed back at me.

“I have something for you from your father. He asked me to give it to you if anything ever were to happen to him or your mother.”

I took a deep breath as he motioned me into the Lincoln. Without hesitation, I took a step forward and watched as the chauffeur came out of the driver’s side and grabbed a hold of my luggage. I climbed into the car as Mr. West closed the door behind me and walked around, climbing into the car from the other side. It was quiet for a moment as the driver climbed into the car, and then we began to move.

I turned as he said, “Your father made this for you. He asked me to come for you if anything ever happened to them. I’m an attorney.”

“Are you my father’s attorney?” I asked.

He took a deep breath.

“You can say that. I’ve helped your father make the arrangements with my client.”

“Arrangements?” I asked, and then it was clear as the thoughts that soaked his mind. Father hadn’t hired him, but he was handling the paperwork for another, someone else, a name of Edwards kept coming into his thoughts, someone my father trusted.

He took out an iPad. “He asked me to give you a message.”

“What is it?” I asked, but I could see already it was a video as he put the iPad where I could see it.

The video screen opened, and my father appeared on the screen: “Claudia, my girl, if you’re seeing this then—I’m afraid.” He paused.

“You must listen very carefully baby. Listen to what Mr. West tells you. I can't fully explain everything, but with time you will discover the truth on your own. Right now, you must go with Mr. West. I've secured a place for you with a person I trust. He will care for you now. All the arrangements have been made for your comfort and your safety. You must trust me and believe me that I did all this to protect you. We love you. Never forget that. We love you!”

“Nicholas please let me—” My father held my mother back, and I could see her on the screen, pleading and crying to speak into the video to tell me more, but she knew she couldn’t.

“I love you!” She could only say this before she broke into sobs. My father smiled into the screen as he reached forward to touch the monitor. I did the same, and for that moment, our hands touched, if only through the screen for one last time.

“We're with you always, Claudia.”

And then he was gone.

Mr. West slowly pulled the iPad back; he tucked it into his briefcase and sat there silently. “That’s all of the message. I was instructed to deliver it to you in the event that something happened to them. I received word of the accident early this morning. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Early this morning, I thought. I was gone by then. I had left the night before in the cover of darkness. Father said it would be best and that I had nothing to be afraid of. I trusted Father; he had the best intentions for me.

But now, I wondered what he feared when I felt him holding me before the limo arrived to pick me up. They just stood there waving as the limo carried me to the airport alone, not that I was afraid to be alone, but we were always together.

“All final burial arrangements have been taken care of. All the details are in the documents.” He continued talking, pulling documents from his briefcase.

“Do you have any questions for me?” he continued, like a nervous wreck.

“They weren’t supposed to die,” I cut him off as the car continued down the street.

“They weren’t, were they? But they still planned this, didn’t they?” I asked, looking over at Mr. West as the car continued moving.

“They still planned to send me away with this person.”

“They wanted to protect you,” Mr. West simply said, then returned to his documents.

“Where will the funeral be held?” I asked, looking down at my lap.

“There won’t be one.” Mr. West answered, looking up, concerned by what he planned to reveal.

“Your father’s will gave specific instructions that upon his and your late mother’s death, their bodies be cremated immediately. But, as I mentioned, all the arrangements have already been taken care of. There’s nothing for you to be worried about.” He looked over at me, sympathetically.

“Who is Dr. Edwards?” I asked, completely off the topic but it was something on his mind. A name that kept popping into his head, a name he wished could take his place. He hated being the bearer of bad news.

Mr. West turned. He looked shocked; he had never revealed the other party’s name, but no matter how surprised he was that I knew this, he didn’t answer my question.

But didn’t I already know?

4

The Connection

July 2012 A month earlier…

The feeling of the liquid burned his throat. The past wouldn't stop haunting him with Nicholas' photograph in the drawer of his desk. Had he been ready to let it all go? To forget he could ever be with his son?

"It's okay. It’s over," he announced as if he were making a speech. "The connection is broken." His breath reeked of fine liquor. His words were a mere whisper.

His son, the big businessman, the head of a large financial firm, was involved with the royals of the big business world. But that wasn’t what had alerted him, it was the young girl by his side, his granddaughter. He had been ready to let it all go until he saw her. But was he ready to make that call? To make the connection again?

“Hello father,” a voice said loudly from the entrance of his office. Dr. Edwards looked up as the bottle he was holding shattered to pieces beside his desk. Dr. Edwards glanced at the blond man standing in the doorway. Fear and terror resurfaced, but the fear had been replaced with excitement and liberation.

“Nicholas?” Dr. Edwards gasped as he sat on his chair, gazing at the handsome man standing at the entrance of his office. He was speechless; so many times, he thought of what he would tell his only son, but now the words would not come to him. He blinked, his lips parted, but then he choked, dazed by the liquor in his veins.

“Yes, I know who you are,” Nicholas firmly said. “Father,” hissed the young blond man with the clear blue eyes as he stepped forward into Dr. Edwards’ office. Nicholas was a wise-looking man in his thirties, dressed in an immaculate clean, black suit.

“Nicholas,” he said, rising from his seat. “How did you know?”

But it didn’t matter how he knew because Nicholas was there in the flesh.

“I wanted to tell you,” Dr. Edwards again made himself say. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Stop,” Nicholas said, putting a hand out. “That doesn’t matter now. Just listen,” he firmly said.

“I’m sure you had your reasons, but that’s not what’s important now, nor why I’m here. So just listen very carefully.” Nicholas looked firmly over at him. He glanced at the shattered bottle on the floor beside the desk.

“I hope I haven’t interrupted anything,” he said. “Celebrating something?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Nicholas, try to understand I never meant to abandon you. I never wanted to, but—”

“Listen!” Nicholas firmly yelled. “I don’t care what your reasons are. I don’t have time for pity excuses, so just listen to what I have to say.” Dr. Edwards nodded as Nicholas motioned to him to take a seat behind his desk again. Nicholas sat in one of the chairs in front of it.

“I’m sure you’re aware you have a granddaughter,” Nicholas coldly said.

Dr. Edwards smiled excitedly; he wanted to say something, but Nicholas’ firm glare stopped him from opening his lips, and he only nodded nervously.

“It is because of her that I’m here.” Nicholas rose, stepping near the window. He looked nervous for a moment before turning back to Dr. Edwards.

“I want her to come and live with you.”

Dr. Edwards blinked. He was shocked by his son’s words. He thought that perhaps with time his son would allow him to see her, but he never thought he would simply have her live with him so soon. He was both excited and curious as to why his son had suddenly decided on such a thing. After all, this was their first meeting ever.

Nicholas looked over at him. His eyes were as cold and emotionless as they had been when he first came in. In fact, Dr. Edwards could not read them as he had wished that he could. Nicholas looked away sadly, trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but he remained firm, and this discipline frightened Dr. Edwards. His son was so withdrawn from the world around him.

“Nicholas, anything you want. But, what’s wrong son? Tell me what’s troubling you.”

Nicholas whirled around and faced his father. “That doesn’t concern you! You’ll either help me, or you won’t.”

He moved to the entrance and stopped again. Dr. Edwards rose and came around his desk.

“I’ll have my attorney make the necessary arrangements with your attorney, Mr. West.” Dr. Edwards blinked. It didn’t surprise him that his son knew of Mr. West. Nicholas turned to face him and coldly stared back at Dr. Edwards.

“She’s your only granddaughter. Make sure you protect her. Do this for her and not for me. My attorney will be in touch. Good night, father.”

Nicholas walked out. Dr. Edwards hurried to the door, but Nicholas was gone by the time he reached his office entrance.

5

The Arrival

August 20, 2012 Present day…

In the middle of the afternoon, a Lincoln entered the parking lot of Milton High School and circled around slowly near the side of the old building. The metal doors of the school were cracked and coming off the hinges. The place needed a good renovation, and the principal, Dr. Edwards had realized it more than anyone. He waited as the vehicle stopped down below.

"She's here,” Mr. Michael McClellan, Milton's 10th grade English teacher said out loud. Even though he was younger than Dr. Edwards, he appeared much older.

Behind them, inside the building stood Mr. Claypool, the lower-class assistant principal, and Mr. Vasquez, the upper-class assistant principal. Both peered out the door window, curiously staring at the car that had just pulled up. They slowly stepped out of the building.

Michael's words made Dr. Edwards wonder why he had waited so long. He had gone so long denying he had a son. He had gone so long denying the calls he made to Nicholas' home just to hear his voice. And now he recalled it every moment.

"Hello?" Nicholas' voice answered on the third ring. Speechless, Dr. Edwards held the phone, unable to put it down or speak.

All he wanted to say was, "I’m your father. And I love you, forgive me."

He cradled the only photograph of Nicholas he had ever owned as he hung up the phone.

What indeed could he say? How would he expect Nicholas to respond in return? It was no different than the dial tone that now echoed from beyond the earpiece. No words would ever leave Dr. Edwards' lips. He only wanted to hear his voice, to know his son was there. Nicholas was an ugly kept secret from the world. Was it for the best?

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Neil."

Dr. Edwards' eyes slowly met Michael's, caught off-guard by the piece of delicate photo paper in his fingers.

"Go to him, Neil. Go before it's too late," Michael said.

"I can't. I wish there was a way, but I can't," Dr. Edwards said, and then he became silent.

"Why not?" Michael boldly asked. Amazed by his words, Dr. Edwards gazed up to him, dumbfounded.

"You know why. I can't risk it. It's not safe. I won't let anything happen, not to him."

Michael bowed his head as Dr. Edwards scolded him angrily. "Not like what happened to my mother," he announced with determination.

"Neil, it wasn't your fault," Michael again said. "Think of all the time you've wasted."

"My mother said I was the connection. What if she was right? What if it was my entire fault? What if I led that…what if I led him to her? What if she's gone because of me? There can't be any other explanation. I don't want to put Nicholas in danger."

"Neil, you can't continue to blame yourself for her disappearance," Michael said.

"Disappearance? She was taken from me!" Dr. Edwards yelled, and then he collapsed. It wasn't Michael's fault; it was no one's fault but his own. There could be no other reason. It had never been far from his thoughts. He often wondered what had become of her, wondered whether she thought of him, as he of her. The past was still very fresh in his mind, especially the very night she was taken.

He recalled it well, how could he ever forget it?

The storm outside had lit the night sky as thunder and lightning followed. He remembered glancing back at the figure of his mother on the bed, blissfully sound asleep. He remembered the dark hallways, the smell of damp and decay in the air, and he could still recall the wet floorboards and the above ceiling, looking partially swollen from the dripping water coming in.

There were leaks from above in almost every part of the house. The monstrous drops made too much noise; a distraction from what he was actually hearing. The next room was no different; rotting furniture scattered around the area and corners laid covered in cobwebs. The windows were intact, except for the leaking ceiling above. The second room looked the same except for a few rats that raced past his feet.

The rain didn't seem to let up, pouring even harder as the night dragged on. The thunder now became more frequent, shaking the house and rattling the windows. At the bottom of the staircase, leading to the top of the stairs, the floorboards creaked under his feet. The second-floor hallway laid dark, and only the lighter in his hand lead the way. Yellow light covered the molded walls and decaying floors throughout the hallway. The top floor had three bedrooms, two of which were on each side of the hall, while the third was a step from the staircase.

Looking at the entrance, the room was empty except for an old, mirrored dresser and an old bed, whose sheets were covered in dust and cobwebs. The curtains on the window were just as old and crawling with spiders like the rest of the house.

A sound at the end of the hall startled him; perhaps a window had been left open, glass missing or broken? Then he heard it as clearly as he heard the rain pouring down on top of the crumbling house.

Radiant, deceiving, and beautiful ageless purple eyes, set on a pasty youthful face, with strands of dark, matted hair draped on each side of his head. This time, it wasn't the wind's whispering from some peaceful place. And he knew—

“I’ve come my Maya…”

Dr. Edwards blinked. The details of that night were still very vivid in his mind. Those few memories had started his journey and had brought him to this very spot, waiting for this very moment.

"You think she'll like me?" Dr. Edwards nervously voiced. "How will I ever explain it…all of it… our lost time?"

"It'll come to you, my friend. Don't worry," Michael offered.

"But what if she doesn't understand? What if…" Dr. Edwards anxiously whispered, looking about. A small breeze gathered, blowing all around them, and a growing peace settled upon the parking lot as a breath escaped Dr. Edwards’ lips. He finally exhaled for the first time it seemed in years.

"Relax. This is the moment you've been waiting for," Michael said.

Dr. Edwards smiled, gripped only now by both excitement and anticipation of the day that had taken so long to arrive.

Michael cleared his throat as the driver stepped out of the car and opened the door. Immediately, a hand pushed the car door back, and a beautiful young girl with dark brown eyes and bronze skin climbed out from the inside of the vehicle and came to stand at the bottom of the steps before them. She had a pair of headphones in each eardrum and was holding an iPod in the palm of her hand. Her dark brown eyes danced around the side of the building and up to the steps, finally meeting the watchful assistant principals and security guard gawking from the top of the steps near the entrance. And then, her eyes firmly stared at Dr. Edwards and Michael standing right in front of the others.

The driver took a single piece of luggage from the vehicle's trunk and set it near the steps of the building as Dr. Edwards and the others now came down to greet her.

A mixture of emotions stirred Dr. Edwards awake. He knew her before she had spoken a word. Her name, her favorite flowers, roses, and daisies…her mother's favorites.

The red color that designed her room and enlightened her mind. The nights she spent alone to watch the stars from her bedroom window. There was magic in those eyes that dreamt of faraway places, but there was also a sadness; mourning he recognized as his own. In a brief moment, he knew her secrets, like an open wound bleeding its truth.

The knowing of such things didn’t surprise him. He felt a bond and connection to her right away. She indeed was his granddaughter. Although he had not shared this bond with his son, he could share it with her. He remembered his mother’s face as clearly as he did then. Speech and thoughts were never boundaries to them. He had only to think of what he meant to say, without opening his lips to her, she would understand. Their bond was deep, and it was something it had tried to sever when it had claimed her.

Then, the accident revealed the fear in Nicholas’ words that evening. “She’s your only granddaughter. Make sure you protect her. You owe me.”

Finally, Nicholas' words made sense to him, but the danger and the fear in his eyes didn’t. What was he hiding, and why send her to him? But whatever it was, he knew he had to protect her as he had promised his son. He indeed owed him.

Claudia removed the headphones and put her iPod in the red backpack she carried. She was dressed in a simple daisy patterned short-sleeve blouse, a pair of jeans, and red Doc Martens. She looked just like any average young girl, too absorbed in her own world to care what adults were doing. Dr. Edwards couldn't help but think how her large, sparkling dark brown eyes and long waist-length brown hair reminded him of his mother.

“This is a school,” she softly uttered, in reference to Milton.

"It is an old building rich with history," Michael offered the young girl. "I assure you, you'll never find any place like Milton."

The way Michael said it made Dr. Edwards realize he knew far more about the history of Milton than he ever had, and it was an abundance Michael was willing to share with whoever was willing to listen.

Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool came down the steps to stand behind them, both were grinning and waiting for an introduction that never came.

"Welcome Claudia,” Dr. Edwards said as her curious, dark brown eyes gazed up at him. Her stare paralyzed him briefly, and he wondered if she was even aware of her abilities.

"Do I know you?" She managed to voice this question softly, staring at the strange faces in front of her. There was dread in her eyes as her thoughts swirled uncontrollably in her mind, but he couldn’t make sense of them.

Had she known? The fear and disappointment was marked in her expression. As a matter of fact, she glanced up at him and at the building and those around them. Had she had high hopes of where she was going?

"I'm Dr. Edwards, principal of Milton High. I'm also your grandfather,” he added, sensing her heart skip a beat.

Speechless now, she stared at him much more closely than before, glaring at the others with what seemed to be disapproval or uncertainty. Her disappointment seemed obvious.

"My grandfather?" She replied doubtfully. "That can’t be." She seemed to almost roll her eyes; an unmistakable teen trait.

"Yes," he answered as her brow folded. A single word formed in her mind, No. And he was surprised when he heard it.

"I don't believe you," she uttered, and she looked back towards the car that had dropped her off, but the vehicle and its driver were now long gone.

"Why haven't I ever met you before? Or heard about you until now?" She asked, sounding disgusted. He was aware she had been informed by his attorney, but there had been no options then to deny it.

"No, it has to be a mistake," She again said before he could answer. "I don't have a grandfather. My parents are…" Her eyes looked away. "Were…" she softly whispered before Dr. Edwards interrupted.

"Adopted?" He sympathetically answered. Their eyes met again, but the doubt, if there ever had been any, suddenly seemed to drain from her. She had the gift. She made the connection and wanted to deny that she had. But why?

"I've been waiting for a long time to meet you," Dr. Edwards revealed. "Now here you are." He prepared himself for the reaction on her face, for the rejection that he expected from a young girl just discovering she had a grandfather she’d never met. But there was only one obvious expression he expected. She seemed lost, struggling to clarify what she had just learned with what she already knew. Dr. Edwards didn't know what else to say or how else to console her. Perhaps she didn't know how to react to this new reality placed before her. Silent and withdrawn, she avoided Dr. Edwards’ eyes.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me."

She blinked up at him.

Michael touched Dr. Edwards gently on his arm, aware his friend wanted to tell the young girl the truth about the evil that had separated them for all those years. It was the evil that they had both kept secret for so long.

Dr. Edwards picked up the single suitcase and led Claudia to the top of the steps. She reluctantly followed, briefly lost in the chaos of her own thoughts. It was remarkable how he couldn't quite read her entirely as he had his mother. It was as though she could control it better than he ever could. He had trouble keeping things hidden when his emotions got the best of him. The men standing behind him moved to the side, allowing them to pass as the security guard opened the door.

"Well," Dr. Edwards uttered. He turned, feeling the blood rush to his face and the beating of his heart drumming inside his chest as they entered the hallway.

Michael finally broke the silence.

"Perhaps you should take Claudia home to get settled in, Neil. I'm sure she's tired from her long trip. " Michael suggested this before his friend could protest, knowing his mind was on the details relating to the first day of school. Dr. Edwards glanced over at him, his soft blue eyes thankful.

“Don’t worry. I know the drill,” Michael said, and the principal smiled in return. Michael was like his second hand. A mere teaching degree had not earned him the position of such, but the fact that the faculty also respected him and trusted him was very reassuring.

"Besides, you two have a lot of catching up to do," Michael said. Dr. Edwards gazed over at him and nodded. Behind him, Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez didn't offer much but a stupid grin, like two overgrown children.

A distance down the hall, Dr. Edwards noticed Claudia walking forward into the hallway. She was mesmerized and captivated by Milton's hallways. Dr. Edwards came to stand beside her. She seemed mystified by the architecture and detail, as he had always been. The ancient building had a magical element carved upon every molding and door frame. With the occasional cool draft and its poor lighting, there was still something beautiful, something mysterious about the whole building.

Above, a mist hovered, always looming like a dark and icy welcome, lingering throughout the halls and through the slight spikes of light that had managed to enter. Above, a slight echo and a vibration in the ceilings resounded like a rumbling, the pipes were moving and cracking, and it seemed the building was coming alive, and then it seemed to settle and moan as if in disagreement. Dr. Edwards always thought old buildings had a way of making themselves heard.

The empty building was silent this afternoon except for the irregular clack of pipes from somewhere in the walls, and it seemed at peace. Above, the lamps flickered, and some were completely out. The school year had yet to begin, and for now, the hallways lay empty, but soon they would be crawling with students and teachers.

"Creepy," Claudia softly whispered to herself.

"It is, but it’s beautiful in a way too, isn't it?" Dr. Edwards asked. She slightly glanced back at him, uninterested in his comments.

"It’s a very old building. It used to be a government building of some kind back in the twenties. There’s been a bit of remodeling since then, but it still has all the original craftwork on the molding. With luck, we hope to keep it intact."

Silence. Claudia didn't look up at him; her look of disinterest reminded him of others' disapprovals. She seemed far less interested in his history lesson and more interested in trying to avoid him.

"Perhaps we should go home," Dr. Edwards suggested before she walked back to the entrance alone.

He had meant to follow her, but the extended dim hallway in front of him distracted him. The bulb flickered at one far end of the hall; shadows caught his attention before he focused his eyes on it. Was he seeing things?

Things were often seen in the darkness, things he’d rather not think or talk about. There was no money in the budget to make the repairs Milton needed. Upon another glance, he saw nothing but the shapes on the wall reflecting off the lights at the other side of the hall. A gentle tap from behind spun him around, his heart at full beat seized only when Michael's blue eyes stared back at him.

"Neil, are you alright?" Michael whispered.

Dr. Edwards took a deep breath and smiled before patting Michael on the back.

"I'm fine.”

6

A New Home

Dr. Edwards lived in a modest two-story house. It was far too big for him and far too big for two people, but it was settled in the kind of friendly and warm neighborhood that everyone desired, with the occasional white picket fence and colorful flowers in the front yard. Kids were riding their bikes and tossing the ball out on the streets. There were joggers and people walking their dogs. People here knew each other, and their children had grown up together and lived in the same houses for a long time. The neighbors were friendly, but he preferred alienation from those around him.

Loneliness had been his friend for a long time.

The trip home was a quiet one. Claudia remained silent the entire time. They entered the house and Claudia stumbled behind him, barely looking around at her new surroundings. The house was quite big. A staircase greeted them at the front of the entrance, leading to the second floor with three bedrooms and a bathroom. The living room was located just off of the entrance, and the dining room was near the kitchen on the other side of the house. The attic and a basement were filled with old items: newspapers, ancient clothing, and boxes filled with old albums, everything cluttered and rotting.

Dr. Edwards led Claudia to one of the rooms on the second floor. The room was small but big enough for a young girl. In the corner there sat an old-fashioned dresser with a mirror. The items seemed as old-fashioned as the inside of Milton High, and it had appeared they had been in the room for a long time. The bed was simple with a mahogany frame and a blue comforter. On both sides of the bed was a bedside table and antique lamp. It was like the inside of an old motel.

"I hope this room isn't too small," Dr. Edwards said. "It’s not much, but it is home."

"It's not my home," Claudia replied with a challenging stare. Dr. Edwards glanced over at her.

"But it will be. It can be," Dr. Edwards said with an assuring smile.

"Why now?" She rudely snapped. "I haven't met you all my life, and now you show up claiming to be my grandfather? Just because some document says so? That doesn't make it true. I don't even know who you are. For all I know, you’re just someone after my parent’s inheritance." She boldly looked up at him.

He was surprised by her comment. The fury in her eyes demanded to hear the truth, but it seemed he couldn't offer it to her. At least not yet, she wouldn’t understand.

"If you’re not…then you abandoned my father…you abandoned us. Is that what I should assume?"

Dr. Edwards paused before answering. "Claudia, there's so many things I wish I could explain to you, but I want you to understand I didn't abandon your father. I was protecting him and you."

"That makes no sense,” she snapped. "So then you’re after our money?"

Dr. Edwards took a deep breath, and Claudia moved away towards the window. Outside the wind blew slightly, and the evening seemed alive with movement. The sound of the wind had never bothered him, but now it did. The breeze seemed alive with their emotions. He felt the truth in that. When he was sad, the skies wept, and when he was angry, lighting and thunder would light the heavens. And now he could sense the winds outside come to life by her mere confusion. She had the strength and the gift, but was she even aware of it? And if she was, why couldn’t she see him? Had her anger or emotions clouded her inner abilities?

"You were never in our lives, and now you expect me to accept that you're my grandfather? I don't know anything about you. Or what I'm doing here. I just want to go home." A sigh escaped her pale mouth, and she dropped on the side of the bed. It appeared she was fighting the urge to cry. Dr. Edwards sensed she was strong-willed.

"You know that can't happen,” he said.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” she whispered.

Dr. Edwards gazed over at her, “I know Mr. West explained to you the circumstances and arrangements in regards to your father’s last wishes. I’m so sorry…”

She held the tears back as hard as she could until they welled in her eyes and forced their way out. He wanted to comfort her, but he didn't know how.

"Why did this have to happen?” She softly uttered to herself. She lowered her head, curling into a ball with her hands on her lap, tears tracing the side of her face. She wiped them away, ashamed she had revealed this part of herself to him.

"Everything was just perfect." She became silent, wiping occasionally at her face. "But it doesn't matter now, does it?" She lifted her angry eyes to his.

"I'm so sorry, Claudia. I know your parents loved you very much."

"You don't know anything," Claudia snapped, glaring back at him. "You don't know my father. You don't know anything about us. Why should it matter to you?"

Dr. Edwards was speechless.

Claudia turned away when he didn't answer, perhaps disturbed by his lack of words. But he knew better than to challenge her. He didn't want their first meeting to be an argument.

"School starts tomorrow,” Dr. Edwards finally said for lack of anything else. “You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'll understand if you’re not ready. In fact, I don’t think you should. You need time to grieve."

"What difference does it make?” Claudia whispered. She'd given up. Outside, it began to rain. The lightening lit the sky, thunder like a growling hound followed soon after.

Unable to think of what to say, Dr. Edwards moved to the door. He looked back at her, took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door.

Before he walked out, he said, "I just want you to know that I'm very happy you're here."

She didn't say anything, and he walked out in silence.

The morning came and Dr. Edwards dressed for the part of the principal. A suit and tie were the appropriate apparel for the job. Today was going to be a busy day, the beginning of a new year always was.

He came out of his room holding a briefcase and glanced towards the room that Claudia occupied across from his own. He walked up to the door and stood there, he lifted a hand to knock but stopped. He thought of just leaving but he didn’t want to, that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t just do that. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do. Then, after taking a breath, he forced himself to knock, there was no answer. Sure she was inside, he stood motionless in front of the door contemplating whether to enter or not. Finally giving up, he called for her from the other end.

“Claudia? Claudia, I’m going to work now.” His voice sounded shaky and nervous.

“I’m going to school—to Milton. I understand if you would rather just stay home. I’m fine with that. I’m fine with you staying at home today or for as long as you need.” He listened for any sounds from the other side but he heard nothing.

He grabbed his briefcase, took out a pen and wrote a number on a notepad then stuck it on the door.

“I’m leaving my number just in case. Use the landline if you don’t have your own cell phone.”

He walked to the stairs and stood there for a moment, hoping to hear anything from the other side of the door, but again, there was only silence.

“Okay, I’m leaving now. There’s plenty of food in the fridge if you get hungry.” He began his descent down the steps, stopped, and walked back up. Took a breath, then back down the stairs again, stopping at the entrance of his house. He looked up but there was only silence once more.

He took another breath and opened the door and walked out of the house.

For the remainder of the week, the mornings came and always seemed to start the same way. He left and she would be in her room; she wouldn’t answer his knocks no matter what time of the day it was. At least she was eating, that much was true. He’d come home to a ransacked fridge and dirty dishes in the sink.

At dinner, he’d leave a tray with her supper outside her bedroom, while he stayed away in the kitchen cleaning up. He’d hear the bedroom door upstairs open, her taking the tray he’d set out, but the minute he ran up the bottom of the steps to say something, she would be gone. The only thing to greet him would be a slamming door.

That night before bed, he came to her door once again. He stood outside and thought of what he could possibly say to her but it wasn’t easy. He knew very little about her and what little he had discovered on his own was their peculiar connection. He wanted to tell her more, share with her the truth of his gift and hers. Share with her their curse, but he feared it was too soon to tell her anything without frightening her. He wondered if Nicholas had shared his strange abilities with her as he had with his own mother.

Dr. Edwards moved away from the door. Perhaps it was best to let her come out on her own. She had gone through so much. Her parent’s death had been a great shock to both of them, and she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. His son’s request to have their bodies immediately cremated was strange, but he was sure he had his reasons for doing so.

Dr. Edwards let it be, he walked towards the open door of his bedroom and stood at the entrance looking back, then turned the hallway light out. Tomorrow would be another day, the weekend had finally come and perhaps they would be able to talk. Perhaps get to know each other a little bit more, and then he could tell her what she needed to be aware of.

People with abilities like their own were hunted by things in the darkness. He didn’t want to scare her but she needed to know in case…no, he didn’t want to consider it. Yet that wasn’t the worst part to fear, the darkness is always frightening but it was the people in the world that were far more dangerous. The ones you couldn’t see coming. The ones they called the Venators.

I sat in my room; I think it rained the entire week. The rain hadn’t stopped; the darkness hadn’t completely gone away. Clouds had never cleared the beautiful sky, yet something about this day was different, there was a little ray of sunshine now coming through the blinds in the room. The room that was not familiar to me, the room that was just another room.

It was later in the morning, perhaps 10 am; the clock in the room was an old-fashioned piece where the numbers flipped instead of blinked.

I awakened morning after morning to Dr. Edwards or my grandfather, I guess I should call him that, knocking at my door. I didn’t know what to say to him. I knew what he had revealed was the truth; he was my grandfather from my father’s side. As hard as it was to believe when I had first met him, it was now the undeniable truth.

Why hadn’t father ever told me? Did Mother know about him? Why hide him from us? I thought he had abandoned us since I knew nothing about him. Or did Father and he have a falling out that had caused their distance?

I had seen the entire scenario play in his mind, his encounter with Father. Father wanted me to come and live with my grandfather, and Father was afraid, but of what, who, or why was he afraid? Did it have anything to do with work? Father wasn’t the kind of man that was ever afraid. If anything, he was the kind that others feared.

I grabbed my backpack, I’d spend the week drawing light sketches of my parents, I didn’t want to forget their faces, I wanted to make sure I always remembered them. Fearing now as I did, that I had forgotten small details of my father’s face, I turned back to look at the picture on the bedside table. I had placed that there the day I had arrived for comfort. The only picture I had of both of them.

My father’s large blue eyes stared back at me from the picture. He was the eye of perfection; so boldly blond were the locks of his handsome golden hair. I often wondered why I hadn’t gotten any of his beauty. I was more like my mother, whose dark eyes stared from the same frame back at me. She had long, waist length brown hair and bronze skin like mine. My father seemed so pale beside her, but he was so handsome it didn’t matter. I never realized how perfect they looked together. And now they were gone forever. I kept thinking I would see my father, that he would come through that door any moment and tell me he was sorry for frightening me.

But that was only wishful thinking; I would never see them again. And the sooner I could come to terms with that, the sooner I could start to live.

I spent a few more minutes drawing and rose off the bed towards the window of the bedroom I had been so lucky to now call mine. There, I pulled open the blinds and looked out the window. The day was bright and sunny; there were people, kids mostly playing across the street, others riding their bikes on the street. It looked like a very pleasant and normal day. The neighborhood was beautiful, but nothing in comparison to the large expensive mansions lining each side of the street and metal access gates that needed entry codes to enter.

I walked away from the window, I felt like a prisoner but that was mainly my fault. Perhaps it was time to get out of this prison and get to know my grandfather. I dreaded the idea of doing so, but then I had no choice.

I took a breath and walked to the door of the room looking back at the picture of my parents, then opened the door.

I was in the kitchen having a late breakfast when I heard the upstairs door open to Claudia’s bedroom, then I heard footsteps coming down very slowly. I didn’t move, for fear of frightening her away like a scared little mouse back into her burrow. Of course very slowly she emerged into the doorway of the kitchen dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a flowery top, her long hair cascading down the side of her face and alongside her arms as she approached the table.

I rose, a smile spread upon my face, and slowly, I thought of what to say. She looked timid, almost embarrassed and uncomfortable.

“Would you like some breakfast?” I asked. She gazed up at me and nodded slowly. Immediately, I took a few items out of the fridge; eggs, bacon and hash browns.

“Would you like some eggs and bacon?” I asked politely turning back with the egg carton already in my hand.

“Bacon?” she looked unsure.

“Turkey bacon ok?” I asked, she nodded and I grabbed it putting it aside on the counter. I grabbed a bowl and whipped two eggs. Then grabbed a pan from the side shelf and placed it down on the burner. I already had a pan set aside for the bacon I had prepared for myself so I simply added a few slices into it and turned on the burner.

Claudia took a seat almost immediately on the opposite side of the table, and I took out the orange juice and asked her if she wanted some.

She nodded and I grabbed a glass from the upper cabinet. I poured the juice into a glass for her and placed it near her hand. All this time I could sense her mind wondering, searching discarded thoughts, lost threats I called them in one’s own dazed and distracted mind. I could easily lose my thoughts and get distracted with what I was doing, but this time, I think I had control. It was strange, for I normally never did. I glanced back at her and she was looking at me, watching me. But it wasn’t that she was watching, she was trying to read me.

There was something different about our connection, and I wondered if she had felt it as I had. I couldn’t quite explain it but if I had to, I’d say I felt stronger around her. Like I could control my mind far better than I normally did. That made me both happy and frightened.

There was an idea that the source, the energy was greater in a special kind of mind reader. I had never believed it, but now I wasn’t so sure the tale was a mere idea. For one reason I felt stronger, and unusually I was dragging myself everywhere. There was energy flowing out of her that I’d never felt, and it had its up and downs. I had felt it the moment I met her. It never drained, it only inspired; it only energized one’s body.

I turned the bacon over as I grabbed a plate off the shelf and added the eggs into the second pan. With the items cooking on the stove, I thought of what I could say to break the unusual silence.

Claudia, I whispered into her mind to get her attention, she seemed dazed, absorbed in her thoughts. An easy thing to happen between like-minded individuals like us.

I used to talk to your grandmother this way. She blinked up at me almost immediately.

“Did you say something?” she asked. I gazed right at her. Claudia…

She rose, pulling away from the table. “I’m not doing this with you.” she said.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” I said, regretting my attempt to invite conversation between us.

“I’m not afraid,” she said turning back to me. I felt a shock, a sort of vibration hit me suddenly and I felt lightheaded. I gazed over at her, she was stronger than I had thought. And she hadn’t even realized it.

“My father and I could do that. We used to have our own little conversations, just the two of us. It was the only time I was allowed to use it. He never wanted me to use it. He said people would fear me, not understand.” She looked down, tearing up.

“And now he’s gone. I don’t ever want to use it again.”

“Claudia, you have a gift. A wonderful gift…your father did what he did to protect you.”

“Protect me from what? All I keep hearing is he wanted to protect me. But from what?” She firmly snapped.

“Then he sends me away to live with you…” she whispered. “And the moment we’re separated, he’s dead.”

“Do you think this is all your fault?” I asked, surprised by her words.

She believed without a doubt that she was to blame.

“Father had a saying, together we’re stronger, united we’re bonded, the source of my strength is you.” she chanted.

“If he hadn’t sent me away he would still be alive.” she sadly declared.

“You can’t possibly believe that you’re to blame for this. Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to believe such nonsense.” I said, suddenly turning and realizing I was burning the bacon. I grabbed the pan and moved it aside. By now, the eggs were done and I had tossed them on a plate.

“Sorry about that. I’ll make some more.” I trashed what was left of the bacon and started over.

“Don’t bother,” she said.

“No, it’s alright,” I insisted and grabbed the bacon from the fridge and again added a few more slices onto the pan. The bacon began to sizzle under the cooking oil once more. The hash browns had been done along with the eggs and I also threw those on the plate. I had already made some pancakes earlier in the morning. So taking a fork, I put a single pancake on the plate for her. Maybe it was too much food; I gathered that by the look on her face as I set the plate down in front of her.

She reluctantly took a seat again. I think she was hungry and the only reason she now sat back down.

Then there was a knock on the door. She glanced at me and I back at her. I think we both had the same idea, who could that be? I wasn’t really expecting anyone. Although I was awaiting documentation from Mr. West’s office in regards to the assets and inheritance Nicholas had left in Claudia’s name. Nicholas had taken care of everything, all I had to do was take care of her. When she was 21, she would be able to take control of her inheritance without a guardian.

7

Claudia

I watched as my grandfather made his way to the door. The food he had put in the pan was sizzling again. I stood up and walked over, picking up the fork and flipping the bacon in the pan. It felt almost normal, even though I was certain I would never feel normal again. Father was dead. Mother was dead. I was living with a stranger, although not an unkind one. I sighed, realizing I was being unfair to this man.

He returned with a large white envelope that he sat on the edge of the breakfast table. I didn’t turn around to look at him, but I could tell he was watching me. Maybe he was looking for a little bit of Father in me. All around me. I thought.

I know. I nearly spattered the bacon grease all over myself when I dropped the fork. I knew he could speak to me like Father could, I mean, he had done it only a moment ago. But it made me uneasy every time. I leaned over to pick up the fork from the floor, muttering an apology.

“It’s alright, Claudia. Here, I can finish that up.”

He took a few steps towards me and I retreated back towards the table. The clinking of silverware and glass plates filled the silence between us as he brought me the little plate of bacon added to the already substantial amount he’d put in front of me. I picked at it, my body telling me I was hungry, but my brain despairing of ever eating again in a world without my parents.

Grandfather slid the envelope towards me. “These documents are from Mr. West. They are information about your inheritance that you will receive on your twenty-first birthday.”

I stared at the white paper and all it entailed. It was blood money. I would rather have my parents. I frowned, realizing that I was acting like a baby. I wasn’t a baby, and by the way grandfather was reaching out to my mind, I could tell he was trying to figure out what I was thinking. I don’t even know if he realized he was doing it, or if he knew I would notice.

“Stop that.” I said. He looked confused. “You’re trying to read my mind. It won’t work.”

He blushed and looked away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to poke around. Most people, you know, don’t realize when another person touches their mind.”

I shrugged. I knew that perfectly well, and Father had told me not to do such things. It was dangerous, it would get us hurt. It had gotten him hurt. I gave myself a mental shake, I didn’t know that for sure, I was just assuming. I picked up a piece of bacon and slowly chewed.

“There is a history in our family of this ability.”

“Father told me.”

“I would expect that of him, he knew the dangers, that’s why he sent you to me.” This again. Grandfather was not going to let it go. “There are... things that hunt us.”

“Things?” I replied, my voice incredulous.

“Yes, there is more to this world than meets the eye. Our power is very old and special to this world. There are... well, I suppose they are people in their own way... that seek us out from across the solar systems. They are drawn to us.”

“Aliens, seriously?” I said.

“Yes and no.” The corner of his mouth turned down. “I’m not explaining this very well.”

“No.” I said, refusing to voice the word ‘crazy’.

“Did your father never say anything?”

“He told me to not show my ability, that there were people who would use it for evil.”

“Yes, there are those too. Scientists. Others that would sell us to the highest bidder.”

“This is crazy.” Stop. The whole thing sounded absurd. He reached out and touched my hand, willing me to listen. My eyes widened when his skin touched mine. Behind his shoulder was a hulking dark figure, its face obscured by a deep hood. A skeletal hand poked out of one dark sleeve and an impossibly large scythe filled the kitchen. The head turned and I saw its searing white eyes. I yanked my hand back. The vision was gone.

Grandfather was staring at me with wide eyes.

“What did you see?” he asked. He tried to reach out and touch me again.

“I didn’t see anything!” I said, my voice high-pitched and squeaking. If anything, I didn’t want him to touch me and summon that horrible creature back into the otherwise normal kitchen. “I don’t know anything about things!” I shouted, standing up from the table. The vision hung in my mind. Father could sometimes sense such things as well.

Grandfather looked at me from the other end of the table, his brow furrowed in concern. He looked so frail, and around the edges, I could see how he was my father’s father.

“Claudia, it’ll be okay. I will keep you safe.”

Father used to say that to me too. “How?”

“Our abilities can give us warnings. Premonitions.” He made us sound like we were fortunetellers or crystal ball gazers. It was absurd.

“I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale, Claudia. You know that your ability is real.” You know you can hear my thoughts, just as I can hear yours when you let me. I turned away, not wanting him to be able to see my face. My hands started to shake.

“You’re scaring me.” He reached out to me again, but I moved away further so that I could be out of reach.

“I don’t mean to frighten you, Claudia. I want to prepare you for what may come. I want to tell you the things that I know, but I will wait until you are ready. Your parents’ death was not your fault.”

It was the second time he had said it, and I didn’t believe it any more than the first time. These premonitions he spoke of, if they were real I would have been warned. I would have been able to stop Father and Mother from sending me away. I wouldn’t be sitting across this table from this crazy relation I didn’t know that I had.

I stood up. “I’m going to my room.”

He let me go. When I got to the top of the stairs, I glanced back at him. The shadow was there, hanging over his head. I shivered and tried to think of something else.

The car came to a stop in the teacher's parking lot under a sign that read Dr. N. Edwards. Claudia sat in silence. She hadn't said a word all morning. Dr. Edwards hoped that by the end of the day they would be able to talk.

"Perhaps we can walk into the building together," Dr. Edwards suggested with a smile.

"No need," Claudia said as she gathered her book bag.

"Do you know where all your classes are? If you need any help…"

"I don't." Claudia glared at him. "Shocking as it might be, I have done this before."

"Right, I just hoped that we could talk later,” Dr. Edwards said, turning off the car engine, still looking at her. He managed a simple smile.

"Perhaps after school," he pushed. "It's important.”

A sigh escaped her pale mouth, and she collapsed into the car seat.

"I guess I have no choice," she said and then got out of the car.

"I'll see you at lunch?" Dr. Edwards asked, but she slammed the car door before he could finish, and she was gone.

Dr. Edwards sat in his car alone for a few moments, and then he got out, grabbing the briefcase in the back seat. He entered the building; the metal doorframe had peeled paint scattered near the entrance. Perhaps today would be the day he would get some approvals regarding repairs from the board. But he wasn't holding his breath.

The school had seen better days, half-repaired, partially alive, with the other half falling apart. There was paint peeling, fading in some areas, wall cracks in others. The lights sometimes flickered or went out completely. Some lights weren't even working anymore. He just didn't have the funding to make the necessary repairs, and there had been talks about demolishing the building altogether.

He hoped it wouldn't come to that. Milton was like his first home. Besides, there had been meetings before about demolishing the building and he distracted their efforts away from such ideas. The school's performance had never been an issue; perhaps that's why it survived all these years.

"It just isn’t in the budget," the chairman said to Dr. Edwards. But it was all political, he figured. Other schools with worse grades were always getting more funding. His staff had done the few repairs that had been completed because they loved the school so much. They had come in on weekends if only to keep the school up to code. He knew they loved Milton just as much as he did, and if the school closed, they’d also be out of their jobs.

Dr. Edwards entered the crowded hallway where the students waved at him in greeting. The hallway to his office seemed longer and much more crowded than usual. He searched for Claudia but could not see her nor sense her about. He thought of what he would tell her, how he would begin his lengthy tale.

Perhaps he would start with why he removed himself from her father's life, why it had to be done. But then again, he thought of starting with the thing in the dark that frightened him on most days. But did he really want to scare her?

There was no real way to start; either way would end the same. She would have to know. There was no denying it any longer. He had thought of it long and hard. She had to know that it was never his choice to abandon them.

Dr. Edwards reached his office. Pigeonhole mailboxes decorated the inner office to the far side of the entrance. A few feet from his office the secretarial desk sat, and Mrs. Wallace greeted him from behind her round dark-framed glasses. She rose with hands full of papers, notes, and messages. As he entered his office, she stood at the entrance of the door, and her smile greeted him from her rounded, wrinkled face.

Dressed in a flowery dress and a little blue sweater, she appeared older than she was because of the gray cotton afro of hair that encircled her head like a halo. She waited. The grin on her face hadn't disappeared, and he knew she awaited the news of his reunion.

"Well? How did it go, Sir?"

Apparently she was dying to hear the details. The expression on his face revealed disappointment, and her smile soon disappeared.

"Oh, Sir. Is there something wrong?" Mrs. Wallace asked before he could even open his mouth to speak.

"It didn't go well,” he said.

Dr. Edwards collapsed behind his desk and put his briefcase down on top of it.

"Alice, it's alright,” he continued. “It'll take time. She's young. You know how that can be sometimes."

"Oh, yes. Of course, Sir. I mean she's just had a major change in her life. Why her parents…well…it's just going to take time,” she agreed.

"Exactly," Dr. Edwards managed with a smile. Mrs. Wallace could sometimes be overbearing, but she meant well. She took care of those around her like an overprotective mother hen. She was concerned for him and the others that worked alongside her. He could depend on her. But today, he didn’t have time for her motherly affections, and Mrs. Wallace could clearly see that.

"Don't you worry, Sir. We'll make her feel right at home,” she again offered.

"Thank you, Alice."

She nodded; he could tell she wanted to say more but restrained from doing so.

"Please tell Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool to come to my office when they have a moment."

"Anything else, Sir?" She asked.

"Yes. Please close the door behind you.”

She smiled and did as she was told. He only saw her shadow standing outside his office door briefly, like she was fighting the urge to return and offer a kind word or two. But then it was gone and he was finally able to relax.

Dr. Edwards sat there with only his thoughts to haunt him until somewhere from within his coat a humming alarmed him. It consumed the inside of his coat pocket with a bright blue light.

Dr. Edwards reached into his pocket and pulled out a small but long and double-pointed crystal. It clearly flashed at him. It had only done this once before, alive just like in that dark place. He’d seen it light up in the same manner as a mere boy, watching the orbs as they flew past him. They appeared like giant lightning bugs dashing about in the night air. There, the man in the black cloak met him. How strange he dressed, how odd his color seemed in appearance to the ghostly beings that sat in the skies.

But unlike them, he resembled the villagers, the men they called the others. There was something different about him, though. For one thing, he was not ugly or old like the others, and his skin glimmered like the ghost that had taken his mother and the witches that had flown the northern skies. It was he who had helped him take off the collar from around his neck and freed his mind from the sleep that had imprisoned him. And now there he stood, amongst the cavern of orbs waiting for him, dressed in the robes of the others, a hood draped over his head, concealing a portion of his pale face.

The shadows parted for the man who stood amongst the orbs that passed him, and he plucked them from the air. None were too fast for the man. The man held them and they turned a burning red. It seemed like something he enjoyed doing and something Edward was aware was forbidden within the realm.

Edward moved closer to see him. As the man came out of the darkness, the orbs lit the features of his face, revealing the dark matted locks and dark purple eyes. His features were radiant, and his eyes lurked with a sense of mischief.

“Sir, I’m here.” Edward politely said, approaching the handsome ghostly man who stood as a towering figure in a sea of lights.

“Indeed you are, lad. Edward, is it?” The strange man asked with a smile stretched across his pasty face. Edward, the only name he known. The name his mother had given, and the only reason he would never part with it. Keeping it meant keeping her close.

The stranger narrowed his eyes directly at Edward, and then swallowed the orbs in his hand with a sense of victory.

Edward nodded with difficulty.

“May I ask why you are helping me, Sir?” Edward forced himself to ask.

The man suddenly turned and glared at him, but it was a look of death, what he expressed that greeted him from the glimmering white cheeks.

He grinned. “I’m merely offering my services.” he politely answered. “No need to concern yourself, young boy.” The light of the orbs danced in his eyes as his lips slightly curved, fashioning a grimace. It was hard to tell the true beauty of his features in the darkness.

“It’s time an old friend had a rude awakening. He’s been neglectful,” he softly whispered.

Edward trembled; he didn’t know who the man was. The fact that he had his own motives frightened him. That was the day he had acquired the crystal. A day that was very much burned into his mind forever.

Dr. Edwards shivered, jerking himself back to the present. He shook his head. He wanted to bury his memories long ago, but they always found him, no matter how hard he tried. He always recalled the boy he had once been, the boy whose surname he bared as a lasting reminder of that day.

He cringed at the idea or the reason for the crystal's sudden rise, and the very thought almost alarmed him, but he didn't want to think about it. And yet, he wondered, had it been nothing more than the energy between him and Claudia?

But if anything should happen…

There was a knock at the office door. And before he could say a word, Michael stood at the doorway

The crystal stopped glowing as Dr. Edwards immediately put it away. Looking into Michael’s eyes, although he hadn't given it much thought, for some reason, he knew right away what needed to be said.

"Michael, I want you to make me a promise."

"Anything, old friend. What is it?"

"If anything ever happens to me, promise me you'll look after Claudia."

"Neil, what are you talking about?"

Dr. Edwards felt the crystal in his coat pocket again; its light hummed, but only he could hear it.

"Just promise me.”

Michael stepped into the office, immediately closing the door behind him. What a strange thing to say, Michael thought, but his friend had always been the dramatic type. It didn't surprise him.

"I must know she'll be taken care of if something were to happen to me," Dr. Edwards said.

"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing's going to happen,” Michael said, trying to smile under his uncertainty.

But Dr. Edwards’ worried expression stared up at him, and he knew something was wrong.

Dr. Edwards lifted the crystal from his pocket and put it on his desk. Michael recognized the glowing object; he had seen the crystal many times before. Dr. Edwards had often talked about it, talked about how he had acquired it and what it was for. But he had never seen it giving off such a beautiful color before, so he didn’t know what its purpose was.

"Why is it glowing? Is that normal?” Michael nervously asked.

"I'm not sure,” Dr. Edwards said; he had never been sure about the colors or what they meant. "It’s important I talk to Claudia before it's too late," Dr. Edwards urgently said.

"It could be nothing," Michael said doubtfully. "Perhaps we’re just alarmed for no reason."

"The crystal has two purposes," Dr. Edwards exclaimed, rising from behind his desk. "To keep evil away and to protect the wearer. We know that. You've seen it. How can you say that?" Dr. Edwards asked.

"I'm just saying, it could be…nothing. I mean, you said yourself you’re not sure. You said that."

"I've also said an entity will awaken the energy within it." He then thought about his own words for a moment

"Can Claudia?" Michael suggested, and only when Michael had, did Dr. Edwards wonder the same possibility. Could it have been awakened by Claudia's arrival? It made perfect sense, didn’t it?

Dr. Edwards glared at him. It was an unusual question, not one they had ever considered before, but how would that be possible? It had never had that effect on him. And if they were the same, then it couldn't possibly be her that had stirred it awake, could it? For if it were so, then he had just made the biggest mistake in bringing her here.

"I'm not sure." Dr. Edwards' lips quivered. “That’s why I’m afraid that perhaps I have made a horrible mistake in bringing her here.” He looked up at Michael. “Just promise me that no matter what happens to me, you’ll always protect her."

"I promise," Michael said. "I won't let anything happen to her."

8

Claudia Belle

Escaping the old man was one thing. But what faced me instead, if not his questions and concerns, was high school. Eyes turned to see the new kid as I made my way through the side doors, past the cafeteria entrance. They knew who I was long before I stepped in. One would think I was somewhat of a celebrity.

Was that a good thing? Not when you consider what sort of celebrity status my background had given me, meaning that I was the principal's granddaughter; if I hadn't considered it before, I was seriously considering it now.

How strange, one minute you’re eating cereal at your family’s breakfast table, and the next, you’re riding to school on a busy day. You awake with a new life with no one to tell you what has happened, where your family is, and why you’re all alone. Then they jam a whole bunch of information about a grandfather you’ve never met and plan to stick you there. Their lives go on, and yours just ends there in a new world you know nothing about.

So, this is my new world now? The cold faces of reality staring back at me as I moved along the hallway. My father’s message to me, what did it mean? Why was he afraid? My father had never feared anything.

The faces in front of me told me their thoughts. I could hear into their minds, but it was never coherent, never inaudible, only chatter channeling through my mind, piercing my thoughts like distorted radio sounds. That’s how I knew my parents were dead before Mr. West told me. That’s how I knew my whole life had changed.

What they knew, I knew too.

My father wanted to protect me, but protect me from what or who? My father had the ability, something we shared together. But he was good at hiding it and knew when I would try to read him. And now, what had once made me feel special was making me feel like a freak.

The hallway stretched ahead, crowds of students spread a path, looking in my direction as I raced past them hastily. I longed for solitude, a place to hide from all this. But where could I go? I had nothing, nothing but my memories, memories of once having a home to call my own, a place among the secure embrace of my parents. And now they were gone and I would never see them again. I couldn't understand that.

It’s not fair.

At this thought, my father's voice found its way into my mind, his image well burned in my thoughts forever. It was an image of him standing outside my bedroom when he told me we were going to be moving. But then I didn’t know it would just be me; I didn’t know what my father’s intentions really were.

“But I like Trent, daddy. Why must we leave? I don’t want to go,” I had voiced.

"Because you’re my daughter, and I’m not giving my only daughter to that family,” he very firmly answered. I didn’t understand that, but I didn’t have to because my father knew what was best for me.

He was a handsome man, and I often wondered why I hadn’t gotten his beautiful blond hair or his clear blue eyes. He told me I was beautiful the way I was, and that’s why he had married my mother.

"It’s not fair," I protested regarding our trip, he came to sit upon my bed.

“Life isn’t fair, but you make the best with what you got, sweetheart."

I knew the words by memory; they found their way out of my mouth. I could always count on his words to comfort me, but now, what kind of reassurance would they bring me? Life had shown its ugly self as a truly selfish part of existence.

I raced up the stairwell, hoping to hide away if only for a brief moment. I found the girl's restroom around the corner on the second floor. There, I ducked into the last empty stall and collapsed. And for a moment, I did nothing, but then I started crying. Above the pipes rattled and groaned at the sounds of my sobbing, and I thought they would burst.

"Stop!" I yelled, and the pipes settled and became quiet. And amongst the silence, the bell rang in the distance. For a moment, I heard student voices clearing the halls, racing from one end to the other, doors slamming, tennis shoes sliding across waxy floors, and then finally, there was silence save the sound of my breath.

For a brief moment it remained silent, but then the bathroom door slowly crept open and I heard an eerie whistling, a catchy, yet creepy melody. It went up in tone, stretched, holding it up there, and then it started over again. Steps followed, echoing upon the marble flooring. Perhaps it was one of the other students coming to use the bathroom?

I became still, quietly listening and hoping they would leave quickly. The whistling continued in front of the bathroom sink, until I heard the faucet turning and water running.

Through the cracks of the stall, I couldn't see who it was or where they were standing. A few steps more and a figure came into clear view. A tall, slender blond-haired man, dressed in a black suit and red tie stood facing the bathroom sinks. It seemed normal enough except for the simple fact that he was in the girl's restroom. But there he was, facing the mirror so naturally, so nonchalantly.

How strange.

In a very robotic manner, he tilted his head slightly as he glanced at himself in the mirror. It seemed almost as if he were looking at himself for the first time. He had dull eyes, fairly large and round, and his jaw sunk into his long and pale face. He had the darkest eyes and the slimmest lips that curved into a sinister smirk.

Brushing a finger across his ghostly eyebrows, the stranger wiped his hands with a paper towel, and then straightened his tie. His reflection flickered slightly, distorting his image briefly; hollow eyes and a skull of porcelain teeth formed out of a hooded head at the opposite side of the mirror, staring back at him. Above, the lights flickered again, and then it was gone!

The whistling continued.

I moved back, my heart pounding against my chest. Had I just seen that? Was it real? I nearly stumbled, choking back the scream in my throat as I fell forward against the bathroom stall again.

The whistling stopped suddenly as our eyes met from the reflection in the mirror. Discovered, I pulled away from the door. Had he seen me?

Oh, but there was no question about it. Of course he had. I bravely peeked through the crack of the stall again and found the spot empty. I glanced around but couldn't get a good look at the rest of the bathroom from within the stall.

“Boo,” suddenly a pair of dark blue eyes startled me from the other end of the stall. A scream escaped my mouth, and I stumbled away horrified. A pipe burst above my head, and for a moment, I stood there, staring at the stall door and unable to move while the water from the pipe above sprinkled down over me. Finally, I moved forward, pushing open the stall and carefully stepping out.

As I stood outside the open stall, I realized I was alone. The light above the sink mirror flickered slightly as I took a step forward. I was now standing at the very spot where he had stood before. I couldn’t forget his eyes and that clever all-knowing grin upon his face.

My reflection in the mirror stared back at me. The light flickered, but this time, he was there standing behind me, near an open stall, with the same ill-looking gaze. The lights went out, and he jumped closer towards me. I spun around to face him, my hands clutching the sink behind me as I pushed up against it. But when I did, he wasn’t there. He was gone again.

Nearby, a small puddle formed at the stall where I had been before. And as I looked towards it, the stall door began to crack open. The sound of the pipe slightly spraying down into the stall kept me from going insane. I could sense something staring at me from the darkness inside, quietly waiting.

Startled by the school bell, I quickly grabbed my school bag and rushed out of the restroom.

I hurried down the hallway that led into an open area view of the first floor. Below was the auditorium entrance with Go Buffaloes, a cartoon drawing of a buffalo puffing air out of his nostrils, decorating the outside wall.

Near the railing, overlooking the auditorium, is where I saw him again. The man in the black suit and red tie was standing very still. For some strange reason, I felt he was waiting for me. I couldn't explain it, but when his gaze met mine, it seemed to beckon me forward. A cold chill raced up the side of my arm as his head came forward, and his dark blue eyes stared motionless at me from the long vacant expression on his dull gaze. Like a ghostly apparition, his lips parted slightly, whispering something I couldn’t understand. Could no one else see this? He pointed a bony finger at me, and his lip curved as his eyes smiled and danced from that hollow and cold gaze.

I backed away, falling into the paths of two men. Terrified, I whirled around, and for a moment neither one said a word; the taller of the two, wearing a green suit coat, managed a wave. He wasn't easy to ignore as his towering figure came to stand in front of me.

"Finding your classes alright Claudia?" The tall blond figure, a dead ringer for Ed Harris, politely asked.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to introduce ourselves. I’m Mr. Claypool and this is Mr. Vasquez. Are you alright?” He asked as his friend Mr. Vasquez smiled warmly down at me. He was quite a tall man, even taller than Mr. Claypool.

I nodded, still trembling. I glanced back, but the man in the black suit and red tie was gone. I couldn't make sense of what I had seen. Did I doubt my own eyes? I quickly realized that if he had been there, only I had had the pleasure of seeing him.

I turned back and tried to stop trembling, hoping they wouldn’t ask any more questions.

But it wasn’t the first time I had seen things or made things happen. The plumbing in my house had busted once or twice before. I had even flooded the basement. But this was different than some plumbing issue, and I knew that.

Making pipes burst or weather change in minutes was something I could understand. And predicting certain events was not something new to me, but I couldn't find any answer for him, and the more I thought about it, the more I wished I had not seen him. It was almost as if I wasn't supposed to see him.

Or could it be that I was? Who was he? Or worst of all, what was he? A spirit, a ghost? He definitely wasn’t human. I almost knew what he was, but I couldn’t say it. And I felt it, the bony hand creeping up my shoulder like the withering tree branches reaching for me, reaching for my soul.

My father would have known what to do. And yet, I doubted it, but at least I wouldn't be alone. I wouldn't be the freak among the others. My hair was dripping wet, and students whispered and thought terrible things.

Look at the weirdo…

I had been through the same dance back in my old school, but this time I was definitely alone.

"Don't be shy to ask us for help. Okay?" Mr. Claypool kindly offered. Mr. Vasquez nodded, his goofy head bobbing; the thick mustache extended over his lip and made his lips disappear beneath it.

Had they not noticed the obvious water? They didn’t seem to until a few students rushed up to them to tell them the girl’s bathroom was flooding. Only then did they look at me.

"Ah, Claudia. Would you happen to know anything about this?"

I managed a half-guilty smile. And then they noticed the trail of wet footprints coming from the restroom. Honestly, I hadn’t noticed them myself until then.

And I wasn’t sure if they were my footprints or the ghostly man’s.

Michael had long ago left Dr. Edwards' office by the time Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez entered. Claudia was with them. Happy to see them and aware he had called for them to his office earlier in the morning, he was surprised to see Claudia with the two men. Lost for words, he glanced at the men in question.

"Why is your hair wet?" he asked Claudia, oblivious to the flooding.

"Sir, the second-floor pipe busted in the girl's restroom,” Mr. Vasquez suddenly spat out, sounding so arrogant, Claudia almost laughed.

"What were you doing out of class?" Dr. Edwards asked Claudia, ignoring Mr. Vasquez's sudden outburst.

"I had to go,” she mumbled sarcastically, making Mr. Claypool slightly smirk. He stopped only when Dr. Edwards glared at him.

"Sir, if I may. Those pipes are pretty old. Best they burst now so we can ask for money in the budget to repair the rest."

Dr. Edwards sighed; he knew the pipes were not an accident. It most likely had to do with the fact that the crystal hadn't stopped glowing since Claudia had arrived. Not that pipes were a frequent problem, but they were nevertheless an issue.

"Perhaps I should take her to the nurse's office. Mrs. Jenkins always keeps a spare pair of clothes in her office for such an emergency," Mr. Claypool suggested.

"Claudia, it’s important we talk," Dr. Edwards said to Claudia.

"You heard them. It wasn't my fault. The pipes burst. Can I please go?" she firmly asked.

"Claudia, I understand you’re having a difficult time adjusting, but…"

"No! You don't understand! Everyone thinks they do, but no one really does, and neither you nor this place will make a difference because my parents will still be dead! And no one can change that! So why don't you all just leave me alone?"

She stormed out the door before he could say anything else.

The two assistant principals didn't say a word, and he didn't expect them to. Instead, he gave them an assignment they couldn't possibly mess up.

"We'll keep an eye on her, Sir," Mr. Claypool said, leading Mr. Vasquez out with him.

"Please see that you do, and have Mrs. Wallace call the plumber. Tell her to use my credit card," he softly whispered. They nodded and left him alone.

Dr. Edwards reached into his pocket and noticed the crystal had taken on a darker shade of blue. He wondered what it meant.

He had wondered the first time the same thing, but in his haste, he left the man in the black cloak behind, hurrying to the palace grounds to find his mother. He knew where she would be, and the crystal color had changed when he arrived at the door of the white large room where she was kept. He had crept towards the door slowly; the crystal turned the color blue. He immediately tore a thin thread from the linens he wore, tying one end to the crystal cylinder and the other into a knot. Then placed it around his neck, making sure to hide it under his collar. When he was sure it was hidden, he poked his face through the small opening of the door and looked inside.

The room was very large and beautiful with elegant statues lining the wall. Quinn fancied the culture of Rome and Greece, he recalled. And he’d often spoken of the days he’d visited the human worlds merely for those reasons.

Edward had seen these visions throughout the lands of this world. There were signs in the many gardens, as well as the grounds of the palace, inside and out, and even throughout the forests of the kingdom.

Not sensing his master around, he came inside very slowly, spotting his mother’s youthful figure upon the royal bed; she seemed to be sleeping very peacefully. Usually, she slept under Quinn’s spell, and Edward feared he wouldn’t be able to wake her if he had to. Years apart, she seemed to still be near his age. It was odd that he had never found it strange then until he was recalling the events of that day. And perhaps he would have never found it strange until their journey to this world had brought her age into question.

Edward neared the side of the bed; she didn’t stir as he took a seat beside her and caressed the top of her head in hopes she’d awaken. Upon her neck, he saw the very collar that had kept him a prisoner just as it now kept her. He recalled the man in the black cloak’s hand as he pulled it off his neck without a struggle, and now he wondered if he had the power to do the same. But he found the laughter of the man in the black cloak mocking his thoughts.

She is lost…

He kept saying it, but Edward dared not believe him.

He put his hand on the collar and jolted back when the necklace jewels snapped at his fingers. He realized he alone could not free her from it. His mother didn’t move. She hadn’t since he had sat upon the bed beside her. No doubt she was under Quinn’s control. His control stretched beyond the palace.

He panicked, part of him longing to escape, and yet he didn’t want to leave her. He had failed to make the man tell him how to free his mother before he retreated. Even if he could free her, he didn’t know how, but there had to be a way. He knew that if he tried to move her, the master would know and come immediately.

Then he saw it as clearly as he heard it humming from the linens of his collar. The crystal glowing filled the white of the collar in the dark blue aura. He lifted it from the linens and gripped it tightly in his hand; part of the pointy end faced out, and he carefully brought it down over the jeweled collar.

The collar was glowing a bright red; in fact, it seemed to have been awakened by the light of the crystal, the blue beaming clashing with the bright red radiance of the collar. But nothing happened until both touched, and then immediately the collar snapped apart and dropped beside his mother’s head. At once, she opened her eyes and looked up as if she had just awoken from a deep, restful sleep. When she caught sight of him, she immediately sat up and pulled him to her.

Edward held her tightly as he breathed her in. “I thought I had lost you forever,” she whispered into his ear.

“You’ll never lose me,” Edward replied, holding onto her tightly. She pulled away, suddenly confused by their sudden freedom, and she searched his eyes for the answer.

At this, he lifted the crystal and said, “We don’t have to be afraid anymore. We can get away from him. He can’t hurt us as long as we have this.”

Dr. Edwards thought about it now. Had he really believed he would never hurt them?

The thoughts, or perhaps the words of a naïve boy then, but nevertheless, the color blue meant safety, meant energy, good energy. The dark blue was a stronger energy no doubt. She, Claudia, was strong like his mother. Of course, what else could it have meant? Only now he knew better. He recalled what he had wanted to forget.

9

High School Acquaintances

Mrs. Jenkins certainly had quite a bit of spare clothes, old garments from the previous students who had left them behind in the gym. A donation box was set up in the nurse’s office.

After towel drying my hair, I went through the items, but there was no way I was going to wear any of them. My life as a student at Milton High might as well be over if I had done so. Some items seemed older than the seventies.

The bell rang as I left the nurse's office. Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool were standing in the hallway when I came out. I tried to ignore them, even though they did a very poor job of pretending to not notice me. Of course, I knew they were there. They were very bad about not looking so obvious. I thought of coming up to them but decided on just walking to my next class instead.

The second bell rang as I entered history class, and I found a seat in the back. I hurried before my eyes found something to stare at; I only hoped that the teacher didn't call on me to introduce myself to my fellow classmates, seeing as I was the principal’s granddaughter. They might have figured it was something required.

The way the teacher looked at me, I supposed it was personal. Perhaps the old man had something to do with that. You don't get disliked as much as I did until the news starts spreading that you’re related to the head of the school. It was apparent the news had been passed around fairly quickly. The teacher appeared resentful. A few students looked back at me in the same manner, whispering and staring here and there. They probably thought I got special treatment because of the old man.

"Hey. You’re Claudia Belle, aren't you?" A girl in front of me spun around to face me. Her bouncy brown curly hair fell over her square dark-framed glasses. Caught by surprise, I didn't answer right away. I didn't want to admit it, but it didn't seem to be a question, it was clear she already knew.

"I'm Tina Watkins," she volunteered a hand. I hesitated. Did people still shake hands?

"I think that's so cool, you being related to the principal. I bet you can get away with a lot of things," Tina exclaimed with a grin. A sigh of relief escaped my mouth. This was a fact I hadn’t considered.

"So, how do you like Milton so far?" Tina asked. I found her strangely odd, almost robotic in some ways. She seemed overzealous, extremely pleasing, and yet could it be that perhaps I wasn't used to someone as friendly as Tina?

She seemed to be far more interested in me than what the teacher was writing on the chalkboard. The teacher cleared his throat at one instant to get her to turn around. Then he moved away as their eyes met briefly. How strange that she had him look away. The teacher continued with his instructions on the chalkboard again. Writing a list of what we would need for the class and our very first assignment of the year. After a few more minutes of this, the bell rang above us.

I exited the class with the rest of the students, with the teacher now standing behind his desk watching the class clear. I only turned back when I noticed Tina slowly pass the teacher’s desk and eyeball him. But it was the manner in which she did so, slowly sweeping a single finger upon the edge of his desk. But she did not just simply sweep a finger, she used the end of her fingernail to scratch the top of the desk. I didn’t think much of it. I had seen my share of students go rogue enough to know that perhaps she was one of those. So I moved quickly and hurried away. But as soon as I thought I was far from the classroom, Tina appeared alongside me in from among the crowded hallway.

“Hey, what’s your hurry?” she said nonchalantly. Almost with a clear idea I was trying to desperately escape her. That I felt I had to justify my sudden escape.

“I’m just getting to class.” I tried to say.

She stayed right alongside me.

I had never had any girl friends. Then again, I had never had any real friends at all. Perhaps I just didn't know how to be friendly or how to react to someone like Tina who seemed nothing but polite.

"So, who do you have next?" Tina asked. I noticed the teacher, Mr. Peterson, staring back at us from the doorway a distance from the classroom.

"What's his problem?" I asked. "He hasn't stop staring at me since I got into his classroom.” Or correction, was it her that troubled him and now my unnatural alliance with her was making me a target of further trouble.

Tina started laughing. "Oh, don't let him bother you. He's a religious fanatic. Probably thinks you're a demon or something and wants to exorcise you," Tina sarcastically said.

"What?" I uttered, staring back at Mr. Peterson who was standing outside his classroom. The man grabbed at the golden crucifix from around his neck.

"I'm just kidding with you. That man is way bitter,” she said. "He thinks Dr. Edwards is the devil.”

"What? Why?" I exclaimed.

Tina laughed, "He thinks everyone's the devil. Ever since Dr. Edwards made him take down the crucifix from the walls, he's been like that."

"A crucifix? So I guess he still believes in prayer in school?" I asked.

"Something like that." Tina grinned. “I think he thinks he’s like Jesus Christ reborn.” She laughed.

"Great," I whispered. "As if I need any more problems."

"Some teachers get so attached to their classrooms you think it's their house or something. And they think they can hang up all sorts of crap," Tina added, rolling her eyes. She glared back at Mr. Peterson, a look that sent the adult fleeing into his classroom. I found it odd that a grown man would scare so easily. Maybe he really was crazy.

"So…" Tina asked, turning back to me. "Who do you have next?” She smiled, revealing a set of straight white teeth.

I tried not to let Tina's zealous smile overwhelm or disturb me. I looked down at my schedule card and found math with Mr. Thompson and PE on the list. I had already missed my first two classes: English and Science.

"We should memorize each other’s schedule cards,” she suggested with a full smile. It sounded a bit odd to me, but I figured there was no harm to it.

"You have English with Mr. McClellan." Tina frowned. "Oh, bummer,” she simply said.

"Do you have him?" I asked her, wondering why it was a bummer as she had put it.

"Nah, I had him last year. Now I have some old hag named Mrs. Whitman. God, I hate her class,” Tina said.

A few students passed us by, and she waved in a robotic-like way, as if she was programmed to do so. She seemed almost unreal, just as unreal as her smile. I wondered why she was talking to me. Could it be my status in this place, being the granddaughter of the principal? Or was there another reason? I wasn’t much for conversation with others, I faired alone better. And often wondered whether that was the attraction to others, my distance?

"Hey! What lunch period do you have?" Tina suddenly asked. I didn't answer right away, so Tina looked down at my card.

"You have B lunch like me. Maybe we can sit together!" Tina suggested like it wasn’t a question. I smiled, nodding, unable to offer anything else.

"Well, I got to get to class. I'll see you around. Don't be a stranger," Tina said and was swept away by the crowd in the other direction.

I felt alone and unpopular as I moved through the crowd.

After math class with Mr. Thompson, I came down the hall towards the cafeteria. I spotted the old man in the hallway and decided to go in the other direction. I knew I couldn't avoid him forever and that eventually we would have to talk. But for now, I wanted to avoid him if I could.

He hadn't been there all my life, and now he wanted to be a part of it. No amount of apologizing was going to make a difference. I honestly didn't care to know what his reasons were.

Did my father have the slightest idea about why he had never been part of our lives? Could it be the reason I had sensed sadness in my father?

There was a drawer in his office that was always locked and I often wondered why I’d find him urgently closing it just as I would come into his office to tell him dinner was ready. What did it contain?

I noticed Mr. Thomas, the security guard, along with another security guard, a Hispanic fellow. He appeared to be in training. They both glared at me as if I were up to something. I tried to smile; although, neither one of them smiled back. I figured they thought I was just another troublemaker like all the other kids they run into. And it didn't matter if the old man was my grandfather; they seemed like the kind of men that didn't care for such details.

A few students behind me wandered out of the stairwell and into B-lunch, catching the guards’ attentions. I stood at the entrance of the crowded cafeteria for a few seconds, staring into a mass of faces, none of which I recognized. But finally and reluctantly, I walked in and got into the lunch line.

I figured it was get in line or have lunch with the old man, and I didn't feel like having a discussion about my troubles with someone I didn’t even know. What did he know about what had happened? What did he know about their lives? He claimed he didn’t mean to leave or abandon my family, but he did.

I paid my lunch and wandered around, trying to pretend I knew where I was going. It was my only defense, even though I might as well have been walking in circles.

Then I saw her with her arm stretched upward; you’d think she was signaling a plane down. Tina would have stood on the table just to get my attention. She waved me over when I looked in her direction. A great big smile surfaced on her distant, soulless face, like she wasn’t all in there. She greeted me, sitting in the far back of the cafeteria apart from the rest of the student mass. Just a few friends surrounded her.

I followed the pattern of her thoughts, and a wave of distorted sounds greeted me from the hollow of her head, and I got a raw glare shot from her so quickly, it nearly frightened me. I stopped sensing; it had been rude of me. And just like that, she smiled at me most innocently, tilting her head slightly sideways like a puppy. Perhaps it had been rude of me to wander into her thoughts, but I sometimes didn’t realize I was doing it. Either way, it was a bad habit I couldn’t control.

Tina’s friends immediately looked up as if I were someone important, and she introduced me to them. They all seemed friendly, except for one.

Sean looked like the class president. He had dark hair, framed glasses, and well-combed locks. He looked up at me from the pages of his Chuck Palahniuk novel. He smiled and put the book down; it seemed his attention had been diverted from Mr. Palahniuk to me. Somehow, I thought it was rarely ever diverted, but for some reason, today was different. He seemed out of place, an intellectual in a cafeteria filled with misfits, quite the opposite of Tina and the other two. He looked like an English gentleman in a sea of high school idiots.

“Hello,” his musical voice said, and I blushed.

Ruben, a skater, seemed to be in the middle of stuffing a piece of bread into his mouth when I happened to step into the picture. Ruben had shady golden locks and a delicately structured face; there was a surprising metallic ring piercing his lip. He froze up when I looked in his direction, swallowing the bread and nearly choking it down.

"That's gross," Alex exclaimed. She was dressed in black and lace with a corset. I couldn’t tell if she was ready for a funeral or a heavy metal concert. She rolled her blue eyes when Ruben directed his attention towards me, he then shyly waved in greeting.

She wasn’t as welcoming as the others, sizing me up with a not so friendly glance. She pushed back her black, shoulder-length hair, darting her clear blue eyes over at me with a sneer.

"Oh look it’s Pocahontas…with daisies." she rudely said.

I assumed Pocahontas was in reference to my long brown hair and bronzed skin. The insult wasn’t a new one, but I was embarrassed that she insulted my daisy-patterned blouse since it was my favorite flower and top.

I took a seat next to Tina, facing Alex and Ruben.

"It was my mother's favorite," I admitted, feeling slightly childish. I assumed the Goth girl thought so too by the way she stared back at me when I said that, rolling her eyes as she did.

Ruben and Sean seemed to silently absorb my every word as Tina had. I wondered if they both knew about my parents. Maybe it could explain their behavior. Perhaps they felt a little sympathy for me?

“I think it’s lovely,” Ruben said with a smile.

“Daisies have always been one of my favorite flowers,” Tina proudly voiced.

“They’re known to represent innocence and purity,” Sean said with curved lips.

Alex wrinkled an eyebrow. “Innocence and purity?” She rolled her eyes at them. “Really?” There was an uncomfortable silence for a long second among the table.

"So, what do you guys do during lunch other than eat?" I asked, hoping to break the icy silence.

Alex glared at me, but the others seemed eager to answer my stupid question.

"Mostly talk about other people," Alex said, her red lips curving at me. I managed a smile and figured I had already been one of her victims.

"So, your grandfather is the principal, huh?" Alex asked. Sean’s eyebrows folded over his brown eyes. He seemed bothered by the sudden turn in conversation. Somehow I sensed this hadn’t been news to them. Who didn’t know by now that I was related to Dr. Edwards?

I nodded, hoping to get off of the topic, and then I picked up my fork and started picking at what looked like mashed potatoes.

"So like, you can do whatever you want?" Alex asked.

"I guess," I managed to say, distracted by what appeared to be meatloaf on my plate. I looked up suddenly and noticed the two assistant principals enter the cafeteria.

Alex looked back and saw them too.

"Friends of yours?” she asked. “Looks like your bodyguards are here. And just in time,” she added in a musical tone.

"Alex," Tina firmly said, darting her eyes at the raven Goth girl’s cold face. She turned to me with a glance that said, “ignore her”.

"They're not my bodyguards," I answered back like a little kid to her bullies, but it was impossible to defend myself from a stupid comment like that.

I hoped Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez wouldn't see me, but right at that moment, they looked over at me and both waved and smiled. I just about died, wanting to return the smile but dreading the consequence of doing so, especially when Alex folded a lip and grinned back at me.

"You know them?” Alex asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was clear I knew them. Nevertheless, she made me rethink my answer. They all immediately darted their eyes over at me. Was knowing school officials a big no-no among them? Or were they merely curious about what my answer would be?

"No. Not really." I said, lowering my head, knowing I may have been lying just a bit.

“How could she? This is her first day,” Tina answered for me, almost laughing at the notion, reassuring them quite oddly. She added a chuckle; Alex frowned at her oddness. Tina seemed strange all around; I could agree with that. It was like she had lost a couple of marbles up there, and I was glad I wasn’t the only one that thought her peculiarity strange.

“We make it a rule to stay away from authority figures when we’re skipping,” Alex explained.

“I don’t trust them. They’re useless puppets with detention slips,” she snarled from the other end of the table.

The others didn’t say much of anything. I noticed Sean had resumed reading his book, observing me from behind his framed-glasses whenever he had a chance. Odd that he was still intrigued by the pages of a hardback book rather than a cellphone like most kids our age.

“They’re wasting their time trying to get this place up to code,” Alex firmly stated; among the group, she seemed to be the only one talking and the only one that seemed to care. Sean was busy with his book, but from time to time he would look up at me; Tina and Ruben strangely observed the scene from the other end.

“I agree. There are far more important things to worry about,” Sean declared in a whisper from the pages of his book; he was wearing a callous smirk. I couldn’t help but feel he was talking about something different, when again, I found him looking at me and grinning.

“Who cares if this school falls apart? I think it looks fine the way it is. It gives it character, far more character than some of those here.” Alex continued glancing around the cafeteria.

Sean slightly repositioned his glasses, narrowing his large eyes over at me as Alex continued her rant. He appeared slightly annoyed by her, as they all seemed to be.

Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez walked up to the front of the cafeteria and stood there. It felt like they were keeping an eye on me, but ridiculous as that sounded, I knew it was the truth. They kept glancing over at our table. I had the strangest feeling they wanted to come by and say hello. But they resisted; perhaps because I ignored them.

“You guys aren’t skipping now, are you?” I curiously asked, not knowing what else to say.

Alex wrinkled her nose at me. “You’re not going to tell on us, are you, Pocahontas?" She twisted the pentagram necklace around her neck, lifting an eyebrow at me, noticing the look on my face.

"Alex,” Tina hissed in my defense.

"Just asking," Alex said with a grin, picking at her food.

"What the hell is this?" she exclaimed, lifting a piece of food from her tray.

"You should really get your grandfather to do something about the cafeteria food," she suggested, dropping the food back on the tray in disgust.

"Don't listen to anything Alex says. She’s just being…funny,” Tina firmly said, glaring over at the girl in black in disgust. She looked just as annoyed as the others, but for whatever reason, they remained seated like a group of mannequins. The only live character seemed to be the one insulting me.

“She’s the only one here skipping,” Sean answered me. “And as for character, she has none. Literature builds it----far more than the black lace wardrobe she wears,” Sean said, raising his eyes from his book and referring to Alex’s previous remark. He readjusted his glasses and handsomely smirked.

She flipped him off, merely glaring in his direction.

“Fuck you! Everyone skips class. It’s a teen requirement to skip class,” she angrily replied, but Sean didn’t respond to her little comment, concentrating instead on the book in front of him.

“You’re just trying to impress Pocahontas,” she said to him. Sean’s eyes blinked; his face became a firm frown, but as soon as Alex dropped the argument, he seemed to do the same.

“Her name is Claudia!” Tina firmly corrected.

“Whatever.” Alex uttered, glaring over at Sean. “What can I say? He’s in denial.” She suddenly added this with a laugh. The table was quiet; only the sound all around us kept me from feeling the ugly discomfort of it.

"Do you guys trust my grandfather, Dr. Edwards?” I suddenly asked, hoping to both alleviate the uneasy silence among us and the weirdness they were making me feel. They almost immediately glanced over at me.

“Don’t you?” Ruben redirected from behind the strands of his thick shady hair. I just about turned a bright red. Did I trust him?

“I don’t know,” I honestly answered. They all seemed to glance back at me in wonder and curiosity.

“I haven’t really talked to him since I got here,” I shamefully admitted.

“Why?” Tina asked. “I mean, he is your grandfather, right?”

“That’s just it. I don’t even know him,” I admitted. “I only met him a week ago.” No doubt it was the truth, all the way down to what I felt about the old man. I couldn’t even call him grandfather except in reference.

“When I first found out my parents…had died…that was the first time I found out I had a grandfather,” I admitted.

“No way! You mean you’ve never met him up until now?” asked Ruben doubtfully.

I nodded as Sean put his book down and removed his glasses. My words had erupted the interest in his eyes.

“How does that happen?” Ruben asked, still dumbfounded. Did I honestly want to tell them everything that my father had said, the message revealing my new caretaker? How do you explain that to strangers?

“I guess since he was my only living relative, I had no choice. He had all the documentation to prove who he was. But…”

He had all of the documentation because he was my father’s father, my grandfather. Had I only believed it because my father had sent me here? Although, he had never revealed it to me. Or did I believe it because I had seen it in the old man’s mind? Then why was I in denial? Maybe I was in denial because I couldn’t understand why he had been out of my life and then suddenly wanted to be a part of it.

“You had your doubts?” Sean abruptly asked. I glanced up at him, and he smiled. Perhaps not doubts, just questions, a lot of questions for him.

“I would have been suspicious as well. He just shows up, shows you them the right papers, and says the right things. And you never met him until last week.”

I tried to smile. He chuckled, shaking his head. But of course he didn’t know the entire story, but yes, it was something like that.

“So then your parents die, and you find out he exists? What do you say to something like that?” Tina asked, leaning forward.

“I don’t know,” I honestly answered. “I didn’t believe it at first. My parents had never talked about any other family. As far as I knew, I didn’t have any other relatives.” And for a moment, I couldn’t believe I was actually opening up to a bunch of strangers. But it was nice to get it out.

Sean put his glasses back on. They made him look serious and observant. “I personally have nothing against Dr. Edwards, but the man does strike me as a little odd,” he admitted.

“I’ve seen him staring at shadows and walls and talking to the pipes,” Tina said rolling her eyes and stabbing her piece of meatloaf with her fork. She seemed off herself, staring wide-eyed as if her meatloaf was wiggling in front of her and trying to escape. She didn’t move for a second until Sean touched her hand, and then her eyes blinked. She smiled as if she had never been away. It all happened so quickly I almost didn’t notice it until she laughed robotically, and Alex was the only other person that found it strange.

“Yeah he’s off,” she again said as if nothing had happened. “I think he thinks this building is alive. The man is scared of his own shadow. I would find it hard to believe anything he said.”

She laughed. Alex wrinkled her nose at her, still not sure where she had gone a few moments ago.

“I guess so,” I softly answered. “But why would he lie?” I openly asked; of course I knew the truth. I just didn’t like it.

“Maybe he hasn’t lied. Perhaps the real question is why he waited so long to come forward?” Sean added, slowly leaning forward again, smiling, and for that brief moment, I couldn’t move. There was something about his eyes. The color seemed off, slightly radiantly swirling. I must have been seeing things, but it seemed so. The way the swirls danced in a mixture of bright blues and purples was mesmerizing. Yes purples, they seemed almost real!

“How unfair to keep you away from me,” Sean said, but as I blinked, he was looking through the pages of his book.

“What did you say?” I doubtfully asked. He looked up at me with a smile. His eyes were very brown now, almost lifeless like their expressions had seemed from the very beginning. It must have been a trick of the light, those colors in his eyes.

“I said, it must have been hard to keep you away,” Sean answered and fell back into the pages of his book.

“Why would somebody do that?” Ruben asked to no one in particular.

“I don’t know,” I answered, trying to forget what I thought I had heard. I really didn’t know, not that I had given the old man a chance to even tell me what he planned to tell me. Cutting him off when he had attempted to.

"Well, I don’t think I could trust someone like that. I mean how can you? What’s he hiding? And what does he want, resurfacing after so many years? He was never in your life, and then suddenly…boom I’m your grandfather!” Ruben exclaimed.

“That sucks. Listen, if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can talk to me,” Tina offered, an oddly wide smile spread over her face, her eyes as wide as the smile.

“It’s all about money,” Alex exclaimed. “The old fart is just after your money! Could be that he’s a con artist. He has all the right documents and said all the right things. I saw a special on it on MSNBC.”

The others all glanced over at her in amazement until she busted into laughter. Apparently she couldn’t hide it anymore, swallowing the gum she had been chewing the entire time.

"Oh come on!” she said. “I’m just messing around. Dr. Edwards is odd; I’ll give him that, but one thing he’s not: is in desperate need of money. I heard he’s loaded. I doubt it’s money he’s after. Perhaps you’re the one after his money,” she said while pointing at me.

Sean frowned at her. “You’re not helping,” he uttered.

I had never believed he had been after my inheritance. What did he want? And why had he waited so long to come forward? What was he hiding?

“Well if not, this might be the best thing that ever happened to you,” Alex said, glancing over at me. “Now you can get whatever you want from the old man. He owes you big time!” Alex exclaimed. “You can probably get a car out of it!”

Sean glared back at me from the pages of his book; I could see he was a little annoyed by Alex. This made me wonder how they had ever gotten along before I came into the picture.

"I don’t want anything from him,” I softly whispered.

“What? I’d take advantage of the situation, sister!” Alex stupidly exclaimed while grinning.

“Well, what a surprise,” Ruben said to Alex.

“I understand how you feel,” Tina immediately responded. She seemed like the nurturing kind, always apologetic, always polite. She bent over backwards to suit my needs, and as much as I appreciated it, I found it rather strange and peculiar at times. But I had to admit, I didn’t have much experience with friends, so what did I know?

Tina and Ruben leaned forward. I heard them whisper, “We need to walk her to class.”

Then smiling, they came even closer. “Can we walk you to class?” Ruben offered.

Sean lifted his eyes from the book. He listened, waiting perhaps to see what I would say.

“I suppose that would be okay,” I said, feeling uneasy by the way they said it, as if I were some kind of celebrity.

Only then did Sean speak, “We can accompany you to all your classes if you’d like. We’re somewhat of a unit now.” The others happily agreed.

“After all, we’re all friends now,” he said.

“You don’t have to. Really,” I answered.

“But that’s what friends do,” Tina said.

“They help each other,” Ruben offered.

“We can hang out after school. You must say yes, Claudia,” Tina pleaded. “We can go to the mall if you like. We can do anything you’d like to do.”

Their eyes needed something from me, an answer perhaps, but I didn’t want to give it to them. I liked them well enough, but I just wasn’t the friend-type. I was used to being on my own. I wasn’t the mall-type either; my idea of a good time or day was sitting in my room painting or drawing.

For god sakes, I grabbed the first thing that made me comfortable when it came to clothes, an easily fitting blouse, a pair of jeans, and my red Doc Martins.

I was a bit of a little rebel, and perhaps that name Alex had been calling me since we’d met hadn’t been that off.

“Well, I’ll have to ask my grandfather,” I softly offered them. They didn’t sound disappointed, but they were more robotic in their understanding than what I’d expected.

“Of course. I’m sure he won’t mind,” Ruben said with a smile that spread upon his face. His eyes sparkled but seemed soulless and empty.

“We can ask him for you if you’d like,” Tina offered. She nodded; her eyes seemed to be as soulless and empty as Ruben’s and Sean’s.

“No, I think I can handle that.” I could see Alex grinning over at me.

“Here take my number,” Tina offered. “If you need anything, call us. It doesn’t matter what time.”

“But won’t your parents get mad if I call late?” I softly asked.

She laughed like I had said a really funny joke. “No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Call us, really, any time you like.”

“You’re suddenly the popular one, Pocahontas,” Alex smiled, coming to sit right beside me. “Creepy, isn’t it?” she whispered as I glared in the distance at the two assistant principals.

"Look at the gruesome twosome up there. You think we can't see them constantly looking over here," Alex said.

"Sorry, I think I’m the reason they’re here,” I honestly admitted, looking over at Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool.

“The…my grandfather has them watching me,” I said.

"He has, has he? Well, you don't have to apologize," Tina politely offered, smiling robotically back at me.

"What? Oh great!" Alex exclaimed. "They're gonna find out for sure that I'm skipping. Thanks a lot, Pocahontas!" She snapped at me.

"Perhaps I should go," I offered and rose, but Tina stopped me.

"Maybe you should!" Alex exclaimed.

"Don’t be ridiculous! Stay!” Tina challenged, pulling me down as I tried to get up; she flashed a set of white teeth at me which made me uneasy.

Alex wrinkled her eyes at them. "Really guys!"

Tina, Ruben, and Sean looked back at her. Angrily, Alex rose, but when she noticed the principals approaching, she immediately sat back down.

"Great. Here they come,” she whispered, trying to hide her face. "If they see me, I'll get another week of detention again for sure. Why did you bring her here, Tina? She’s gonna get me in trouble."

"Perhaps you should have stayed put," Sean offered without glancing from his book. Alex mocked him and offered him her middle finger.

"How mature," he whispered and continued to read.

I rose at once, and even after Tina called out to me, I began to walk towards Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool. I just couldn't allow Alex to get in trouble because of me. They watched as I approached the two administrators, and they greeted me with smiles.

"She saved your ass,” I overheard Tina say to Alex.

"Don't expect me to thank her, your highness!" Alex angrily replied.

"Perhaps you should," Ruben insisted, lifting a brow at her.

"I like her," Sean added, looking up from his book as Alex made a face at him.

"Me too," Ruben agreed.

"Oh fuck you guys!" Alex yelled, leaving the table as I led the assistant principals out the other end of the cafeteria.

I walked into the hallway with Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez and noticed Alex coming from the other end. When Alex saw me talking with the men, I grabbed Mr. Claypool's hand suddenly to lead him in the other direction.

"Would it be alright if you guys show me to my next class?" The old damsel in distress act never failed. My distraction had worked, and I watched Alex ducking into the stairwell nearby and disappearing before they could see her. I hated to think it would have been my fault if Alex got in trouble.

The assistant principals had been more than happy to offer their help, and it seemed I had made their day perhaps by the way they almost skipped alongside me. I had never seen any administrators like these two, but now I was stuck with them, the gruesome twosome, as Alex had described them back in the cafeteria.

And I regretted it for one thing; Mr. Vasquez wouldn't stop talking about faculty get-togethers and dinners at the old man's house. And Mr. Claypool, although kind and sweet, was a bit of a nerd, lecturing me on grades and schoolwork. I thought of what Alex had said about them. They seemed fairly nice to me; unlike anything Alex had described.

"Wait until Christmas. We have faculty parties and then Thanksgiving dinners for the whole staff," Mr. Vasquez went on.

"But that's not what life's all about, you know my dear," Mr. Claypool interrupted, glaring at Mr. Vasquez. "Good grades and studying hard are always more important than parties and such."

They stopped at the end of the hallway; I noticed the entrance to PE class in the distance, but I didn’t just want to dart away. Luckily for me, I was saved by the bell, and as the men kept talking, I broke away.

"Oh, that's me. Thanks for the help Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool," I said and then darted away towards my class.

They watched Claudia as she rushed away. Standing in the hallway, they simply waved and smiled.

"What a nice kid," Mr. Claypool said.

“I like her,” Mr. Vasquez agreed.

10

The Man in The Black Suit and Red Tie

Claudia

Unfortunately, PE was a required class every student had to take, but it would be easy to just sit there. Since I didn't have any real athletic skills, I figured I’d just sit on the bleachers and pass the time. And perhaps some teachers would be sympathetic, and even maybe the fact that Dr. Edwards was my grandfather would giving me some headway.

But when I arrived, the gym seemed to be empty. I glanced at my schedule card. This seemed to be the correct place, but where were all the students? This couldn’t be right. I walked but only a few steps into the empty and quiet gym when a hand from behind startled me. I spun around to meet the round blue eyes of the gym teacher who was rudely staring over at me.

“You’re late,” she said, instructing me to hand over my schedule card with a gesture of her hand.

I was? But hadn’t the bell just rung? If anything, I was fairly early. The gym teacher looked the schedule card over and handed it back to me.

“I was at the principal’s office,” I began to say, but I could tell the gym teacher didn’t care for excuses. She wore a blue and white shirt two sizes too small and tight blue shorts.

“Get into the locker room with the rest of the girls,” she rudely instructed. I tried to smile even when she didn’t in return and slowly began to walk towards the locker room door.

“Oh, and Miss Belle,” she called over to me again. I slowly turned as she stood with her arms on her hips near the entrance of where I had come from. She looked intimidating and very gawky, taller and bigger than most women.

“Let that be the last time you’re late to my class. Understood?” She asked.

I wasn’t late, but there was no sense in arguing with her. I nodded and hurried to the locker room, feeling her eyes following me all the way towards the door until I finally ducked in.

The girl's dressing rooms were a mess of lockers and benches, showers and individual bathroom stalls. The room was covered in a grey checker tile that was stained with years of teenage sweat and adolescent hardship. The walls were fifthly and covered in pen and pencil markings, as were the bathroom stalls from the inside out. The lighting inside was poor; bulbs were loose, some were missing, and a few were out. Only a few lights were now working, some flickeringly. It almost seemed like a dungeon rather than a school locker room.

The other girls were all getting dressed; some already knew the routine and were changing into their gym uniform when I came into an empty locker area. A few girls merely looked in my direction; no one smiled at me or made eye contact, and if they did, it was a roll of the eyes or a mere glance of dislike.

But I was accustomed to the stares of others.

I opened my locker and pulled out my gym uniform from inside of my school bag. Unfortunately, when you have a grandfather for a principal, preparation is required. A few girls looked in my direction, and one couldn’t help knowing their thoughts. I sat there tying my shoes and pulling back my hair when I heard the lipless whispers from them before I actually heard their voices. They talked about you when they smiled, when they whispered and giggled among each other. The lights above flickered; even the pipes began to rattle slightly. I attempted to control my emotions, putting my things into the locker as I tried to ignore them.

The coach’s whistle startled them, and they scattered out of the locker room with the rest of the class towards the basketball court. I gathered my things and closed the locker and began to walk towards the door into the basketball court with the rest. I kept walking until I heard a sound to my right; turning, I thought I saw the side of the dark suited man walking towards the back.

I had to be mistaken, but at that moment I didn’t doubt what I saw. Curiously, I looked around the lockers until I spotted a swinging door to my right, where I clearly saw someone in a dark suit disappear through it. Now I knew I hadn’t been mistaken.

I hurried forward towards the metal door; its glass window reflected water from beyond the other end. I looked back. All the other girls had exited the locker room, and I was alone, glaring at the door in front of me. I could already see the gym teacher’s face, hear her voice and that whistle going off again in my head. I should have headed to the gym with the rest of them, but I didn’t.

Very quickly, I pulled open the door and walked in. Inside, sat a pool a few feet from the entrance, dark and still. The black water moved slightly as if the air itself seemed to stir it. The light, if any, was dim, and those few bulbs hardly lit the large, grey room. Some bulbs were broken, and glass was scattered by the side of the pool, dangerously close to the dark water. I felt a cold breeze touch the back of my neck; it felt almost like a hand, but I knew how stupid that sounded. Nevertheless, the single thought still made me shiver.

I walked closer, trying to see the bottom of the pool but found it difficult. There was no end from where I could see, no bottom below, and I cringed, finding the deep water darker and darker as I moved along. Nervously taking another step closer, I looked once more. Bravely or perhaps stupidly, I stuck my tongue out at the very idea anyone could swim in that very murky water. It looked disgusting.

“I wonder how long they’ve gone without cleaning this dump?” I whispered to myself.

The man in the black suit and red tie was nowhere to be found. Where had he gone? The place seemed empty. There were no other doors, only the one I had come through, and now I turned back to look over at it. The building around me seemed to groan, even rumble as I stood there.

But so suddenly, sounds at the far corner startled me. A bucket rolled out into the dim lighting at a distance from where I stood. I slowly backed away without turning as I peered into the shadows, and then I saw it, an almost unreal and unnatural shadowy figure standing there among the darkness, looking over at me.

I panicked, backing away, but it did not move.

“Hello?” I said stupidly, despite the many times I had scolded countless movie victims for using this method of defense against unknown assailants. And now, here I was, doing the same stupid thing.

Really? Just run!

The water in front seemed to stir; a mass of bubbles gathered, emerging onto the surface. I turned to leave; perhaps that was the smartest thing to do then. But as I did, the shadowy figure came to stand in front of me, and as a scream escaped my mouth, he leaped forward, and I stumbled backwards into the cold water.

Then everything went black.

The crystal began glowing when he put his pencil down. Dr. Edwards saw it again, the color blue, but now the faded blue became a bright blue and slowly evolved into a dark shade of red.

Dr. Edwards only now had come to realize the crystal’s deadly signs as he rose to stand.

He recalled it then as he was seeing it now, turning red before his eyes, the meaning of its deadly colors. His mother was holding him. He felt her warmth and her love until he felt her tremble, and she pulled away. He barely had time to see the look on her pale face before he heard his father’s voice angrily address him from behind.

The word father, a mere thought rather than a fact that he was aware of, but he dreaded each time he looked at his beautiful ghostly face.

“Leave me? There’s no leaving me. Ever!” But his words could only mean one thing; he never meant to let them go free. Why had he freed himself and his mother from him? That’s all he couldn’t understand? Then the figure of his father approached them from the open terrace entrance, gliding down out of the sky.

He didn’t understand how he had known to lift the red crystal that hummed like a wicked warning, like a deadly weapon of unknown origin towards the man that had held them his prisoners for so long. Its beam reflected all around the white palace walls like the rays of the sun.

His father froze suddenly; he seemed frightened of it. Darting back until he was at the opening of the terrace, he hesitated whether to escape himself from this betrayal? But Edward could see his eyes darting back and forth to the figure of his mother sitting on the bed. Edward jumped off of the bed, daring to approach the dark figure whose darkness matched the leather fabrics that covered his defined youthful figure.

“You can’t keep us prisoners anymore!” Edward screamed at the form.

“Mother!” He called to her upon the bed. She slowly moved; his father’s eyes transfixed upon her slender form as it moved from the delicate satin sheets to the cold marble floor and slowly came to stand behind her son.

Edward grabbed her hand and led her away. They only stopped at his father’s sudden pleas. She did love him, and Edward didn’t understand the spell he had upon her. Edward didn’t understand why. He didn’t want to believe it.

“My Maya, please don’t leave me,” his father begged to his mother. She watched him from her place beside Edward. Edward pulled at her hand, and she hesitated.

His father kneeled, “I will let the boy go. I will let him be if you promise to stay with me…forever.”

“No!” Edward yelled and pulled at his mother’s hand, but she barely moved.

“Mom, no! Don’t listen to him!”

But she was under his spell.

His father’s smile reappeared; he was winning her.

“No!” Edward yelled again, lifting the crystal and darting forward. His father screamed and shriveled back, falling away onto the open terrace, and all around, the palace walls began to shatter. He recalled the place coming apart.

What had he done?

Edward moved back, only remembering grabbing his mother’s hand and racing into the halls to escape. She was quiet, running alongside him. He could sense her looking all around. Was she looking for his father, wondering where he lurked? Although he thought the same, her reasons were different.

He had never asked her what had brought them to this reality. It had never occurred to him; this had always been the norm, and only now was he asking these questions. Only now he knew it wasn’t normal.

Why his sudden rebellion? Why his sudden betrayal? Jealousy perhaps? Fear?

But whatever the reasons were, he knew change was coming, and he wouldn’t be part of this world for much longer.

And now it was clear, only now as he moved towards the door reaching for his throat, did he realize his part in this entire wicked scheme. All this waiting, this running, this hiding, it was all for her. For the chosen few like his mother.

He struggled to breathe. The crystal was glowing immensely, covering his desk with a burning red color. Dr. Edwards reached for it, gripping it and cradling it in his hand as if the hold would protect him. After all, hadn’t that been what the man in the black cloak had promised?

“To protect me from what?” he recalled asking.

“From your fear.”

The fear had never ended there. Their escape had been brief.

“There’s no point in hiding from me, for I will always find you,” his father’s words hissed in the dark hallway when Edward saw him again. He searched his pockets for it, the one thing that could send him away. He lifted it, only realizing the figure had vanished, and he stumbled back.

“MOTHER!”

Almost falling as he regained his footing and nearly leaped down the stairs, he dropped the lighter to the ground as he landed at the bottom of the stairs. He ran to the back of the house where his mother had been sleeping. As he came to the entrance, he gasped, paralyzed with fear. His father now stood but a foot from his mother’s bed. The words barely squeezed from Edward’s lips as he saw her eyes open.

She quickly rose from the bed, but his father grabbed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. Edward raced over to her, pulling out the crystal from his pocket. But as he approached, he was flung backwards onto the bedroom wall.

“Mother!” Edward broke in a shaky sweat.

Edward glared at his father as he held his mother, and she struggled in his embrace, unable to pull away. He was much stronger than her, and she couldn’t fight him.

“Please don’t hurt him,” his mother pleaded, unconcerned for herself.

“I have no interest in the boy. It’s only you that I want. You know this, my Maya. It’s always been you. Long have I searched, and now that I have you back in my arms, everything is where it should be again.”

He glanced over at Edward. “He will serve his purpose soon enough.” He wickedly smiled.

“Please just let me go. Please, my son needs me,” she pleaded. Edward slowly rose, but then suddenly he couldn’t move. He had dropped the crystal and spotted it by the hallway entrance.

“Hush now, my Maya. Soon you will forget all this, including him. And we will be together forever!”

“Mom!” Edward called out to her, but he could already see she was falling under the spell again. And even more, when his father put his hand over her forehead, it became clear she was under his control. Edward fought the grip on him, but it was no use.

“MOM! Fight him, Mom!”

His father’s laughter roared, startling Edward as he struggled with his invisible bonds. Behind them, Edward saw a blue gate appear; the vortex to the other realm began to open before his eyes, their means of escape from bondage, a glowing whirlpool.

He knew the blue gate was a doorway to other worlds and places he didn’t understand. If he could reach his crystal, he could stop them, but even if he failed, he would go after them. He was determined. Nothing would stop him, and he swore as his father’s eyes now smiled back at him from the other end of the room. They seemed to know this very detail. The mind reader Edward gasped.

“Mom! Wake up! MOM!” Edward called out, but she couldn’t hear him. She was lost.

“And now your adventure begins, my son,” his father hissed. He extended his hand out. He recalled the blow, the feeling of being knocked out, falling against the wall and the darkness that followed.

Hours later he opened his eyes and sat up, the only thing he realized was that he was alone in a strange place, and he didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t recall, but by luck he found the crystal on the floor near the doorway; found its shine interesting and put it in his pocket. He looked back, heard something in the empty structure that was unfamiliar to him and simply walked away.

Dr. Edwards gripped at his chest. Pain raced throughout his body; a face, Claudia’s face flashed in his mind. There was a splash; she had fallen, and he stumbled, sensing her drop deeper and deeper, the water pulling her in. She struggled but couldn't stay afloat.

Dr. Edwards moved forward but barely made it to the door, wheezing much harder each time the air left his lungs. He gasped as she gasped; her face came up and took a desperate breath and then went under again. Dr. Edwards stumbled to the door, reaching carefully for the knob, barely lifting himself before he dropped to his knees defeated.

He had often wondered if he could go back in search of his mother. Even Michael had once asked this.

“Have you ever thought of returning, of going to find her now that you know the truth?” Michael asked. “You have the crystal. It can open the gate.”

“I have,” Dr. Edwards very softly whispered. He recalled his conversation with Michael long ago.

“And?” Michael persisted.

“I tried once. Returning…”

“And what happened?”

“It brought me to him. Always to him, as if the doorway to Quinn’s realm was locked away forever. And it was… I was his, he said.”

“His? What do you mean?”

“His connection,” Dr. Edwards whispered, looking at the confusion on Michael’s face.

“What have I done? I’ve led him right to you. What have I done?” Dr. Edwards uttered in realization through long breaths.

Claudia came up for air again; she struggled, trying to keep her face above the water, and each time she lost her fight and dropped into the pool. She pushed up and gasped as she did before being swallowed by the water itself.

On his knees, Dr. Edwards fell to the floor; from his hand, the crystal rolled out of his palm and onto the carpet floor, glowing radiantly and untamed.

Claudia disappeared into the dark waters. Her hands vanished into their darkness before she took her last breath, and so did he. The crystal’s light slowly dimmed and became a ghostly white.

Darkness is always the beginning of everything. Can you feel anything at all as it begins? She felt only cold when she opened her eyes. She couldn't make sense of it then or now.

She immediately sat up, realizing she was lying on the cold wet floor, inches from the dark pool. Only her reflection mocked her as she sat up beside it and crawled away from its edge. It was too quiet, too dreadfully quiet. How strange for a large school such as Milton to be so silent when before the pipes themselves would speak right out loud. And she realized the bell hadn’t rung in a while. But then, where had she been all this time? What had happened?

There was an echo, like an eerie ringing but not coming from her ears as she would have thought. It was from all around, like an alarm, a warning of something yet to come. In fact, that’s how she felt, like something or someone was coming.

Claudia rose to her feet, staring towards the eerie pool. Something had happened; she could feel it. And she felt such fear, and yet she had no idea why. She stumbled away from the pool’s edge, sensing dread, sensing something or someone near, as if there was something in the pool.

Around her, the world seemed to bend, then expand. She stumbled away, trying to flee, but suddenly, the tile floor to her left began to crack in front of her. It started to break one by one as if by unseen hands, cracking apart and then finally coming away right before her eyes in her path.

She backed away; it stopped inches from her feet. She moved the other way, and the same thing happened. Something or someone didn't want her to leave, and that's when she felt her eyes drawn towards the edge of the pool as if something had called her attention towards it.

Unseen hands rippled through the surface of the pool’s water, massive bubbles gathered at the center, and time seemed to slow their form. Claudia slowly backed away until she had nowhere else to go. Pinned against the back wall, she witnessed a figure slowly emerge from the dark pool.

Locks of blond hair were neatly tamed upon his head. His closed eyes began to open. His arms were extended out as his body slowly rose before her from within the water; although, not a single part of the figure seemed wet. He floated briefly in front of her, and as their eyes met, he curved a smile.

Claudia shivered back.

The creepy smile on his pasty face and his dark eyes were both transfixed on her. He slowly hovered away from the pool, lowered his arms and came to rest at the edge of the pool in front of her. Strangely and eerily handsome, he stood unnaturally, almost like a mannequin. There was something odd about him, his face human yet robotic.

"You!” Claudia uttered before the words froze in her mouth. The man in the black suit and red tie. It was him.

He smiled at her as if he had long awaited their union, and she didn’t know how far from the truth it was. He moved forward then froze suddenly, turning as a swiftly moving light engulfed him. It came between him and Claudia and knocked him to the other end of the wall and then through it. The wall collapsed into itself with a thunderous roar.

For a moment, Claudia didn’t move, unsure of what had happened. She didn’t know whether to run or stay. It wasn’t until phantom hands reached out of the wall behind and tried to grab her that she screamed and struggled. She pulled free, and the ghostly hands shriveled back like dried up weeds and disappeared.

All around her, the structure began to collapse as she tried to escape; part of the ceiling came crashing down blocking her path. She glanced at the dark pool. The water seemed to stir, and something seemed to be rising from its depths again. She feared the man would return, and this time take her as she had sensed were his intentions.

In a panic, she began crawling away, desperately looking for an escape. With a sudden splash, a ghostly figure leaped out of the dark waters and into her path to stand before her. He gazed down at her. Claudia shriveled back, too frightened to move. The figure’s radiant purple eyes drew her to him, staring deep into her as if he were trying to find something within them.

Confused and unsure of whom he was, she seemed absorbed by his stare and couldn’t move. Their eyes locked by an unknown force, and through those purple swirling eyes of his, Claudia knew he was there to protect her but was unsure how she knew it.

The handsome stranger extended his hand to her. Claudia slowly reached for his hand, and he carefully lifted her beside him. She was overwhelmed when she came within inches of his face, blushing when she felt she couldn’t look away. Drawn to the stranger, she knew there was something about him that assured her she was safe in his arms.

“Who are you?” She forced her lips to say. He merely smiled at her childish question.

The words barely left her mouth when a dark figure emerged from behind the handsome rescuer. He immediately shoved her back and faced the dark figure that gripped her rescuer’s throat and began lifting him off the ground. The figure’s face lay obscured by darkness, but Claudia knew who it was; the clearly and neatly tailored black suit and red tie were quite visible from where she sat upon the ground.

The young man grabbed at the hands around his neck, fighting to escape.

“Stop!” Claudia cried. “Leave him alone!” She grabbed a nearby stone and tossed it at the dark figure’s feet. A growl escaped its unseen lips, and she scattered cowardly away.

The shadowy figure’s hold hardened around the young man’s throat; she could tell by the way he struggled. And then just when there no longer seemed to be a fight in him, the young man lifted his hand, thrusting it forward in some sort of sign or offering. At this, the dark figure slowly turned his head and suddenly released the young man.

Her rescuer dropped to the floor and onto his knees before the dark figure, gripping his right hand tightly. Had he been hurt? She didn’t understand what had happened but soon found the dark figure’s gaze upon her as it slowly moved back.

If there were words between them, she couldn’t be sure. But there seemed to be respect. The dark figure quickly faded back into the murky mist, and just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. She wondered why he had ever appeared in the first place, and why to her?

The young man knelt beside her; a sweet concern consumed his strangely pale and diamond shaped face. His strong jaw and dark matted locks of hair made him appear even paler. She found herself staring and even blushing slightly when his strange, large purple eyes gazed directly at her, and suddenly, his full lips smiled.

His expression seemed sinister, curious even; he watched and examined her with an inquisitive gaze. She felt his curiosity, his need to know her more than he knew himself.

He smiled. Had he read her mind?

His expression became gentle, almost innocent in her presence, like a tamed wild cat under the guidance of the richest nectar.

He reached out a hand to touch her; she could sense it had been something he longed to do. He came forward, drawing closer until he fell upon her lips, pressing his lips against her own mouth without warning. Startled, she made no attempt to pull away as his hand aggressively pressed the back of her head towards his inviting mouth. She slowly sank into the warmth of his delicate mouth, breathing in a deep taste of him.

As he pulled back, she opened her eyes and stared deep into his own, trying to read his very thoughts, but she found a mixture of different images she couldn’t make sense of. She felt dizzy, like something wanted to leave her stomach, and she began to choke. Suddenly, water poured out of her mouth. Her rescuer watched without concern as she fought the urge. But again, her stomach pushed upward inside her, making her gag. She collapsed to the floor and began coughing violently, and then a rush of water poured from her lips, emptying her fragile body.

11

The End is always the beginning

When I awoke, I was on an uncomfortable cot whose springs dug into my upper back. I looked around and realized I was in the nurse's office. Mr. McClellan, the man I had briefly met on my arrival, was seated beside my bed along with Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez who were standing nearby. All three appeared worried and only moved when they realized I was awake.

Even though their presence bothered me, I could think of nothing else but the stranger that came to my rescue. My head filled with questions. How had I gotten here? What had I really seen?

Doubts stirred in me; could it have all been a dream? I didn’t want it to be. In fact, I wanted to run to the spot and see for myself, but as soon as I tried to move, Mr. McClellan stopped me from getting up.

“Lay still,” Mr. McClellan said, he looked as seriously quiet as the other two. I wanted to scold him, but still dizzy, I dropped back on the uncomfortable cot.

My stomach swirled like I had eaten some bad fish. “What happened? How did I get here?”

“Do you not remember, Claudia?” I barely blinked up at them. “You were found passed out in the locker room by your classmates.”

My thoughts wandered, and I immediately sat up again; I remembered the stranger’s eyes looking at me from that pale face, the struggle with the menacing shadow in the dark corner that had come out and had been the man in the black suit and red tie all along. I thought of how he emerged from the depths of the pool, and I thought of the stranger who had come between us.

I knew he had saved me from something horrible. That much I knew, but what puzzled me, is how I knew it. I knew because he knew. Because my rescuer knew, which puzzled me even more. I felt drawn to him, and yet I couldn’t understand my need for him, the urge, the will to go to him. It was like a hunger I couldn’t satisfy.

I looked back at all three men and realized my grandfather was the only one missing.

“Passed out?” I asked. But it didn’t make sense; I figured my grandfather was explaining my actions to the PE teacher, giving her the grieving news of my loss, using it as an excuse for my actions. If he wanted to talk, I was prepared to do so; I couldn’t avoid it any longer. And besides, I had so many questions for him now.

“But that can’t be. I was in the pool area. I know I shouldn’t have been in there, but…. ” I hesitated, debating whether or not to say anything to them about what I had seen.

“Where’s my grandfather? I need to speak to him.”

Mr. McClellan very slowly lowered his head.

“Claudia, honey,” Mr. Claypool, whispered, coming near the side of the cot. Mr. McClellan put a hand out to stop him.

“What?” I glared over at them. The three seemed to be acting strangely.

“What? Tell me!” I stared up at their faces and knew it almost instantly. Even if I didn’t want to believe it, I could feel it and see it in their minds.

“Your grandfather…Dr. Edwards…is dead,” Mr. McClellan suddenly said. “He suffered a heart attack four hours ago. We tried to revive him, but he was already gone. There was nothing we could do. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I immediately jumped out of the cot and raced out the door. I heard them rush behind me as I ran out into the hallway and found it quite empty. Unnerved by the silence, I rushed into the gym and straight into the girl’s locker room, running through the maze of lockers and pen-written walls. The assistant principals clumsily stumbled behind me, calling my name, but their voices made me more determined to prove to myself, to prove what I’d seen.

I froze as I came to the back of the locker room, feeling myself trembling and fearing what I would find once I came to the entrance, but the only thing there to greet me was a wall. I must have taken a wrong turn, so I doubled back, but I found lockers instead and no door to the pool area. I stopped only when the three men were standing right in front of me, catching their breaths.

“Where is it?” I asked them. They looked at one another, unsure of what I meant.

“The pool area! Where is it? That’s where I saw him!”

I couldn’t make sense of anything else because I couldn’t remember what had happened after. I couldn’t remember whether I had seen him first coming out of the water before I tried to leave. Nevertheless, they looked over at me as if I had gone mad.

“Claudia, what are you talking about?” Mr. McClellan suddenly replied.

“The pool in the girl’s locker room. That’s where I saw him, a man in a black suit and red tie. It has to be him! He did this! He’s responsible! He’s Death!”

Again all three men exchanged glances, looking at me as if something had crawled from my ears.

“You don’t believe me?” I angrily snapped.

“I’m not crazy! Where is it? It was here. I saw it!” I yelled so loudly, the lights above flickered.

“Claudia, honey, there is no pool. Milton has never had a pool,” Mr. McClellan calmly said.

“That’s not true. You’re lying. I saw it here; it was right there! There was a door and a glass window. And right behind it was a pool, a large dark pool, and that’s where he went. I saw him!” I angrily yelled.

“Saw who?” Mr. McClellan asked, looking over at me. The wrinkles on his face softened. He was tall like the gruesome twosome. I couldn’t stop using Alex’s term to describe them. But he was also a gentle, soft-spoken man with widened, droopy clear blue eyes. His hair was completely white yet his eyebrows were dark.

“A man in a black suit and red tie, I saw him going into the locker room. I saw him before in the girl’s restroom, too. He’s after me. I know it. He’s the one responsible. He did this!” The panic in my voice was real; I didn’t realize it until then just how crazy it all sounded. And in that moment, I recalled the image on the restroom mirror, the hooded skull that had first appeared. That vision alone startled me for such a long moment that I couldn’t speak until my rescuer’s face resurfaced in my mind to rescue me again.

Mr. McClellan remained silent as he glanced over at Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez; I knew they thought I was crazy. But the more I thought about it and tried to remember, the more I knew that I hadn’t dreamed it.

I moved to leave. “My Grandfather would know what to do. He would believe me!” I yelled.

Mr. McClellan grabbed me and faced me.

“Claudia, did you not hear me? He’s gone.

He’s gone. Dr. Edwards is gone,” he gently tried to say as I glared into his deep blue eyes in disbelief.

I dropped to my knees; Mr. McClellan caught me, lowering me gently onto the floor with him.

I couldn’t make sense of it, and when I began to cry, I wasn’t sure who the tears were for. But something inside of me had broken free, something I couldn’t control. And as I sobbed, I recalled my rescuer’s beautiful face, the scent of him, and the warmth and protection his arms had given me in those few moments. I longed for it even more.

Why did I feel the need for him? Why did the single need of him bring me to tears? And the more I tried to understand it, the more I cried.

I wrapped my arms around Mr. McClellan, weeping, ashamed that he thought I wept for my grandfather. I hadn’t been given the chance to cry at my parent's funeral, since there hadn’t been one. And now I couldn't stop from doing so. Everything I had felt then erupted out of me. But not in words, or anger, but in tears; I wanted to believe I was strong. But now I sat there helpless, a victim of my emotions, and it was all I could do, and I wasn't even embarrassed.

Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez huddled around us like a protective wall of warmth and security. And somehow, I knew then it would always be like this.

12

Michael McClellan

(The side note)

Michael arrived at the office building early; the secretary wasn’t at her desk when he entered the attorney’s office, but he noticed Mr. West’s door ajar and walked up to it when he heard his voice coming from inside the office. He knocked then entered, catching Mr. West by surprise.

The attorney was on a phone call, and as quickly as he caught sight of Michael, he dismissed the other party on the line and immediately hung up. Michael considered it a sign of respect, feeling warmth and assurance when Mr. West rose to greet him from the other side of the desk, walking him back to the seat facing his desk.

“Ah, Michael McClellan, very nice to finally meet you in person.” He shook Michael’s hand firmly.

“I’m sorry. I hope that wasn’t an important call. I got here early, and I didn’t see your secretary,” Michael politely said.

“No, no come right in. Have a seat. I have the paperwork all prepared and ready for you.”

Michael took a seat in front of the attorney’s desk as Mr. West made his way around his desk and became comfortable.

“It’s unfortunate we have to meet under such bad circumstances, but it’s best we get this out of the way. Neil would have wanted it this way,” Mr. West said.

Michael agreed; although, Mr. West’s words sounded slightly arrogant and almost rehearsed, like an adult talking to a little boy who had just fallen off of his bike, reassuring him everything was for his own good. He recalled it had been Mr. West who had delivered the horrible news to Claudia about her parents being dead and her having to live with Dr. Edwards.

“By the way, how is Claudia?” Mr. West asked, leaning forward.

“She’s doing better. She had a nasty gash on the back of the head, must have been from the fall,” Michael softly said, recalling the events of that day. They had only noticed it after they returned to the nurse’s office. The pillow she had been lying on was covered in blood. It hadn’t been bad, but it was bad enough to concern him.

After Neil’s death, he recalled letting school out early; that’s why the school had been so quiet. The silence sometimes frightened him when he was working alone, and that day it was no different. The school was especially eerie after what had happened, and even scarier when Claudia had nearly gone mad that she had seen something.

But how was she supposed to act after such news of her grandfather’s death? Yet how had she known? He hadn’t known himself until the paramedics were called. He never had a need for a radio until that very day because of Neil. Could his friend have known his time was near? It sickened him to know if it were true. His friend had a special gift to know of such events, and he didn’t doubt Claudia had the same gift. Perhaps it could be the answer to how she was aware of such, even if her mind had created an alternative reality to explain it all.

“Well, she must have fainted when she heard the news. I can’t imagine anything else.”

“Perhaps,” Michael said; a long sigh left his lips.

“And the man she claims she saw?” Mr. West asked.

“The nurse said she bumped her head pretty hard on the floor. She must have thought she saw somebody,” Michael answered, coming forward on his chair.

“Do you believe her?” Mr. West asked, appearing foolishly concerned. Michael found it hardly convincing.

“I don’t know what to believe. I just know I have a very young girl who’s lost her grandfather, and I’m not sure where to begin,” he said.

“Well, the mind can play tricks on you, especially after a dramatic episode. I guess it’s the way the brain tries to make sense of what’s happened. But that’s just my opinion,” he softly chuckled.

“I’m no expert on the ways of the human mind. It’s something I don’t know much about, but what I can help you with, is the legal part of this whole dilemma,” Mr. West said, pulling a few documents out of a folder and setting them in the opposite direction in front of Michael.

“Before he died, Neil asked me to revise his will, leaving you custody of his granddaughter along with guardianship of his assets to be distributed for her care until the time she’s age of consent.”

“What do you need from me?” Michael asked.

“Nothing. The paperwork has been all drawn up; all I need is a signature proving you received it,” Mr. West said, handing Michael a pen and pointing to the areas where Michael’s signature was required.

Michael signed a few spots and initialed the rest. When he was finished, Mr. West grabbed the pen from his hand.

“Great. I’ll have my secretary get you a copy and send it via email. By the way, there is one more thing,” he said as he gathered the documents from the table and placed them back into the folder.

“What’s that?” Michael asked.

“It’s nothing big, but a side note.”

Michael glared at him suspiciously. He hadn’t known Mr. West for very long, and though he had been Neil’s attorney for a long time, he had no reason not to trust him. But it was Mr. West‘s arrogance that sometimes disturbed him.

“In the event that a relative is found, there may be reasons to contest the will.”

“What? But she doesn’t have any relatives. Her parents are dead. As far as I know, Neil was her only living relative.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. It was just a minor note that had to be mentioned,” he said with a smile as he put the documents in his briefcase.

“Regarding Neil’s property…” Michael began to say.

“It’s all in the paperwork I gave you. Read through them carefully, and if you have questions then call me. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have another appointment.”

Michael nodded and rose to his feet; he stumbled to the door. He figured he could move into Neil’s house, a better space than his tiny one-bedroom apartment which would be no place for a growing teenage girl.

The attorney’s words echoed in his mind. He couldn’t understand why Neil would have added such a note to his will. Had he doubts? Perhaps neglected to tell him a possibility of such a thing?

The more he thought about it, the more he doubted his longtime friend would have believed it. But it was in the will, so the doubt lingered. After all, he had revised the will. And just what would anyone contest to? Who Claudia would live with? Wouldn’t that be her choice? She was 18, wasn’t she old enough to make that decision now? What was another year?

Michael glanced back. He meant to ask such a question, but Mr. West was already on another call, and as their eyes met again and Michael began to speak, Mr. West motioned him out the door.

And with that, Michael walked out.

Outside the office door, he looked at the folder in his hand and began to walk out of the building towards the parking lot. Now it was only the problem of who they would place as principal, an emergency substitute had been called in briefly, but there was word from the district that a more suitable replacement was on his way.

Michael only wondered who had taken the difficult task of replacing such a great man like Dr. Edwards. Whoever it was could not hold a candle to the man. Everyone was on pins and needles, literally worried sick of who they feared would be brought to manage a school that was already coming apart wall by wall, and now by one faculty member at a time. Who could possibly meet that responsibility?

The Arrival of the Man in Blue

1

The Man in Blue

He stood at 6’2’’ tall with short, straight honey brown hair neatly pushed back, and beautiful almond green eyes under his thick eyebrows. The smirk on his long face was subtle; with a simple curve that formed a fine lip which appealed to all the women.

Women loved The Man in Blue, and he loved them in return, especially the Spanish women.

He dressed the part of a gentleman which was the dress code for his line of work, but he never talked about the job, not with a woman, not with anyone. Although, the dress code always was a good point for starting a conversation.

He put the desert eagle back into the holster inside the blue suit he wore. He liked the color blue, so when asked for what name he would go by, he smiled and merely said, “The Man in Blue.”

“It suits you,” his boss had said to him.

He stood in an empty warehouse and glanced down at the figure that had stopped moving by his feet. He brought him down with a single shot, and now it was time to secure his prey.

The Man in Blue grabbed at the pocket of his suit and took out a long syringe. After removing the cap, he immediately injected the figure’s neck. The form began to struggle for a moment before it stopped. He put the cap back onto the syringe and dropped it into his suit pocket before taking out a few zip ties and securing the figure’s hands behind his back, he also bound his feet. He worked alone, and this evening was no different, just another day.

Behind, the team arrived just as he’d secured the figure on the ground. The pickup crew, The Man in Blue thought. He rose as three black SUVs surrounded him from each side.

A man in a white suit appeared from one of the black SUVs that stopped right outside of the warehouse; they were in an empty part of the Chicago downtown area that was mostly abandoned and surrounded by decaying buildings. A team emerged from one of the other vehicles, and as The Man in Blue walked away, they lifted the figure, securing him in a strange metal device. It was all mere procedure, all by the book: he took them down, whereas the team followed up, retrieved, and secured.

The sun was going down on the horizon as The Man in White now approached.

“You have my money?” The Man in Blue asked before The Man in White could say anything else.

“Transferring as we speak,” The Man in White calmly said as he stood beside the hood of the car. His pale blue eyes glared back at The Man in Blue; with a smile on his pale face. He seemed to express very little emotion, and The Man in Blue knew him to be the calmest man he had ever met, down to the very way he handled himself, but he still had a rage burning inside of him.

The white color suited him quite well, especially when combined with his bleached-blond hair and pale skin. He was the only person who could pull the color off, down to the black shirt underneath, and that burning and flashy red tie he wore.

Another figure in a black suit emerged from the vehicle with a briefcase that he opened and put on the hood of the car, and then stood aside. Inside it was a computer screen, now indicating clearance of a transfer. The Man in Blue lifted his phone and its screen indicated confirmation.

“Was he any trouble?” The Man in White asked, but The Man in Blue only walked passed him, putting his phone into his coat pocket.

“Not at all; it’s starting to get too boring and predictable,” he suddenly said.

“Of course. You continue to impress me, John,” The Man in White said with a slight smirk.

“You have five hours before the sedative wears off,” The Man in Blue said and continued to walk away without turning or looking back.

“John,” The Man in White called over to him. The Man in Blue stopped but didn’t turn. “I have another assignment for you,” continued The Man in White.

The Man in Blue turned very slowly and looked at The Man in White. His handsome face was firm as always, not a single line on his rigid, manly jaw. The honey locks sometimes fell slightly over his eyes and cheekbones when he failed to tame his mane.

“I can send you what I have. I know you have a date to keep.” The Man in White smiled.

The Man in Blue narrowed his eyes, waiting without the slightest expression on his face.

“The job is easy,” The Man in White again said.

“And I thought you had a challenge this time. I’m not interested,” The Man in Blue said, turning away.

“Not even for an easy three million?” The Man in White teased.

The Man in Blue stopped. Three million! He nearly gasped but kept his cool. What was worth three million? His boss had his attention again. He turned back around; now there was a slight smirk on his face.

“I thought you would be interested.” The Man in White grinned.

“Send me what you got,” The Man in Blue said, and then he turned and walked away, pushing back the locks of his honey brown hair.

The Man in White grinned as he watched The Man in Blue fade from his view. He now turned as the team leader approached and said, “The target is secured, sir.” The man dressed in military gear said, holding an assault rifle in his hands.

“Good,” The Man in White said. “Pack up and move out. We have another assignment,” he said with a smile upon his face and climbed back into the awaiting SUV.

2

John Slater

Another job, and here, yet again hungry and ready for some pleasure, no need for names. This place was an underground establishment, my home away from home you could say. I always knew where to find them, or perhaps they always knew how to find me. This is what I wanted after a successful day’s work. The truth remains, it wasn’t a single day’s work, but actually weeks and sometimes months of long stakeouts and investigations to find the target, track him, hunt him, and then take him down. It took a lot of training to be ahead of the game.

In my line of work, I was required to have a very strict and disciplined workout routine, at least five or six days of the week. It consisted of compound, explosive exercises, power cleans, jump squats, high pulls, and explosive bench presses. These exercises helped to maintain my speed and agility. Some other good compound exercises included squats, deadlifts, and military presses. My workout also involved fat burning cardio in the form of running each day to ensure that I didn’t put on too much fat. For two or three hours every day, I made sure each meal contained quality proteins, carbs, and fats in order to help me pack on a lot of muscle mass.

I wasn’t simply the best by mere consequence.

Once that had been accomplished, it was time for some R&R, my favorite part of the job; although, it wasn’t technically part of the job but merely my reward for a job well done, Slater’s favorite part of being John.

I hated being a predictable man but I couldn’t help myself. I loved women. If I wasn’t fucking, I was hunting, which was the only thing that could keep me from thinking of fucking.

The women in the brothel already knew me; you could say I was a regular. I had been in this particular brothel before on many other occasions and during many other hunts. The doorman was a big bald white guy named Jake; he looked like a biker, except for the clean black suit and red tie he wore. He lifted his head up at me in greeting. This was Chicago and the business was booming. You had to be either known or important to be in this part of the establishment.

Jake packed a 45 Magnum, but you couldn’t tell unless he lifted his suit. I could tell, though. Jake smiled at me and made some small talk. He always did. He was comfortable, thought we were in the same line of work. He used to be a hit man, and I was in a way and yet not even close.

“I think you’d be happy to know we have a new girl you might like.” Jake knew my taste; at this point, every place I went nowadays people knew that one secret of Slater. His tastes were no longer secrets.

I gazed at him, waiting for him to say more until the headmistress, an older woman with short bleached-blonde hair and an unnatural tan, wearing a long black evening dress and far too much make-up appeared. She smiled when she saw me.

“Mr. Slater, welcome back.” She extended her hand and I took it and brought it to my lips.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever return,” she said.

I grinned. “And miss seeing my favorite lady?”

She chuckled, putting her hand on her red lips.

“Oh, Mr. Slater, you’re too much. As always, it’s a pleasure. Shall we?”

“Lead the way, Madame,” I said and put my arm out so she could lead me. She literally blushed, putting that fragile hand under my arm and squeezing close. We began to walk into a long, narrow hallway.

Jake remained, grinning back at me when I disappeared into the hallway with the Madame by my side.

The best part was picking the girl; the Madame led me into the parlor room where two other beautiful girls drew away the curtain, pulling the cords at each end. Beyond the curtain, women were sitting like dishes on a buffet line. I was on the front row.

The women were of all varieties, blondes, redheads, and brunettes were dressed in lingerie, laces, satin, red, blue, and pink teddies. The sight never failed to excite me.

“I have someone you might like, Mr. Slater,” Madame Victoria whispered into my ear, standing right beside me. I had completely forgotten she was there. I was too busy staring at the many beautiful faces in front of me. Their eyes sparkled back at me from where they sat. There were so many beautiful faces; so many beautiful bodies ready to be explored. I wanted them all.

Madame Victoria was so close I hadn’t even realized it until I glanced back down over at her. I must have appeared lost, dazed, or merely dazzled by the women before me. She smiled at me, noting my arousal.

“I know what you like, John,” she hissed, tightly squeezing my arm.

There was only one that always caught my eye, and she was a brunette. I loved brunettes, but I had nothing against other women. I wanted them all, but there was something about brunettes with dark brown eyes and long flowing brown hair that always got Slater right in the cock. And Madame Victoria knew it, Jake knew it, and even my boss, Nicholson knew it.

There were a few women I wanted, but only one of them was my ideal lady. She even had a petite frame.

Why petite? I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that John Slater liked to take control. I could hold her small frame firmly, lift her, guide, and even lead her. She was perfect for me. Besides, women loved height in a man. A woman taller than me had never appealed to me. Not that I wouldn’t fuck one, but it was not my preference.

“I see you found her,” Madame Victoria whispered. Her lips kissed my ear. “I thought of you when I hired her.”

The girl was wearing blue baby doll, lace lingerie. I quivered at the sight of her; she would do. I couldn’t deny that. And when I saw her sitting there with her bronze skin, I knew I wanted her. I wanted to fuck her hard. I couldn’t think of anything else but a nice glass of red wine and a nice fuck. That’s what I wanted. And I wouldn’t be denied that. Did I mention they loved me here?

“I'll take her,” I said, pointing her out. The other women seemed disappointed that I hadn’t picked them. They always were. Some even dyed their hair to please John Slater.

“Of course you will,” Madame Victoria whispered, motioning to the girl. She smiled right back at me, rose, and came down to me from the line of women.

I needed this. It had been too long.

I extended my arm to her, and she put her slender hand in my manly arm and clutched around the blue suit I was wearing.

“Will that be all?” Madame Victoria asked. I grinned with the girl by my side as she asked this of me. I wanted to laugh; John Slater was in candy land.

“Now, you know better than to ask me that Madame,” I said with a half-smile. “Perhaps for now, but I might be hungry later. Let’s keep my options open,”

“As you wish, Mr. Slater, and enjoy.” Madame Victoria grinned, licking her red lips. Perhaps if she was a little younger with dark hair I might have fucked her as well.

I started walking away and only turned to remind her of the wine, but she immediately answered before I said a word. She already knew me well enough.

“As always, the wine you requested is in your room awaiting you,” she said. Satisfied, I led the brunette with me to my usual room. Up the staircase, I went into the room at the end of the hallway. I opened the door and allowed her to walk in first; as soon as we entered, I stood by the door watching her as she went to the table where the bottle of red wine I had requested sat.

The room was simple with a king-sized bed covered in satin maroon sheets. It was elegantly decorated with a white rug beside the bed. There was a vase with fresh roses on a table in the back with chocolate covered strawberries beside it. The bathroom was spacious and clean with white fresh towels, lotions, and perfumes. The girls often had their own rooms, and this wasn’t hers, but it was my favorite spot in the establishment.

A large screen TV was mounted above a decorated mantle facing the bed. The mantle had a variety of old photographs of women in various poses wearing lingerie. Windows were an option, and an option Slater required, especially in my line of work. There was even a dresser, but instead of clothes, there were toys and other adult novelties inside of it.

“Latina?” I asked, and the girl gazed over at me surprised with a smile.

“Sí,” she said.

“Eso es lo que pensé,” I whispered. I loved Spanish women. That was a confession.

“Me sorprende que usted habla el español muy bien,” she responded in Spanish.

Yes, yes, I did. I dabbled a little in the Spanish language. Okay, so I was fluent. How can you say you loved something so much and not completely commit to its customs and language?

“Gracias. Pero, ¿Por qué? Creo que si te gusta algo debes dedicarte completamente. Me encantan las mujeres latinas,” I replied. She blinked. Had my response aroused her? This mere white man was talking back to her in her language, and I think it turned her on. Just as it turned me on when Latin women spoke in their native tongue.

“Ahora Quítate la ropa,” I ordered; she smiled and obeyed immediately. The second thing I loved in women, obedience. There was nothing more pleasing in a woman than obedience and submissiveness.

I took things slow, watched her when she got undressed. God, it turned me on when I watched the way her hair danced upon her bronze body. I just wanted to fuck her, but I didn’t want to rush things. I wanted to relax and to enjoy it, for it would be another long job before the next fuck.

That’s the way I worked. And yet, from what Nicholson had indicated, if this job was as easy as he said it was, I would soon find myself here again. I liked that idea a whole lot. My half-smile went up again, just like my cock as I watched my Latin beauty dance in front of me.

We didn't fuck right away. She helped me get undressed, removing the blue suit and tie and then the white shirt. She undid the belt, pulled it off my waist, and then undid my zipper; I removed my shoes as she helped me slip off my pants. She did it so slowly, so erotically, making me feel every part of her hands touch me. As much as I wanted to leap upon her and mount her, I waited. The wait would be worth it. Besides, she knew how John Slater worked, how I loved to take things very slowly. She must know. I was so popular here.

She pulled the boxers from my waist, folding everything on the chair near the back table. The bottle of wine was already open so she simply poured it into a glass for me. There were two glasses, but she poured only one and came over to me with it, handing me the glass.

“Pour yourself a glass,” I ordered her. She did as I requested.

She knew what I liked. I guess they all did. Naked, I got onto the bed; she helped me relax with a body message, and I liked that. I took tiny sips from my glass while her hands worked their magic in all the right places.

She was nude, rubbing her breasts on my back. The glass of wine was close on the side table so I could easily reach it.

“Work it, baby.” I'd say. She was never disappointed, and I was a generous tipper. Her hands ran down my buttocks and then down my leg, the oil on her fingers was warm and slippery. I drank deeply and thought of the night, of what I had done, of the hunt and the blood and the final end to all. I had killed many, captured even more. They all had a price, and it made me a wealthy man. And now the offer was up to three million.

I couldn’t possibly pass it up. I was excited about the job and curious of what it entailed. I’d be lying if I denied I wasn’t eager to see the files Nicholson would soon be sending me regarding my assignment. Just what was it, and just what did he mean by easy? How easy?

For a reason, I didn’t believe it when he said it was going to be easy, not that I didn’t trust my boss, but he had ways of surprising me. He knew me far better than I wanted to admit, and a part of me hated that.

But right now, I exhaled at my choice of lady, her touch, and the feel of her soft breasts upon my backside as she straddled me and began to rub my shoulders, coming down against me. She smelled so good, and I could feel her spread pussy against the back of me. God, she was turning me on. I was already hard enjoying the feel of her hands and her body as it swayed my skin. I drank, and the wine was warm in my throat, rich and bitter with a hint of vanilla.

“Drink your wine,” I said. She climbed off of me and reached for her glass; as she did, I sat up to watch her lips taste the rich, warm liquid. Then I rose and put on the robe that barely concealed my nude body and settled upon the only soft recliner in the room.

She turned as I was now sitting, watching her drain the glass, and then she put it down and came forward as I motioned her to me. Her lovely firm naked figure was so beautiful and perfect; the locks of her brown hair flowed upon her movements.

“Dance for me,” I said to her very softly, and she did as I asked, her brown locks falling about her naked body. She had what I liked in a woman, but she was slightly taller than my usual taste. And it was a little disappointing that I am still yet to find my perfect woman, my girl.

And just what would I do when I did find her? Besides fuck her hard, besides possess her and make her mine. Would I abandon my life, my routine, and my status as a hunter in the business that had made me wealthy and a trained killer? It was a business that made me the best; the question was, would they let me go?

But really, would I ever leave?

Although there was no doubt she would be with me. I wanted that nameless face, that goddess, my girl. And even if I never stopped what I did, I would have her. I vowed that much.

I watched her dance naked in front of me, watching her hair touch her bronzed, slender backside as she moved in front of me. God, she was beautiful, a whore nevertheless, one that would satisfy John Slater for the evening. I could settle for that just for today.

Still hard, I motioned her to me, raising a finger and directing her over; she did so very slowly and stood in front of me. I wanted her! I ordered her to kneel, merely motioning to her knees before me. She smiled, already aware of what I wanted. Slater loved women, but he loved getting a blowjob just as much. He also loved eating pussy but never with a whore. There were boundaries he wasn’t willing to cross, and that was one of them.

My cock now faced her, and she slowly wrapped her hands on my shaft; her touch alone sent me squirming.

“Yes!” I hissed. “Suck it, baby. Suck me!” I groaned, and just as those words left my lips, I felt her mouth upon my shaft and then her tongue as she licked me from the base to the top. Then she swallowed me, and I felt my cock in her throat that was fucking me. Her head bobbed up and down. She pulled me out and lubricated me with her tongue and my own nectar. Then, again, she swallowed me; the nectar continued to flow from me, but I wasn’t done. Oh no, I was just getting started. She repeated the same, licking my cock as if it were a tasty popsicle.

“Yeah!” I gasped as she sucked my balls; thankful she hadn’t forgotten that part of me.

My cock disappeared into her mouth again, and I grabbed her head as it moved up and down my shaft. I bit my lower lip, holding back the desire to ram it into her mouth. I was exploding inside of her and holding back nothing, but I still wasn’t done. She came up, wiping at the side of her mouth; I rose immediately and grabbed her quickly like I had done so many times to those that I hunted, with quick hands and eager urgency. She was startled but soon eased as I touched her face, softly stroking her cheek.

“Don’t be afraid,” I whispered, grinning as the arousal absorbed my body. At once, I pushed her against the wall, pinning her with my cock and pushing myself into her. She exhaled with delight as she felt me fully inside of her, now moving quickly and violently. I like it hard, very hard, and I pounded aggressively into her; her mouth had awakened the hard lover in me.

She moaned, but women didn’t just moan over aggressive pounding. That alone didn’t make them come. That alone didn’t please them. Perhaps it pleased me to slam my cock into her, to feel her squirm, scream, breathe hard, and moan, but it wasn’t enough for her. And I knew when a woman made sounds simply to please me. I usually didn’t like pleasing whores, but I did like pleasing all women; I had a reputation of such. Whore or not, she was a woman, and I wanted her to feel John Slater and remember him. And right now, she was acting as if she was pleased.

I wanted her to come, to come for me because it’s what turned me on; nothing turned me on more than to hear a woman come, to feel the nectar drain from her lower fiery little mouth and soak my cock. I always felt victorious after.

I pulled out of her and reached down instead and inserted a long finger inside of her. She froze at my touch; perhaps she hadn’t expected it. Perhaps she expected another simple fuck, another fuck that would resolve in the man getting pleased and not her. But when I reached down and stroked her little secret place, she realized it wasn’t just another fuck. John Slater wanted her to come. John Slater wanted her to come for him!

I crooked up my finger in a come-hither motion; sliding my fingertip along her lips, I began to stroke her softly and gently. She squirmed at my touch but pushed my hand further into her. So, she liked it rough. I pushed in hard until her breath said faster, and I moved faster. She was giving me orders now. I laughed as she gasped and squealed with delight. I had found the spot that made her squirm. I fell against her, burying my face into her neck. God, she smelled good.

“Come for me baby,” I hissed.

She gasped, exhaled deeply, cried, and squirmed as my fingers worked their magic in her. I had made it a goal to learn to please a woman; I loved them as much as I loved the hunt. I had given my study of women’s anatomy my full attention. When I wasn’t out there hunting, I was fucking, improving my technique of pleasing the opposite sex. I didn’t assume to know everything. I just did.

Then, like a fire, one more thrust of my hand and fingers slipping into her had her pushing so hard upon my hand, and she came. It was like a release that had longed to escape her; it washed down my hand, and that was my cue. I slipped into her, pushing my cock deep inside, lifting her slightly in my longing. Pelvis against pelvis, she was still breathing hard; she was delirious as I now slammed into her.

She quivered, sang with delight until the release had me as well, and I held her tightly against me, feeling the softness of her hair touch my face. She was my perfect woman for the hours I had paid. Until that time ended, I was hers and she was mine.

I had her a few more times after, delighted her, and made her scream and beg for me until she was quivering beneath me.

“Oh my god, that was amazing.” Her lips quivered, and she collapsed on the bed as I dropped beside her; she curled up beside me, her wet pussy rubbing against the side of my leg. The smell of sex penetrated the air in the room. She was in love. I could feel it. She wrapped her arms around me and held me; her lips found a spot on my neck, and I felt her take me in.

“Do you have a woman?” She asked.

I didn’t answer. It was evident she wanted to be that person, and that meant it was time to go.

“Go to sleep,” I ordered her, and she relaxed beside me in silence, perhaps realizing she had misspoken.

After she was asleep, I watched her from the bathroom mirror as I climbed into the shower and cleaned up. When I was finished, I shaved and brushed my teeth, and after brushing back my honey brown hair, I put my dark blue suit and tie back on.

My dark-haired beauty rose from the bed and came to me; she came close and kissed me. I felt her naked body, grabbing tightly at her buttocks.

“Stay,” she hissed. I smiled, taking her face into my hands.

“Our time is up,” I plainly said and moved towards the door; she held onto my hand as I pulled away and exited the room.

I knew she would be pleased with the money I left on the table for her. That was the only thing I could do. Our time was up until the next time, that’s if she was the lucky one. If the next time there wasn’t a more appealing face sitting on that buffet of beautiful women staring back at John Slater, one perhaps that was the exact girl I wanted, the one that had everything I wanted in a woman.

I left satisfied and fulfilled for the mere moment, but it never lasted. I had a high sex drive. Some would describe it as the sex drive of a teenage boy. It had always been that way and I didn’t pretend to understand it, but it was like being constantly hungry. I was always on the hunt for the next delicious dish, no matter where I was.

I couldn’t help myself. It was my weakness. And that’s where my obsession had started, and only finding the right girl, the dream girl would satisfy those urges. Nicholson liked to think there wasn’t one. He laughed at the thought and always knew what I was up to when I finished a job, my date as he described it. I wasn’t embarrassed even though he described it as my only, and most dangerous, weakness. But it didn’t have to be, of course. It wasn’t dangerous yet. I was in control.

I was instructed to proceed to Houston, Texas. The two-and-a-half-hour flight from Chicago had brought me back to the hot state. I hated the hot climate. It was a short flight and one I would rather not repeat. I hadn’t taken first class; you never did that in my line of work. You had to be ready for anything; sure, they sat me beside an old woman who wouldn’t stop talking about her visit with her grandchildren, but it was better than having the Oddities slice your head open with a welcome from behind.

I knew better, and Jackson hadn’t; he had been a rookie, but even a rookie couldn’t be that stupid. Everyone was a potential target. They were everywhere, but one was always prepared. We all had preparation to go by, devices to warn us. Failure to use them was a human mistake that would cost your life. The Alien Detection Agency or ADA for short, had mind manipulators, devices to read thoughts, and other instruments that could read body heat and unnatural changes in the body temperature and manipulation, so there were no excuses for not using these devices in the first place.

Sometimes, I wore glasses in the dark. I wore them on the plane and told the old woman I had just gotten my eyes checked and needed to see. She checked out. The gifted or oddities knew us, even though some didn’t even have the slightest idea we existed; others had always known. And on good days, they sometimes ran.

I liked the ones that did that; those were the challenging ones. Those were the ones that made life worth living, the ones that made fucking even better when I finally did pick my girl after the hunt was over.

The plane landed without a hitch and I bid the old lady good day. She said she hoped my eyes were better; which of course, they were. I walked to the airport parking lot and waiting there was my baby. My baby was a blue 1967 Shelby Mustang that had been set up by The Company. It was awaiting me like a horny woman ready for some action. Everything was about sex for John Slater. I couldn’t help myself. I loved the car and had always preferred it to any other. It was simple, a classic, and my baby. And as Nicholson had said, not too flashy and it would do for the title I was to take this time.

I had no bags, there was no need for them. It was a long drive from the airport to the main location where I took refuge in a rental, a house at the upper side of the Heights, a quiet neighborhood filled with lawyers and doctors. A nice area with culture where the houses were valued in the hundred thousands and up, not that I was planning on buying; I never had any intentions of staying.

LA was my home. I had a nice view of the ocean, a walk to the beach from where I stayed, and a private area away from the beach goers. Loneliness was both my ally and my enemy.

The two-story house in LA had two bedrooms and two bathrooms with a fireplace and a full kitchen. It was located on a private beach in West Malibu with a beautiful ocean front deck and other amenities. The house was located on the end of a private road away from the noise, yet with public access to shopping areas and restaurants half a mile away. It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth every penny.

The job was in Houston. Nicholson had secured a two-story old Victorian house valued at half a million dollars, a safe house often used by the other ADA agents when on assignment. I would report there, retrieve my assignment, and settle to the assigned location given. I had yet to receive the assignment, so the details were vague if not non-existent. Nicholson loved the joy of control over the assignments he made. He wanted to torture me with the wait.

The light turned red as I came to a stop and somehow, she caught my eyes. She was a nameless but stunning face sitting in a black convertible BMW. She was beautiful and had long dark hair, but she wasn't Latin, my favorite flavor. But for now, it didn't matter; I wanted her when I saw her. Perhaps it was the dark hair that attracted me, her smile or her glow, but there was also something else.

I stared deeply at her, unable to look away. I wanted her so badly, and when the cars behind me started honking, I wanted to get out and break some bones. I motioned to her. She smiled and giggled as I winked and dropped my foot on the gas, darting forward so the fucking asshole behind me could get to where he was going. To my delight, her car sped behind mine. I found a nearby gas station and pulled in, and her car came to a stop just beside me.

Now, we were standing facing each other; she was gorgeous, a little taller than my usual due to her heels, but I wasn’t complaining. And it looked like she wanted me too. She was wearing a red dress, possibly heading to a party.

“You look lost,” she said, smiling and leaning on her car as I stood before her, dressed in that blue striped suit like The Man in Blue.

“As a matter of fact,” I said, the half-smile appearing on my face. “I just got into town. So yes, I’m a little lost.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I could show you around. But I’m actually heading to a wedding. Maybe you’d like to join me? And then maybe after, we could…” She trailed off, grinning. The smile on her face was a clear indication that she wanted to fuck me. I could always read the signals.

I was just about to close the deal when my phone started ringing, but the grin didn’t leave my lips, even after I lifted the phone from my coat pocket and put it to my ear. I motioned with a single finger to my beauty to wait a moment while I answered this interruption.

“I thought you only liked them if they were Spanish.”

I knew the voice, and the smile on my face became a firm line as I stepped away to the other end of my car.

“I like all kinds of women, but yes, Spanish ones are my preference,” I said, slightly disgusted; the girl was waiting, and I was eager to get her in bed with me. But it seemed it might have to wait.

“Stop wasting time. I just sent you the files. Read them and study them. I will be in contact. Lose the girl now.”

With that, I turned into a real jerk, and without another word, I jumped into my baby blue Shelby Mustang and peeled out of the gas station, leaving my potential fuck just as confused.

I hated it, but I knew I would get another chance eventually.

3

Claudia Belle

The funeral had come on a weekend, and it was held at a church in the Museum District. He was buried on a bright and sunny Saturday in the last week of August. Why did it have to be so beautiful when it was such a sad day?

Everyone was there: faculty, teachers, friends, students, and a lot of people I didn’t know. Then, Mr. McClellan took the podium. I watched him from my place between Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool. He cleared his throat; it was already difficult for him, and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet. The paper he was holding in his hands was shaking. He looked down, and for a moment, there was silence as he looked at the large crowded church and the many faces staring back at him at the podium. He then looked over at me and smiled before he opened his mouth to speak. I hoped that my presence gave him the strength to begin.

“What can I say about Neil that hasn’t already been said?” Michael began with a shaking voice. He stopped and took a deep breath.

“Neil was a man that loved life. He was a man that put everyone else’s needs before his own. He was a kind and good friend. Those of you who knew him knew of his kindness, his warmth, his generosity, and his great devotion to help those less fortunate. He gave and never asked for anything in return even though inside he was hurting and hiding a great amount. But he never let that change him from who he was to all of us. We shared in his happiness and kindness and even in his wondrous joy when he found out he had a granddaughter. I don’t think I have ever seen him as happy as I saw him the day he heard that news. It was a great feeling for him to know that out there was a part of him. Claudia, you were the best part of his life even though he only knew you for a short period of it. You were his everything,” Mr. McClellan said to me, and a few murmurs filled the church hall.

It was emotionally overwhelming, a beautiful eulogy but draining as I sat there, and I couldn’t help but weep and get filled with guilt as the words of his speech left his lips. Why had I turned him away? Why hadn’t I listened to him when he tried to talk to me? Why did I have to be so stubborn? Some said I had the stubbornness of my father and the looks of my mother.

The ceremony ended with a drive to the burial at the cemetery. A few now joined the remaining from the church: close friends and family were those among the crowds, those lingering around the casket as it sat surrounded by flowers and flower reefs.

I sat by Mr. McClellan as the priest read from the black book and said a few words; tears were shed, but I had no more to give. I already wanted it to end.

Mr. McClellan put a hand on my shoulder as the casket began to descend into the ground, and then, I suddenly lost myself and grabbed hold of Mr. McClellan and held him. I was alone, alone once again. First my parents had left me, and now my grandfather had gone too.

We returned to my grandfather’s house after the funeral. The ride home was a quiet one even after we came to the doorsteps of the humble home of my grandfather’s porch. There were few words said between us, if any at all. And even when we stood at the entrance and I thought Mr. McClellan would say something, I didn’t give him a chance and rushed up the stairs. I thought he would come after me, but he didn’t; he remained rooted at the bottom of the staircase, looking towards me as I slammed the bedroom door.

I collapsed, looking about at the traditional furniture. How I’d hated the style when I’d first come to live with him. And now, I regarded everything I had ever said or thought about him and his home. I wanted nothing to change. I grabbed at the posters I had hung on my wall and ripped them down. I took out the jewelry box that was on the dresser before I hid it in the table near the bed and set it on the table again where it belonged.

I sat on the bed and opened the drawer beside the bed to take out the picture of my parents and me. It was the last picture I would ever have of them with me. I dropped onto the bed near the very edge, holding the picture and then setting it on the table beside me where I could admire it. I now sobbed and sobbed.

I must have fallen asleep. When I awoke, I noticed the scattered posters on the floor and the picture of my parents and I set where I left it. I rose and sat up on the bed.

The house was fairly silent and almost scary. Immediately I wondered if Mr. McClellan had left me alone and what, if anything, would happen to my grandfather’s house now. I hadn’t given that much thought, but it concerned me. I wanted nothing to happen to it. Was there a chance I could say something? Was this place to be mine now? If so, I wouldn’t let anything happen to it. I would make sure of that.

I walked to my bedroom door and tried to listen outside for any sounds, but I could hear nothing. Slowly, I opened the door and quietly peeked out, but I could see nothing of the first floor of the house even though the staircase was very close to my bedroom. The door to my grandfather’s bedroom was ajar, and I tried not to look inside as I came out. I closed the door without looking inside the room.

I came to the foot of the staircase and looked down and slowly made my way down the steps, but a few steps betrayed me when my weight descended upon the old wood.

Then, I heard Mr. McClellan; he was in the kitchen on the phone, and he seemed to be discussing arrangements for a moving truck. I guess we would be moving, but I couldn’t let him sell my grandfather’s house.

And when he hung up, I rushed into the kitchen.

“You can’t sell my grandfather’s house. I won’t let you,” I told him.

He looked surprised to see me.

“This is all I have left from him. You can’t sell it!” I angrily shouted.

He shook his head at me. The pots hanging above the kitchen counter began to rattle and suddenly, a few dropped and darted across the kitchen. Mr. McClellan grabbed hold of my shoulders and got my attention.

“Claudia!” He yelled. “Listen,” he said nervously as I gazed up at him; the tears were already racing down my furious eyes as I bit my lip. I pinched it hard and felt a throbbing pain at the side of my mouth and knew I had cut it.

“Listen to me! I’m not selling your grandfather’s house,” he immediately said. The anger eased in me as I now looked up at him, but I couldn’t stop the tears that were already coming down from my eyes.

“I would never do that. Neil left this place for you. This house is yours. It’s what he wanted,” he tried to say.

“Then why did you call for a moving truck? Why are we moving? Why are we leaving?”

He looked troubled, and then I realized. I wasn’t moving out –he was moving in.

“You’re the one moving,” I softly stated, gazing up at him.

He nodded. “I thought it would be easier that way. This is your home, and it’s the right thing to do,” he softly added; there was awkward silence between us as he walked out of the kitchen and into the foyer. He then turned to me, taking his keys from the table by the door.

“I’m expecting the movers at my apartment in a few minutes,” he began.

But before he could continue, I interrupted and said, “Can I just stay here? I’d rather not go anywhere.”

He didn’t say anything at first and fell silent, but it appeared he restrained himself from objection. There was a need to please and be accepted by me, by any means possible. He nodded simply, walked to the door and opened it. He stood there at the entrance.

“I won’t be gone long. Keep the door locked,” he said. He tried to be firm, but he reminded me of a gentle bunny.

“I have my phone on me. If you need me, please call me,” he again said, and with that, he walked out the door leaving me alone in my grandfather’s old house. I almost regretted staying behind when I looked about the house.

I ran up the stairs and into my bedroom, dropping to the bed once again. I just wanted it to end. I wanted to think of something else, but the pain inside of me wouldn’t allow it. The guilt, if nothing else, was eating me alive.

You feel guilty because you didn’t listen to him, my inner voice told me. Because you ignored him, you feel guilt, and now he’s gone forever.

I was exhausted but the tears wouldn’t stop, even after I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else. But even in my dreams, I only saw my grandfather. He was standing there in his office. One moment he was smiling, and the next he was falling to the floor, grabbing at his heart as he did, and as his body lie on the ground, a crystal rolled out of the palm of his hand and onto the ground a few inches from him. And there it lay until a bony, pale hand reached down to the ground and plucked it from the floor. The man in the black suit and red tie was standing over my grandfather now, clutching the crystal in his pale hand.

“Grandfather!” The word slipped through my lips at the sight of the man. His head spun towards me.

He pointed a bony finger over at me as he had before when we first met. “You are my answer,” he said. “You are the beginning and end of this. Come to me.”

He made a movement towards me, and I screamed.

Suddenly, I sat up in bed; it was just a dream, a bad dream. I couldn’t make sense of it, and I didn’t want to as I jumped up and walked to the door of my bedroom and slowly opened it. I came out and saw men in overalls coming in and out of the front door of the house, carrying boxes inside.

Mr. McClellan appeared at the entrance directing the traffic, and he didn’t see me as he disappeared out of the door. I walked back into my bedroom and closed the door behind me, dropping on the bed again. I rolled to the side and stared at the picture of my parents and me. I knew then things were going to change. Nothing had ever been normal for me, even when my parents were alive. But at least I had something in common with my father, and I felt I could always feel safe. Now, I wasn’t sure of the future even though I knew that Mr. McClellan was trustworthy. My grandfather had trusted him enough to leave me in his care. I didn’t doubt he was a kindhearted man.

We must have said only two words the first two days he was there. I spent most of my time in my room. I could tell he didn’t want to bother me, and sometimes he would leave my dinner outside on the table by the door. It was only after the fourth day that I decided to come downstairs and join him. He was in the kitchen by the dinner table, just finishing his dinner. Standing by the sink, he was putting up the dishes when he turned and saw me standing by the table staring back at him.

“Claudia?” He mumbled, surprised to see me emerge from my hole.

“Are you hungry? Can I get you something?” He nervously stuttered, stumbling with the dishes in his hands.

“No, I’m fine,” I whispered; he immediately dropped what he was doing, putting the last dish in the dishwasher and approached as I took a seat at the dinner table.

“I can get you something. I’m sorry I forgot what time it was,” he said, putting a hand to his head for a moment. Then he looked back up at me.

“I hope this is alright?” He suddenly asked, and I glanced up at him in question as his sad eyes looked over at me.

“I mean, me being here. It’s what your grandfather wanted. I don’t know what he was thinking of when he chose me.” A smile spread over his face as he again glanced over at me.

“Not that I don’t want to, you understand,” he assured me with a serious expression. “But me, well, I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said as he put his hands on the chair in front of him.

“And I don’t want you to feel like you have to be with me. I’m sure if you don’t want to be with me, other things could be arranged.” He took a deep breath. With his eyes sad and droopy, he gazed away. “If that’s what you want.” He took a seat in front of me.

“I want you to be my guardian, Mr. McClellan. It’s what my grandfather wanted. It’s what I want now,” I softly answered, and he nodded with a smile.

“Okay,” he replied. “Okay.”

He rose from the table, pushing the chair back as he stood in front of me, nodding his head.

“I made enchiladas,” he said as if he’d just realized it.

I managed a smile as he said that. He seemed to be very proud of the fact.

“You cook?” I asked surprised.

“Yeah,” he grinned, appearing almost embarrassed. “Your grandfather never complained. He was one of my biggest fans.” He laughed slightly, and I could see he missed my grandfather too. His gaze drifted before he realized he was thinking of him and he moved away as if to fix me a plate. He stopped by the sink to gather himself.

“Would you like some?” He asked without turning. I nodded at first and then replied, “Sure, I’d like some.”

He moved quickly, lifting a plate from the cabinet and moving it to the stove to scoop up the food from the cooking dish sitting there. He seemed to really know his way around my grandfather’s kitchen.

Taking a fork from the lower drawer, he put the plate in front of me. His teary eyes made no attempt to look at me. He was embarrassed or perhaps afraid to upset me.

“They’re really good. But I’m not just saying that because…” he started to say, then smiled, and moved away to wipe down the stove. He appeared fairly clumsy, stumbling around and trying to avoid the obvious. It was then that I realized I didn’t know him. I didn’t know any of them, but now I wanted to. I had been too busy being angry that I hadn’t given anyone a chance.

“You guys were good friends?”

Although it sounded like a question, it wasn’t. It was obvious they had been close.

“Yes,” he said, turning and resting his hands on the top of the chair in front of him. “We were very good friends,” he said, finally looking up at me. Then he lowered his head; he was fighting the urge to cry, and I felt foolish for asking anything.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to bring up memories.”

His teary eyes looked over at me and widened with guilt.

“Oh no,” he said. “Don’t be.” He took a seat on the chair nearby. I put the fork down, feeling my lips quiver uncontrollably.

“He wanted to talk to me, and I wouldn’t listen. I treated him so badly. I’m sorry,” I again whispered, swallowing the tears in my throat, but they still managed to escape the corners of my eyes.

“You didn’t know,” Mr. McClellan said.

“If only I had listened to what he had to say. If I only…” I couldn’t hold the tears any longer. Mr. McClellan immediately kneeled beside me.

“How could you have known? You can’t blame yourself,” he reassured me.

“But I should have listened when he wanted to talk to me. Now it’s too late.” I said.

“Claudia, you can’t feel that way; he wouldn’t have wanted you to feel this way,” Mr. McClellan brushed the hair away from my face. I dropped into his arms and a long sigh escaped my lips.

“He was my grandfather, and I turned him away. Now I’m alone.” I wept as I gripped him tightly, sensing him hesitate until I said those words, and then he hugged me tightly in return.

“Mr. McClellan,” I whispered. “He was all I had, and now he’s gone.”

He pulled me back and looked at me, brushing the hair from my face again.

“You have me,” he said. “I made a promise to your grandfather that I would protect you no matter what, and I intend to keep it.”

I again reached for him.

He held me tightly like I was his child, and I felt him exhale and perhaps even softly sob.

“Now,” he said with a struggle. “Enough of that Mr. Stuff, okay?” I heard him swallow with difficulty; there was indeed a smile forming on his face, fighting through the sobs that had managed to drown his own voice out at first.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore, not if you don’t want to,” he softly said, but I think it was more for his benefit.

“Michael,” I whispered, unsure of what he meant, his promise to my grandfather. His words rang with uncertainty.

“Protect me from what?” I asked, feeling his grip tighten and suddenly shake. And through his thoughts, I heard him panic:

The burden to speak the truth of him has fallen upon me!

4

New man on campus,

John Black

The New Principal

I arrived at the safe house. It was a very beautiful, two-story large white Victorian house with an old antique fence surrounding it. The house was empty this evening, but I knew that at any given time it wouldn’t be for long. Agents came at different hours, but not too many at a given time, so as not to arouse suspicion. Tonight, it would be me, and tomorrow it would be another.

It was late when I climbed up the porch steps, and the porch light was lit. I used the key that had been left in my Shelby Mustang by The Company. I entered, hearing my steps on the hard, wooden floor echoing throughout the beautiful decorative interior. The entrance was lit and quite welcoming with a beautiful large mirror on mustard walls, decorated in crown modeling. A vase with decorative plants sat upon a lovely mahogany table. I admired taste, style, and beauty, and there was plenty of it to go around in this place.

The kitchen was modern and seemed freshly renovated, and the living room was full of white leather, mahogany tables, decorative plants and vases, and even a grand piano at the far end. The large windows were covered in white flowing curtains that draped down upon the glossy clean wooden floors. The second-floor stairs were just a few steps away from the entrance, leading up into a twisted staircase above where a beautiful chandelier hung like crystal daggers.

All of the wood in the house was beautifully polished. The entire place was empty, yet well-kept. The place looked frozen in time, almost too clean. There were details that still appeared to have been part of the house when it was freshly built, and yet there were also parts added for modern times like the kitchen. It had appliances that were all stainless steel, with an added island in the center, pots and pans hanging from above the centerpiece, and a bowl of fresh fruit sitting on the counter. I helped myself, but then I realized it was only seemingly-real décor fruit.

Dropping the plastic apple back into the bowl, I made my way up the second floor and entered the hallway; the floors on the second floor were no different, all lovely with decorative hardwood. The walls were a pastel green, and there were framed photographs of boats used to decorate the long extended hall: all kinds of boats, fishing boats, old boats, abandoned boats, and even World War II military boats.

The house had five bedrooms; I headed to the one at the end. Upon opening the door, I found myself in a large bedroom. White curtains draped the window, and there was a large bed at the far end, decorated in satin red sheets and encompassed by mahogany bedposts. But at this moment, I wasn’t the least interested in the bed. I was interested in the mahogany desk and the black leather briefcase upon it.

I very slowly closed the door and made my way inside. There was nothing much in the room; a few antique rugs under the bed covered the beautiful glossy floors, and there were two side doors to the closet and bathroom. On the walls were a few framed old photographs like the ones on the hallway walls, but these were of men in uniform. Nazi uniforms. Who’s sick idea for decoration was this?

As I came around the desk and peered at the briefcase, a computer screen welcomed me. The words ADA scrawled in an access window sat facing me as I sat down on the black leather seat in front of the desk.

After logging in, another screen appeared and the face of The Man in White popped up facing me. On the side of the screen, a few files appeared.

“Did you enjoy your flight?” Bryce asked.

“Cut to the chase, Bryce. What’s the urgency of this assignment?” I immediately asked. Still upset at the loss of my potential fuck.

The Man in White merely smiled. I didn’t like it when he smiled; it usually meant a bad thing for me. He knew more than me, and I liked being in control. We both did. It was a constant struggle with us. I liked to think he enjoyed it more than I did.

“You’ll have time for your whore after your assignment,” he suddenly answered the apparent. “I want nothing to go wrong. No distractions...”

I wanted to growl back at him. How dare he tell me what I can and can’t do!

“The Alien has been active…He’s returned,” he merely said. The smile, if there had been one on my face, soon vanished. I gritted my teeth, bit my lip, and nearly rose to my feet.

He had been the only one to have ever escaped me.

But he wasn’t my obsession as much as he was Bryce’s obsession. Him or it, a species the ADA & ODA, had become familiar with. In fact, The Company had dubbed them the Classic Q project, classic for their immortality and Q for their quickness, I assume. Sure it was fast, no doubt.

But this thing particularly fancied Bryce, and I didn’t know why. Perhaps it was some sick form of revenge, or perhaps it was the last of its kind, and he had to have it. I didn’t know anything about this thing. All I was instructed to do was hunt and capture it.

The ADA & ODA were two separate divisions among The Company I worked for; one was in charge of acquiring Oddities or anomalies among the masses, and the other division detected and extracted alien life forms.

I worked for both; I was their hunter, or as The Company called us, Venatores. We were not to be confused with men in black; we were something far worse, something to fear. And those who knew us knew always to run. We played by no government agency but were merely funded by an underground network called The Company.

Project X was Nicholson’s top priority. My first encounter with it was in an abandoned building where I had lost my squad. I guess you can say we had a history. Project X was a secret, the darkest secret of the ADA, and it was one I didn’t even know much about. It was that confidential.

“I want you on this one,” Bryce said.

“Why didn’t you say so?” I angrily responded, narrowing my eyes towards the screen.

“We detected something, whether or not it was indeed Project X, we were unsure. But now it has been confirmed. I want you to retrieve him; he’s on the move.”

“On the move, where?” As soon as I asked, a file opened alongside the image of The Man in White. The image was a school, Milton High. I read the small bio beneath.

“What’s this?” I asked, speed-reading through the file, but knowing well enough that Bryce would brief me.

“A high school,” he offered with a curved lip. “The alien has taken refuge in a High School.”

“So then let’s get it. Send a team and take it down. I’ll lead,” I volunteered.

“No more teams. Not this time. We’re both aware the Alien does not respond well to threats. I don’t want a repeat of our last encounter,” he very coldly added. The tone in his voice revealed more; he blamed me for the alien’s escape and for the loss of our combat team.

“Something has lured it. And I intend to discover what,” The Man in White said. “Let’s avoid any and all unnecessary causalities on your part.”

I hated it when he talked to me like he knew better than me. I’ve been doing this for a long time. I wasn’t a fool. But again, it was merely control on his part.

“Is this your idea of easy?” I knew Project X was nothing easy. A lot of men had died the last time we had run into it, a lot of good men, some of the best.

Another image appeared. “This is the principal of Milton High, Dr. Neil Edwards.”

“Where does he come in?” I firmly asked.

“He’s dead,” Bryce coldly answered. There never seemed to be any emotion in any of his words, no anger, no disappointment. I often got worried about if he was even real.

“Okay,” I slowly replied. I didn’t ask what this had to do with me. I knew it was coming. “Project X?” I asked in reference to his death.

“It has not been confirmed, but as of yesterday, he is deceased, victim of a heart attack according to the authorities,” Bryce said. “A man by the name Michael McClellan, although not officially appointed by the School District as his substitute, has been handling the duties of the late Dr. Neil Edwards. They were good friends.”

A few other files appeared alongside Neil Edwards, the file of Michael McClellan, the file of J. Claypool, the file of R. Vasquez, the file of Alice Wallace, all pictured in their school photographs. Two additional files of the security detail the school had to offer appeared. They looked like a happy bunch of pencil pushers. But what did this have to do with Project X or me?

“This is the staff,” Bryce said, and there was a small grin on his face. Or at least I thought there was. I could never really tell. Was he laughing at the confusion on my face? He liked seeing the bewilderment on my features. He liked knowing more than me. He liked the fucking control.

“Study them. Learn everything about them,” he continued.

“Bryce—” I began, but he interrupted me.

“As of today, you have now been appointed, Dr. Neil Edwards’ replacement. You will proceed by the name Dr. John Black. Infiltrate, detect, and retrieve. That is your assignment,” he firmly said behind a noticeable grin.

“Wait! Wait a minute. What are you saying?” I nearly lost it, and my words stumbled out of my mouth with difficulty.

He merely laughed which was strange to hear for the first time simply because his expression didn’t seem to change at all or match his lips.

“I’m no teacher,” I was quick to say. I’m a skilled hunter, a killer. I had no business, no ideas about schools, not to mention kids. The very idea troubled me.

“All the documents that you will require are in the yellow envelope inside the desk’s top drawer.” Apparently, he wasn’t listening to me. I checked the drawer and the envelope was there where he said it was. I opened it, and all the documents I needed to be Dr. John Black, as he had stated were right there.

It seemed that the hard part of getting the position had already had been taken care of by The Company. I was now Dr. John Black, the new principal for Milton High whether I liked it or not. I wondered what my doctorate was in.

“I can’t do this. I already told you. I’m no teacher,” I snarled.

“The job is easy, John. Surely even you can pretend to be someone else for a brief period, for a mere three million,” Bryce said.

“Why me?” I asked, looking for any reason not to take the assignment.

“Very simple: you look the part. And you’re one of my best men. Besides, you know the Alien; you’ve dealt with him. And if anyone can retrieve him, it would be you. I know how much you want a chance to take him down.” Bryce said, almost with a chuckle; he knew it would get to me.

“But like this? What can I possibly do behind a fucking desk?” I snarled in response.

“The Alien is not so easily fooled,” Bryce said as if he knew him very well. It was very possible he did know him very well.

“We need to play the part. He’s there waiting for a reason, and I want to so badly know why. Why is he there? Why now? Infiltrate and then retrieve my prize, and you’ll be greatly rewarded.” he said. “To assure you of the importance of this project, the payment has been raised to five million.”

I nearly choked but managed to keep my composure.

“Very well. But I want an advancement of a million,” I said.

He grinned. “I figured that much. A transfer has been made to your account for the amount of one million as requested. Make sure you bring him back in one piece.”

“I’ll try my best,” I said with a grin.

“Also, there’s an added bonus if you find the source,” The Man in White added.

“Source?” I wondered what he meant.

“I mean, the source that has attracted the Alien to this particular location. I want it as well. If you can find it, well, then you will be a very rich man.”

“How much are we talking about?” I curiously asked, narrowing my eyes at the screen. Bryce now appeared whiter from the other end, almost like the suit he was wearing.

“Another five million,” he said. The smile on my face spread as I licked my lips and took the envelope from the desk. I looked through the items and then put them back into the envelope.

“You’ll have your alien and the source. Have my money ready,” I advised him; he smiled, and his eyes flashed.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, in the envelope, you will also find your new location. I’ve secured a new rental for you in the fashionable River Oaks area, close to the target destination. You’ll find the details inside.”

I took the documents out again; inside, there was a small envelope with a pair of house keys and a lease for the rental along with my required ID cards identifying me as a school educator. The Company had prepared everything; all I had to do was play the role.

“You’re to meet with Michael McClellan tomorrow. I want you to get a feel of the place. He’s expecting you. Get a feel of him too. Get acquainted,” he said, his lips slightly curved. He looked like he was enjoying this.

“Also, you’ll find a briefcase under the bed with a few devices you may require to retrieve the alien. Don’t hesitate to use them. We are both very aware of how quick and clever he can be,” he lectured me. I hated it when he did that, like I was some kind of newbie.

I looked over at the bed; the briefcase was there as he’d indicated.

“Listen very carefully, I want to make this perfectly clear.” I glared over at the screen, slightly lifting an eyebrow. What now?

“You are a respected educator, a principal with the highest outstanding merits. We have painted the perfect picture of excellence,” Bryce said.

“Bryce, why are you telling me this?” I asked as he suddenly came forward on his seat.

“Because I know how you like to frequent brothels.” His tone of voice slightly rose.

“Why is that relevant?” I asked, almost wanting to laugh, slightly embarrassed that he had dared to say it out loud.

“Because I can’t have my respected educator seen in a whorehouse,” he said, lifting and wagging his finger at my eye level, like a scolding father figure.

“You will play the role to the tee, so no whorehouses, no social activity of any kind, and no women whatsoever,” he firmly said.

“What?” I roared, gripping the monitor. “What am I supposed to do until then?”

“It’s not any of my concern,” Bryce said.

I smiled, weren’t a majority of teachers female? He seemed to read my face.

“Your time might be better employed and profitable if you were to concentrate on finding something constructive to occupy all your efforts to rather than performing anatomically impossible acts of perversion.” He firmly instructed.

“Having said that, it’s essential you do not blow your cover.”

I dropped into my chair, thinking deeply. In the brief pause, Bryce started laughing, startling me out of my thoughts. “You’re seriously considering such perversion on female staff? Even after my warnings?” He asked with that strange smirk on his face. He always seemed to know what I thought.

“Well, you’ve given me very little options, Sir,” I firmly said.

“I have, haven’t I? But it’s required.” He smiled and leaned back into his seat.

“We must be consistent,” he said. “We must appear the part. We can’t risk any problems, anyone discovering your true identity, especially the alien. He must never be aware of our presence.” He knew I hated it. Did he love seeing me in agony? No brothels? How would I survive without getting laid?

“Remember: infiltrate, detect, and retrieve. Report to me once you’re settled into your new role, but until then, maintain radio silence.”

His image vanished, and I sat there staring at the flashing cursor, stroking the bottom of my chin in thought.

I picked up the documents again. Glaring at the picture ID, of this Dr. John Black I was to become. Kind of catchy I would agree. I clicked on the pictures of each individual on the laptop screen and read each bio briefly. I was to meet Michael McClellan tomorrow, so I read up on him first. He was a single and simple boring man with white peppered hair and dark eyebrows; below, there were several links that opened to references, clippings of his charity work and his awards. He was dedicated, and I was not impressed.

I clicked on Dr. Neil Edwards next. I read through his bio which described him as a dedicated educator. I mumbled and read down until I came to a link of references below. I continued to read and clicked on the news references under the family.

I read the following:

Dr. Neil Edwards, respected educator and community hero, was awarded and honored at a large ceremony for his great achievements…

I continued reading down past the interview with Dr. Edwards about his great achievements. The story continued, regarding Dr. Edwards’ funeral arrangements and those in attendance. The number reached over two hundred; apparently, he was very well loved. He had made several donations to charity, but the majority of his assets were left to his heirs. I wondered who those heirs were, and I read on:

Michael McClellan was appointed the guardian of late Dr. Edwards’ assets. With no other known relatives, devoted friend and colleague Michael McClellan is appointed successor of Dr. Edwards’ estate. Responding to allegations that he was after Dr. Edwards’ money, Michael said the following: “I’m not doing this for the money. I have nothing to gain. Neil was my best friend, and I’m doing this for him because it’s the way he wanted it. This is all for her care and well-being.”

The caption ended there. Was he cut off?

I shook my head. Her well-being? Who was she?

Then it hit me; Michael McClellan was an appointed guardian, a guardian of whom? I looked around my files, but there was no mention of heirs in Dr. Edwards’ history. If there was any, I had no access to it. Why?

I clicked on the family story, but the link merely took me to the story of Dr. Edwards’ brief interview. I searched the files, looking for photographs, references, or anything regarding this nameless heir. That couldn’t be a typo. I assumed if there was one, she was most likely now staying with Michael McClellan, and I wondered why it wasn’t mentioned at all in the files that I had. Was it simply irrelevant?

I clicked link after link, hoping to get a photograph of the late Edwards or even one of McClellan with the mysterious heir. But the photograph was an old one with no clue as to this unknown heir. It just couldn’t be an error.

I clicked out of the ADA website and logged out, doing my own Google searches into the obituaries, and I found by mere luck a local mention of Dr. Edwards on the school website. I read through the attendance list including:

Mr. Vasquez and Mr. Claypool, Milton’s assistant principals and staff including Michael McClellan and the late Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter, Claudia Belle.

“A granddaughter?” I hissed. She had to be the heir. I wondered why Bryce had failed to send me her file. And why wasn’t she even mentioned on the ADA website? The Company didn’t just make mistakes like that.

It was odd that I had to find out from a local school paper; not even the local media had mentioned this one important thing. This was important. She was important.

Wasn’t she?

Now, I was more curious as to why Bryce had failed to send her file. Perhaps she was not important, but that still didn’t make sense. I had files on everyone involved, even those of unimportance. She was obviously important; after all, she was Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter. I should know about her. How was I supposed to play the part of an educator who appreciated a man like Dr. Edwards and had followed his example if I didn’t know about his life?

How was I supposed to be that man without knowing that bit of information? I couldn’t just assume Bryce thought I would get my information from these links and research articles. That’s why we had The Company researchers to find things the newspaper articles couldn’t supply us with.

I did another Google search under the name Claudia Belle; the only hit I got was of a Nicholas Belle, a CEO for a large financial firm. I clicked the name but the page was no longer available. I came back to the results and clicked on another page, but the same thing happened. I was curious to know if this had anything at all to do with Claudia Belle.

I entered his name into The Company server just for my own curiosity, but the name came back with no results found. Well, that didn’t help. It only led to more questions.

I opened another window and clicked onto The Company server and onto The Company email and opened a new message; on it, I typed all in caps:

WHO IS CLAUDIA BELLE?

I then hit send; after doing so, I logged off and rose from the seat to stretch, walking over to the window and gazing out into the quiet night. It was now midnight. I looked over at the bed and it was looking very nice right about now, so I walked over and dropped on it. Looking up at the ceiling, I thought of schools, desks, teachers, and even kids that would soon be my new reality, and then, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

5

Michael McClellan

Michael planned to meet with the new principal during the school day; the district had warned him that the new principal was a very professional educator and he should make the best impression possible. He figured that the best place to do that was in Dr. Edwards’ old office. By tomorrow, the movers would be arriving and cleaning the office and making room for the new principal’s belongings, taking out the furniture and replacing it with new items.

He thought of discussing it with Claudia but then considered that perhaps keeping it quiet was the best way to protect her from having to go through the whole thing again. It was hard for him to stand within Neil’s old office, recollecting old times when they would talk during the day.

And now he was alone, looking at all the plaques and framed pictures on the walls. There was a picture of Claudia on the desk; he hadn’t seen it there before, and he figured Neil had placed it there before he…

He didn’t want to think about it again. Did he try to fight that moment of death? Who didn’t try to fight the hand of death when it unexpectedly came calling? If only he had been there, but even if he had, would that have made any difference? Would he have been able to save him? Perhaps he was just trying to justify his absence with excuses.

Michael took a seat in Neil’s old chair, feeling the desk with his hands, recalling Neil’s own hands upon it many times. He saw things through Neil’s perspective as he looked towards the door from his place at the desk. He lowered his head, staring at the picture on the wall and then at the picture on the desk. One was of Claudia, and the other was of Neil alone by the entrance of the school.

He picked up the picture of Claudia. It had been taken possibly outside of her home, possibly for her birthday. He wondered how Neil had gotten his hands on it. Well, the man always had his ways. He smirked; he wondered what Claudia would have thought of such a thing if she had ever seen it, and then he put it inside the top drawer of the desk. He allowed the other picture of Neil to stay up on the wall, merely to admire it or perhaps feel Neil was watching him.

He was already thinking of how he would get Neil’s things out of the building; he would simply instruct the movers to deliver the items to his house, Neil’s old house. And then, while Claudia was at school, he would put them up in the attic so she would never have to see them and be reminded about anything. He intended to keep his word and protect her. With time, they would go through the items together; perhaps he would even bring a few pictures down and display them in the house.

6

Dr. John Black

“Getting the feel for the position?” I asked, glaring into the office, staring at a man with white ghostly, short hair and dark eyebrows. He looked up from behind the desk; he looked confused and embarrassed when he looked over at me from the other side. It seemed as though I had startled him from a very deep thought.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m Dr. John Black.” God, that sounded strange. Then I asked, “Are you the acting principal, Michael McClellan?”

But, of course, I already knew who he was; I had read over his file twice. He was an English teacher, never been married, and lived in a single one-bedroom apartment. He basically did nothing but teach. He had never been in any real trouble, not even a parking ticket. His only mistake was being in my way and being good friends with Dr. Edwards, the man I was sent to replace.

He cleared his throat and barely moved until I entered and came forward, and only then did he stumble to his feet, coming towards me and extending his hand out to me. I shook it. He seemed surprised by my strong handshake, and he even stiffened as I firmly shook it and smiled. I laughed on the inside at this timid form of a man before me. I wasn’t prepared for it merely because I am always out in the field with much bigger foes, dangerous and daring people that were always trying to kill me. Foes came at you without fear and looked you in the eyes before they tried to choke the life out of you. Michael was obviously not a foe.

He shook my hand, and I noticed that he looked out of the office and motioned to the secretary, a woman with cotton white hair and large black-framed glasses. She hadn’t been there before when I’d come in, but she was no concern to me. She seemed to have only four or five years before retirement. She went to church to play bingo and often visited the casinos in New Orleans. She spent her evenings watching reality shows like Dancing with the Stars, and had been working in the school district for almost twenty years. She had no living relatives and considered Milton her home away from home.

Mr. McClellan was still holding my hand when I smiled again; I wanted to ask if I could have that back, but I think the look I gave him had already done that, and he might have even blushed. I could see he was nervous, and I had thought women were the only creatures John Slater could make squirm.

I looked back at the secretary as she nodded, and Mr. McClellan closed the door behind us. I didn’t ask why he closed the door. Perhaps he was expecting someone; perhaps he was asking her not to let anyone interrupt us. Whatever it was, I was in no real danger, not with this guy at least.

“Yes, sir I am,” Mr. McClellan nervously answered. He looked embarrassed. Did I have the same effect on men that I had on women? Perhaps it was the dark sunglasses, my infrared device that I hadn’t yet removed. Mr. McClellan, obviously human, and not my target. I always found it a little hard to speak to someone behind a pair of eyeglasses, especially if that eyeglass was shaded, but it looked like he had a harder time meeting me in the eyes when I finally did remove them, putting them in the side pocket of my striped blue suit. My tie was crisscrossed with light purple lines. I preferred wearing a suit and tie; I preferred looking my best for any occasion, even to murder. People found me pleasant to look at: professional and not at all dangerous. Was it always the suit, or was it the smile on my handsome face they found pleasant? But this morning, the suit was required for the title I would play.

Mr. McClellan looked delighted and yet somewhat confused and impressed. I was used to the look, the confusion, and curiosity. My boss had often said I was too uptight. But I didn’t take well to change, especially from something I very much enjoyed. But the millions he would soon pay me would make up for all of my troubles.

“Welcome sir, welcome,” he again said; his hands were trembling. Yes, I could be intimidating with my height, my confidence, and my self-assured smile.

“We have been expecting you. Don’t worry about the furniture and other items; the movers will be in tomorrow to set things ready for you,” Mr. McClellan nervously said.

“Not a worry,” I said. I took a moment to look around even though I knew I wouldn’t be there for long.

“This used to be Dr. Edwards’ office, correct?” I politely asked. Of course, I already knew the answer from things I had seen around the room. When working in the field I worked in, one had to be aware of his surroundings. I had spotted pictures on the walls, along the bookshelves, and even on the desk. The man was an overachiever. His name was everywhere alongside the occasional photograph. Besides, I had the file on Dr. Neil Edwards. I knew everything about this place.

Mr. McClellan looked at me as though my mannerisms seemed alien to him. In fact, he hadn’t stopped looking at me in that manner since I’d arrived. It was a thought that I was aware kept repeating in his mind: he doesn’t belong here. Perhaps he was confused by the way I conducted myself. I’d forgotten myself again: my place and my character. His eyes said it all. I was pleasant to look at and yet too professional to be accepted. I tried hard to do my part, to pretend and shed what I was used to, but that would take time.

“Yes, sir,” Mr. McClellan answered, politely glancing over at me. I walked around, looking at the items in the office; I had no actual interest, of course. I had Dr. Edwards’ file; he was an older man with a granddaughter, Claudia Belle. It was her file I didn’t have. Before my arrival to Milton, Bryce had responded to my email with a single word:

Sending

I wanted an explanation and knew I would get it soon, but as for now, I was on my own with only the brief information I’d acquired from the Internet. I assumed Bryce would explain his email to me in time once I had given him my first report. At least I hoped this was true. Besides, what trouble could any of these people really cause? The assignment was simple: infiltrate, detect, and retrieve. It was only a matter of time, and then I could leave this place and be back to my old ways. I could already taste the rewarding red wine and the lady of my choosing.

“I hold great respect for Dr. Edwards. He was a great educator; he started his career as a teacher and was promoted to principal later in life. He missed the contact with his students,” I said, turning with a smile on my face. It was just mere small talk, mere bullshit, and mere conversation that held no interest for me.

“I admired that devotion. I can never replace a man like that,” I said, blinking back slightly. Mr. McClellan appeared amazed by my knowledge. It was wise to know the intended target; although, Dr. Edwards was not the actual target. It was my job to act the part of the devoted and caring principal; it was what the role required. It was what I had to be. And although I hated every part of it, it was my job.

Mr. McClellan already admired that about me. He was easy to convince, and I only hoped the rest would be easy as well. My job would become easier than it already was. I watched him glance down at the mess on the desk, perhaps embarrassed by it. There was a pile of papers and other items on the desk, pictures and folders he had removed out of the desk drawers. He was sorting out Dr. Edwards’ personal and work items and separating them on top of the desk.

“Sorry about the mess,” he politely offered.

“Mr. McClellan, it’s quite alright. Given the circumstances, I should be apologizing to you,” I kindly said.

He seemed taken aback by my polite manner.

“Well, thank you, sir. But please call me Michael and welcome to Milton High, if I haven’t already said that,” Michael nervously added as he shook my hand again. The man was incredibly nervous and smiled as he realized we had already shaken hands. I glanced at the picture on the desk and admired the frame.

“Dr. Edwards had a granddaughter? You’ve been appointed guardianship of her, correct? What has become of her?” I asked, having no file on her; it was a bad call on my part to question, but it would offer some form of Intel about her. It was something I needed. The picture in my hands was of Dr. Edwards standing by a buffalo at the entrance of the school. Damn, I sure had hoped for a picture of her in case I ran into her. It would be very polite to know her and offer my condolences.

Michael merely glanced at me curiously, perhaps confused at first as to what I meant until he realized what it was I held.

“I have. Yes, sir,” he uttered. “Claud—” Michael said before I interrupted.

“Claudia Belle, correct?” I finished for Michael.

“Yes, sir,” Michael answered; although he didn’t know how I knew, he didn’t seem to chance to ask. Though I could tell he was curious as to why I had asked about her, it was perhaps the polite thing to do since Edwards was now gone. I asked only out of curiosity, information, and boredom. It was part of the role, and it wasn’t one I was enjoying much.

“How is she doing? And her parents?” I politely asked.

“They’re deceased, sir. Recently from a car accident,” Michael politely answered; I swallowed, realizing my Intel had been answered.

“She’s doing well considering the events of these past weeks. Thank you for asking,” Michael said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she had also recently lost her parents,” I said. It was quite a tragedy. “It would be an honor to meet her. I’d like to offer my condolences,” I politely offered.

Michael thought I was being sincere, but I was just being bold and direct about certain things on my mind. That’s how I often discovered things about others without trying too hard to search for them. They merely offered the information voluntarily. It was part of the job, a part that was dull and boring. I was more of a skilled killer, and office work bored me. But now, I knew a bit about Miss Belle even though Bryce had failed to send me the file. She was, after all, important if she was Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter.

“Is she here?” I asked. Michael looked grateful I had inquired; he bought all this bullshit I was feeding him, and I never even hated myself for it. It was part of the job, and I did it well, almost as well as I hunted. The hunt was more entertaining, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t good at both.

“Yes, she’s a student here, sir, but I was hoping to avoid her seeing us here. After all, this is her grandfather’s old office,” Michael said with difficulty. Ah, of course. He was the protective guardian, the acting guardian after Dr. Edwards’ death. What did I care? I had done my homework: every mission required it, every assignment required knowledge of the target and those surrounding the target. You had to be prepared or they could become potential threats. But they really weren’t threats, not in this case.

“Say no more, Michael. I understand, perhaps another time,” I politely said. “Or when I’ve completely settled into the position, then we can get properly acquainted.”

Michael nodded. I had pleased him, and he seemed like a simple man to please or to even fool.

It was then that I realized my assignment seemed too simple; if nothing changed, I would die of boredom and nothing else. What did Michael think of when he looked at me? What did they all think of? Did they think I was too good for this school, too immaculate or professional, or perhaps too handsome? These were all true facts, the very reasons I had not wanted the mission in the first place. I looked very out of place.

“It’s there, and I want you there. You have history.” I again thought of Nicholson’s words.

Did we? Or was it just more bullshit?

“Sir, would you like me to show you around?” Michael suddenly offered. I glared at him; I really had no time. I wanted to escape before the feeling of normal surrounded and suffocated me. This was no place for John Slater.

“Actually, I’m afraid I have another appointment, Michael,” I answered. “I’m meeting with the school board. Nothing to be concerned about, it’s simply procedure. They asked me to pay Milton a quick visit before I present myself later in the morning. That’s why I came here first,” I said.

Michael appeared concerned, and I suddenly realized why. He was scared of losing his job. It was nothing I was familiar with. How odd it was to only fear that, the loss of one’s job. I had far more to fear, but not even that could make it as real as the fear I saw in his eyes. What a simple life. What a boring life.

“I hope everything is alright,” Michael nervously said.

“I’m sure it is,” I offered him, hoping to ease his concerns, but there was no truth to anything of what I had just said. That’s the beauty of it. It was a beautiful lie, The Company’s lie, and John Slater’s lie.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to postpone our little tour for tomorrow,” I said with a smile. “Until then, Michael.”

And with that, I walked out the door. This was going to be an easy task, and for my sanity, I hoped it would end quickly. I hated schools, I hated children, and I hated pencil pushers.

7

Milton high in Mourning

It was bright and early on Monday when Michael’s black Honda SUV drove into the empty space in the teacher’s parking lot. Michael turned off the engine as I sat there, looking straight ahead. He didn’t say anything at first, but after a bit, he turned slightly over to me.

I had missed a week of school after my grandfather’s funeral, and now on my return, I sat wondering if I was ready to face the countless strangers’ sympathetic faces.

“You don’t have to do this now,” Michael very softly said. I turned to look at him; I could see he was genuinely worried about me. And right now, I knew he would do and say anything for me. I tried not to think about what I had heard in his thoughts the day of the funeral and what they meant, if anything. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want him to know I had been in his head, so I decided not to say anything.

“I know,” I very softly whispered. “But things aren’t going to change.” I smiled back at him.

“I have to come to terms with that,” I again said.

“Claudia,” he started to say but I interrupted.

“Michael, I’m alright. I just want to get through this, okay?” I asked, staring back at him, forcing that smile to stay on my lips.

Michael nodded with difficulty and then said, “But, if for any reason you feel…”

“Michael,” I interrupted and put a hand over his; with that, he only smiled and then nodded.

“Very well,” he whispered softly as he took a deep breath. “I’m still assisting with principal duties, so Ms. Witherson will be teaching my class until next week. You’re alright with that?” He asked.

“I suppose so,” I whispered. I didn’t know Ms. Witherson.

“Her class is located on the second floor. If you need help locating it, I can walk you there or have Mr. Claypool or Mr. Vasquez…”

“Michael,” I said cutting him off again. “I can find it myself; please stop worrying.”

He tried to smile but then only nodded his head. “Sorry. All of this is so new to me too,” he said, looking towards Milton’s stone building entrance as the yellow buses were driving up and taking their places by the side of the building in a yellow, long line. “I don’t want to fail you.” Michael turned back to me.

“You’re not,” I whispered with a smile. I liked the attention he was giving me, the concern that was in great abundance, but I also thought it was too much. I couldn’t blame Michael; he was a kindhearted man with nothing but the best intentions. As he had said, this was all new to him, just as it was for me.

“I’ll have a radio on me if for any reason you need to get hold of me,” Michael softly offered. He looked tired as well as overwhelmed. The temp assigned by the district had left after the second day, and Michael said the new replacement principal was due to arrive pretty soon. But I wasn’t sure when he meant. I knew Michael had been using my grandfather’s office to assume the duties of the principal, and I planned to stay away from there for now; it brought me too many bad feelings, mostly guilt and regrets.

We got out of the car, making our way along the noisy parking lot and walked into the building. Michael held the door for me as I walked into the hallway. The place seemed like a totally different building, much darker than usual. In fact, it even seemed colder; there was something entirely different about it, like the life had been sucked out of it. One could surely agree with that; with my grandfather gone, it sure might have seemed that way.

We came to the end of the hall, where to my left, the main office was, and to my right, the library sat with its abundance of literature calling to me.

It was only six in the morning when Michael opened the door to the office, but he seemed to remember something suddenly, and with that, he closed the door hastily and turned to me. We’d both forgotten how early it was, too early mainly for any teachers; in fact, only the administrators and bus drivers were arriving.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get to work,” he said. His face filled with guilt and worry again.

“I know,” I said to him. “Don’t worry about me.”

I thought of going into the library to read before he said, “But it’s my job to worry.” Then he smiled. “I know you don’t want to wait in there,” he said, referring to my grandfather’s office.

He then reached into his pocket and took out a pair of keys. I thought they were keys to my grandfather’s office, but instead, he handed them to me.

“Ms. Witherson won’t be in for another few minutes, but I’m sure she won’t mind if you sit in the classroom and wait in there for her.” I took the keys from him as he smiled warmly at me.

“You know where it is, right?” He asked again and then seemed to regret when I folded a lip up at him.

“Michael,” I said, gripping the keys in my palm and moving to leave.

“Sorry, I’ll be in here if you need me,” he added. I nodded and began to walk away before he opened the door to the main office. And as I turned the corner, I gazed back at him; he was disappearing through the door. I continued down the hall, finding the dark stairwell and passing the library to my right.

It was still slightly dark outside. The sun seemed to be barely coming up, but soon there would be life in the building, and it would seem like a new life all over again.

I reached the top of the staircase and walked down the dark and eerie hallway to the end where I knew Ms. Witherson’s class was located. Even before I reached the end of the hall, I could see the door of the classroom was wide open, and there was light coming from inside. I was sure it was hers.

I smiled, “Oh, she’s here.”

I thought of returning to the library, but instead, I continued walking towards the lit classroom doorway, considering asking for permission to return to the library to work on makeup work. I thought I’d do that first before Michael worried about me and started panicking. I had to be careful with that man; he was a mess of worry, and he had to be handled with care at times.

I came closer now, directly facing the entrance, and the first thing I saw was Ms. Witherson standing alone among the classroom desks and decor. She was writing an assignment on the chalkboard when I appeared at the entrance of her classroom. She merely glanced over at me, sensing her first thought of dislike creep into her mind. She didn’t like me.

Ms. Witherson was a slender, brown haired woman dressed in a tacky pink pastel blouse, and black slacks, possibly in her thirties. She had never been married and was slightly bitter because of it. It was hard to see all her other friends married off while she stayed the bridesmaid. God, I hated that I could do this so well; it was disgusting, and I couldn’t avoid it because some people were so easy to read. It was more of a challenge not to read them.

She seemed to want to make a first best impression with me for the needs of getting ahead among the faculty. She stopped writing and directed her attention towards me as I took a step into the classroom.

“You must be Claudia Belle,” she said before I could open my mouth to introduce myself. She already knew me. Of course, it seemed to be something going around. And I hated every bit of it. I was never much for being the center of attention. Although, I’ll admit part of me liked it.

“Michael has told me so much about you.”

She was a liar; I could see that in her eyes. I hated that because I could tell when she lied. It was mainly the way she tossed her head back, the way she spoke, and the sound of her voice. The vibrations of one’s voice and its tone always revealed a lot to me. Body language always told me a lot too, but most importantly, it was her mind that offered the most of her dislike towards me.

Her thoughts kept repeating like an endless echo channeling the words spoiled little rich girl.

Why did she hate me? But it was as simple as the money; at least, that’s what her mind kept saying. I had money because of my parents’ deaths and my grandfather’s passing. I had inherited a large fortune and she was jealous of it. The idea that I had lost people I loved had never even crossed her thoughts.

It didn’t matter. She just didn’t like me.

“Michael said it would be alright if I waited in here until class starts. I honestly didn’t think anyone was here yet,” I said as she gave the most surprised expression. Her eyes became large and round.

She laughed softly, a very fake, childless laugh, phony as the smile on her face. “Of course there would be someone here. I take my work very seriously. You make sure you tell Michael that,” she added.

“Mrs. Witherson—” I began to say when she suddenly interrupted me.

“Ms.” She corrected me. Yes, of course I knew that. I figured she wouldn’t make it so obvious, though.

“Would it be alright if I make up my work?” I asked.

“Of course!” She immediately answered.

“In the library?” I added.

She didn't like me: Spoiled little rich girl, her mind kept repeating. Why is everyone so worried about her?

“Oh,” she said, happy with an excuse to get rid of me. “Sure, dear,” she suddenly said.

I turned away, walking to the door and feeling the hair on my arms rise at the emotions I was feeling.

“Miss Belle,” she said, and I stopped halfway out the door and turned slowly, catching sight of her by the desk as she came around it.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to your parents and your grandfather. Dr. Edwards was the kindest and most generous man I had ever known. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. If you ever need a friend or someone just to talk to, I’d like you to consider talking to me. We women have to stick together and offer each other comfort. Remember that, okay?”

Perhaps I was wrong about her, but then, her inner voice cleared that thought away quickly: Spoiled little girl. You think you’re so much better than me.

I angrily rushed away from the entrance, stopping only briefly when I heard a crashing coming from inside of the classroom. A scream, then muttered, cursing from inside. The firm line on my lip spread into a smile; she was alright. The only thing broken was her shelf and a mess of books now scattered all over the floor for her to clean.

That’ll teach her, I thought.

Why was I misbehaving? I had never done anything like that before, but now, coming down the steps towards the entrance of the library I was feeling guilty for doing what I had done. Sure it was just a stupid shelf, but I had done it out of spite, and I had never done something like that. Hell, I couldn’t even control it most of the time, but this time, it seemed as though I had executed a perfect movement.

Daddy would be so pleased.

No he wouldn’t; he would scold me.

Claudia, you know better, he would say. What were you thinking?

Oh God, I was spending so much time alone I was having hallucinations of my father scolding me.

In the library, I sat with a book barricading me from the main office entrance that of course faced me. No, I wasn’t hiding. Okay, maybe I was. I needed time alone without Michael’s nervous worrying. I also couldn’t see the entrance of the main office without thinking about my grandfather stepping out of it and looking over at me. Both my father and he now seemed to haunt me, scolding me for scaring Ms. Witherson with my abilities. But was it them or my own guilt that was eating away at me?

I looked now, and they were both wagging a finger at me.

Claudia, you know better.

I hid behind the book, ashamed. I could apologize, but Ms. Witherson would think I’m nuts, and she didn’t like me already. Why? How could you not like me?

I looked again, but this time, instead of my father and grandfather, I saw a man in a blue suit standing facing the door. He had his back to me, and I immediately hid behind my book. The idea that my father or grandfather had materialized seemed to be impossible.

I stayed like that until I heard voices, Michael’s mainly, and hurried to the back of the library before he saw me. Ducking behind one of the bookshelves and through the spaces between the books, I saw them, Michael and the man in the blue suit. I couldn’t clearly make him out, but he was a very tall fellow with honey brown hair and very clean clothing. He carried with him a beautiful black leather briefcase.

They stood in the hallway with the man in the blue suit looking back towards the library, so I ducked back away so as not to be seen. They soon disappeared into the entrance of the main office, and as I stood there for a few minutes deciding whether or not to take my seat again and get to work, they came back out from the main office entrance and into the hallway. The stranger in the blue suit wandered closer to the glass wall of the library, looking inside as he had before. Had he seen me?

I felt stupid now for hiding. What could he be thinking if he had? Then, just like that, they started walking away and disappeared around the corner heading to the other end of the building. They probably had more principal duties. Perhaps it was best if I just stayed in the back of the library, especially considering the fact that I had a lot of work, and everything seemed to be so distracting.

I nearly dozed off a few times, bored by the school work until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I wanted my mind in another realm to keep me from thinking of what had happened. But who was I fooling? This would never be something I could simply lock away and forget. It would take time.

First the incident, as I had come to call it, confused me to this day. It had to be real. I knew it was. If it had all been a dream, why had he felt so real? Him, my handsome rescuer. His face kept flashing into my thoughts as if he were trying to channel me. But how foolish did that sound? Did I want to believe in him so badly? And it’s when I thought of him that I had a strong will to find him, and nothing I did could distract me from that desire. I couldn’t concentrate any longer.

I closed the book in front of me, giving up on the book report that was due in two days and glanced out the library windows into the hallway. I hadn’t noticed that the main office entrance was wide open until I saw a few men in overalls taking out boxes and furniture.

I jumped to my feet and took a step forward and realized the boxes and furniture were coming from my grandfather’s office. Suddenly, an uncertain anger and sadness filled me; a feeling I had never felt before overwhelmed me. I raced out of the library towards the door, nearly crashing into the men coming out.

When I entered, Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez were standing at the entrance of the office. Michael certainly had never said a thing about moving anything from my grandfather’s office when we had arrived earlier in the morning. Had they not realized it was important to me? Had they not realized it was something worth mentioning? But why was this uncertain rage in me now? This, I couldn’t explain as I stood there glaring into the main office towards the open office door of a man I had never truly known.

When Mrs. Wallace saw me, she blinked nervously and questioningly back at me as though she hadn’t expected to see me. She seemed like a nice person, I often wondered if she considered me one of her grandchildren.

"Oh, my dear, how are you?" She asked as I stepped up to her desk, looking towards my grandfather’s office.

"I'm fine,” I firmly whispered. I thought she hadn't heard me when she gazed up at me and then back at the commotion from behind as the movers brought out several boxes that had been in my grandfather's office. They set the boxes outside onto a dolly, and another mover hauled the boxes slowly out of the main office entrance and away from my eyes before I could see what they were.

Mrs. Wallace saw my eyes dance over to the office; I hadn't wanted her to see that. I was noticing them moving things out. How could I not? It was clearly happening right in front of me.

"What can I help you with?" She politely asked, slightly embarrassed with what was happening behind her. She could see the uneasiness on my face, the reluctance to ask what was happening. He had just about been gone a week; yet here they were, removing decades of memories from his office.

"What's going on?" I asked, moving forward. She made a motion to rise, but I stopped before she could.

"My dear, they're clearing a few things out of the office for the new principal," she softly answered; it became a whisper when she saw the look of shock on my face.

He was my only connection to a life I had never known. Now, as late as it was, I wanted to know everything about him and they were taking that away from me by packing his things into boxes and sending them off.

"New principal?" I asked, glaring towards the open office door. I could see the backs of Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez from where I stood.

"Yes," she softly answered, looking after me with the care of a mother hen.

I saw them pull out the bookshelves, pack my grandfather's books into a box, and gather his pictures into another near the entrance.

"Those are my grandfather's things; those are his books. What are they doing to them? Where are they taking them? You’re not tossing his things away, are you?" I yelled, feeling my face burning as unexplainable rage gathered inside me like I was on fire. I noticed the pens and pencils on her desk begin to move; the desk itself slightly rattled. A few pens and pencils managed to hit the floor before I could stop it.

Mrs. Wallace put her hand over the top of her desk, unsure of what she had seen, but she seemed more embarrassed with it than surprised it was happening at all.

"Of course, we would never do that. We just need to clear out his office for the new principal. You'll get those things back,” she tenderly said, reaching a hand out to me, but I was moving away towards the entrance of the office to have a closer look. My blood was boiling as they picked through his things and piled the items inside the boxes like old junk. Mrs. Wallace came up behind me, trying to dart in front of me, but I was quicker than her, and I felt guilty for pulling away from her when she moved towards me.

When I walked in, Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez suddenly turned and saw me standing at the entrance. They smiled at first in greeting until they realized that I was upset. I came to the side of the office where the boxes sat and picked up a picture from inside one of them. It was a picture of me. My grandfather had framed an old photograph of me a week before the accident.

I had no idea where he had gotten it, but it was the fact that he had taken the time to frame it and put it in his office that meant so much. He did it even after how I had behaved with him. I felt horrible that I treated him so badly when all he ever wanted was to get to know me. Now, he was gone forever.

Perhaps it was my own guilt that had exploded in me, but I had never felt so full of rage that I had trouble controlling my emotions. Above, the lights flickered repeatedly like they were going to go out. The desk was still rattling, and poor Mrs. Wallace was trying to keep it steady. She seemed to be doing a good job because others walked past without noticing.

"Claudia?" Mr. Claypool called over to me, curiously looking up at the lights, but I didn't answer, nor did I look back.

"Why wasn’t I told?” I asked, now facing Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez. Perhaps he hadn’t meant anything before. A switch had gone off, and now it was all I could think of; he was the connection in some form, my history, and the one that was to complete the mystery of me.

"Claudia, my dear, we didn’t want to upset you," Mr. Claypool tried to say as he walked slowly towards me.

“Upset me!” I yelled, and some of the lights blinked out; one or two others flickered. Mr. Vasquez started pointing up, but Mr. Claypool wasn’t listening. The desk in the office started rattling as Mrs. Wallace’s had done and was still doing outside the office. She was now sitting on top of it, looking slightly ridiculous.

“Mr. Claypool!” I could hear her calling him from outside the office, but he was dismissing her, trying to calm me.

"Claudia," Mr. Claypool said, grabbing hold of my shoulder. He looked up at the lights above us, the desk to our right, and then over at me. Did he know? Did he know it was all my doing, the lights, and the desk shaking? I couldn’t control it, and it worried me, but somehow, I was also relieved.

“We just didn’t want to upset you. I’m sorry we didn’t say anything,” he again said and then released me. I took a deep breath, and almost immediately the lights above stopped flickering and the desk stopped moving. I moved back, picking up a framed picture of my grandfather in the nearest box.

“I wish I had known him,” I simply said. “I wish we had more time.”

Mr. Claypool nodded. I could sense he understood the guilt that had gathered within me. But I could also sense he didn’t want me to blame myself for it. But who was to blame if not me? I glanced back at them before I moved to leave, but I didn’t get far, only to find Michael and a stranger blocking my path to the office door.

8

John Slater

Later that day…

The rental Bryce had secured for me was a furnished, one-floor, two-bedroom house in the River Oaks area, just a short drive from downtown Houston and the infamous Montrose area, a hip and popular area filled with culture and mischief; too much mischief was a bad place for me to be.

After leaving Milton, I headed back to run some errands; I guess that’s what you called them. Bryce said I should act normal, like a single man that works in a school as a principal. I wondered exactly how to do that. He gave me a list of activities normal people do during their time on any given day. I followed it because I had no idea what else to do.

And I had to act the part, and when I meant act the part, I meant taking my own clothes down to the Laundromat to wash them. Who the fuck does that?

I certainly didn’t, never had to. I never had the need to. I always had a maid and dropped off any cleaning at a private business that handled those affairs for me.

I ruined a few good shirts the first time around, mixing the colors in with my neat dress shirts, and I had to buy all new shirts. My pants were dry cleaning only, but I didn’t understand the difference between washing them in cold water until it was too late.

I was also told I had to get my own groceries, another task better left for the maid I hired. It was strange to walk into the store, watching how normal people performed these tasks. Here was John Slater walking into the store, wearing a long, blue dress shirt and dark slacks. I had the sleeves of the shirt rolled up just a tiny bit because I didn’t want to get stared at because of the tattoos that flashed up and down my arms, especially the cross bones emblem of the ADA and the number of kills I had acquired marking the side of the skull’s head.

That’s always a conversation starter, especially for the hunted, if we have time. I couldn’t help but brag. The skillful acrobat and fire starter didn’t find it impressive, even after a quick injection to secure them, and they dropped. It was clear to see in their eyes they knew they would soon be part of the tattoo. With every successful hunt, it grew.

I wandered the aisles picking up things I might like. Coffee. Nothing like a good cup of Joe in the morning, correct? What kind did I like? I wasn’t even sure. I grabbed anything but Folgers; what the hell was French roast? My coffee usually already came in the mug with little or no sugar. I’d never had to make my own coffee; did I need instant or ground roast? Heck, did I even own a coffee maker?

I guess I needed bread and lots of fruit, especially mangoes, oranges, and bananas. I got some tomatoes and lettuce in case I needed to make a sandwich. In that case, I also needed cheese and mayo, perhaps even slices of turkey and ham. I wandered for a while in the store like a lost puppy and tried my best to appear casual. I didn’t know where any of these items were. I had never shopped before. I found the milk and eggs close to where the slices of turkey and cheese were. I reached for a carton of eggs, and a woman’s hand touched mine.

“Oh, excuse me,” she politely said.

“No, go ahead. After you,” I graciously said. She blushed, and I grinned.

“Well, thank you.” She took the carton and moved over to her shopping cart; she smiled, and her eyes wouldn’t leave mine. She was a brunette with shoulder length hair, a pretty housewife type.

I grabbed another carton of eggs and moved on to the cereal, but our eyes met a few more times, and we met again in the next aisle while looking for the cereal.

She wanted me to ask her something; it’s as if they sensed it. Slater was a flirt. Slater was a lady’s man. She was next to me at the checkout line, and our eyes met again briefly. I had to stop this game. But it wasn’t my fault; it was the game. It wanted me, and it always found me, no matter what.

I could see her reflection through the cooler in front of me, and it seemed she wanted to come up to me. But she hesitated instead, putting her groceries onto the checkout belt.

After paying for my groceries, I turned, dead set on inviting her back to my place so we could fuck of course; there was no doubt she was already mine. She looked over at me while she paid for her groceries and suddenly, my phone rang.

“No social activity whatsoever,” the voice at the other end said. “You breathe and live Milton High now, John. Walk out of the store, put your groceries in the car, and go home. You have work tomorrow,” The Man in White’s voice softly said, and then the line went dead.

Dammit!

I hissed and walked out of the door, rolling the cart out towards my car. I put the groceries into the car and jumped into the baby blue Shelby Mustang before I changed my mind. The mom, I assumed, came out with her head looking each way. She was looking for me, and I gritted my teeth as I sped away.

By the time I got home, it was just after seven in the evening, and the laundry and the groceries were done. What else was there to do? I had done my part as a normal individual.

After putting the groceries away, I settled down on the couch with a glass of red wine; it was a reward. I could have a single cup, couldn’t I? The phone hadn’t rung to tell me otherwise, at least not yet. So I drank deep, and the red wine was rich; it never betrayed me, never abandoned me. I always enjoyed it, and I never got lost in the intoxication. I always knew where I was despite being aroused by the flavor.

I enjoyed it so much that I emptied the bottle before midnight. My favorite was Concannon, a brand I had picked up just by accident. I had other favorites; it was one of many, but it was the one I usually chose on quiet evenings. And this evening, it was intoxicating as I felt it kiss my lips, and its smooth texture rolled down my throat.

I was at peace at least for that moment.

9

Being Dr. John Black

It was bright and early when I arrived; the sunlight wasn’t even out yet when I turned off the car and opened the laptop. I sat in my car for a few minutes, staring at the cursor on the screen: no words, no messages, and no file from Bryce. In front of me sat the school; the building looked deserted. The yellow buses were lined up all along the side of the building getting ready to leave the parking lot and make their routes.

I couldn’t even remember my first day of school because I had never gone to a normal school. I recalled the academy: men in suits and sometimes men in training uniforms, and my gym teacher, Master Chung who trained me in Chun Kuk Do, Jeet Kune Do, Jiu-Jitsu, and many other forms of martial arts. My school studies consisted of a variety of languages. I was fluent in several, Spanish being my favorite. My upbringing was anything but normal; I had teachers that trained me in disassembling and assembling weapons, and I was taught what chemicals, when mixed, would go boom. I could go on, but the only thing on my mind was getting the file that had failed to appear on my laptop.

So, there I sat until it was time to go in and pretend to be someone else. I had to become the respected principal that Bryce had scolded me to become. The whorehouses and social activity of any kind were out of the picture. I couldn’t even go to a nightclub if I wanted to pick up a girl of my choice. I had to be a good boy for now.

Closing the laptop, I lifted it and opened the car door. I felt my shoes on the parking lot gravel. Had they not even the funds to pave the parking lot? I walked up to the building and looked up at the entrance before I entered. It was just half-past six in the morning.

“So, here we go,” I whispered underneath my breath as I took a step forward up the steps in front of me. Behind me, the school buses were now moving, all leaving the side of the building as I entered the metal doorway.

The day had just begun; it was quiet, and the empty halls were dark, dreadful, and depressing, not to mention in desperate need of repairs in some places. The paint looked worn out in some areas. If these walls could talk, I feared what they would say. I hoped to find the location of my intended target quickly so I could get the fuck out of here. Some of the lights flickered and others barely held on or were completely out. I immediately realized and understood Michael’s confused and curious expression when first meeting me. I certainly didn’t belong here, not among all this chaos.

At the entrance, there was a stairwell to my left, and as I continued, I noticed the side door of the cafeteria; the doors were wide open, and inside I could see long colorful folded cafeteria tables. Some were already set down and ready for today’s lunch periods. The cafeteria wasn’t too large, and to the very back I could see the entrance to the lunch line that led to the other end where the students, I assumed, paid for their meals at the register.

It might seem that I knew what I was looking at; well, it did help to have the maps of the school at hand. It was required so I knew where I was going, but I had to give the impression that perhaps I didn’t know too well.

The ideal thing to do was to enter through the front of the school, even though it made sense to enter through the side door since that’s where the parking lot was located and where I had come through. Who really entered through the front?

As I walked on, I saw Coke machines to my left. And I thought they had done away with all the sugary beverages, nothing like teenagers and sugar for a mixture of chaos.

The sudden sounds of a bell startled me, and I felt foolish for suddenly looking up, ready to strike someone. I composed myself and hurried forward; the hall was long and it seemed to have no end. I passed a few offices to my left and right. J. Claypool and R. Vasquez, Assistant Principals, the doors read. I had passed these on my last visit, and like before, paid them no attention. I had no intention of stepping in to say hello, no intention of making friends.

I passed the buffalo by the entrance and the trophy shelves that had greeted me on my first visit. To my right, there was a library and I had finally reached the desired office doorway, and taking a breath, I reached for the doorknob. It was time to play my role and to do my best.

I could already taste the rewards, the success it would bring me afterwards. I can’t say why, but I suddenly had a nervous feeling, and I turned towards the glass walls of the library that sat behind me. As I slowly moved, I almost felt a sickening feeling, like I was being watched or perhaps being summoned. I couldn’t explain it. I finally gazed at the glass into the library with its many shelves and books sitting on them. There was a quiet peace in me.

A girl sat at a table in the library, and I could see the long strands of brown hair falling from her shoulder and her slender fingers were gripping the book. I could see her slim, bronzed arms resting on the table. Her head barely came poking out from the top of the large book, making me desperate. The words my girl keep finding their way into my mind, along with the phase nameless face.

Was that her? Was she real, or was someone playing an ugly game with me?

I stared until the door from the other end of the office opened, and I spun my head around to find Michael standing in the doorway; he had been waiting for me in Dr. Edwards’ office. I looked back, but the image I thought I had seen was now gone. The book was there sitting on the table, but she, if she had been real, was now gone. My heart was rapidly beating and I tried to regain control of my emotions. I was desperate and excited, and I could hardly contain myself, but I had to because it was show time. I was Dr. John Black, and it was time to prove it.

“I thought you had changed your mind,” Michael jokingly said as he allowed me to pass him.

He looked nervous and he was surprised by my confidence as I quickly tried to regain it. But, of course, I had confidence. I didn’t fear anything, especially not him. My normal jobs consisted of exotic places, strange characters, traveling to beautiful locations, and avoiding getting killed. And I liked every minute of it, and at the end of the day, I curled up with a glass of red wine and a million more in the bank, and if I so chose, an attractive lady by my side for that evening.

We entered the office interior, and he led me into the office entrance. Inside, I found myself in the company of Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez. I already felt like I knew them. There was a pile of boxes; the shelves were now empty, and I could see Michael had successfully cleared out most of the items. The desk, which was facing the office entrance, was cleaned and had been polished nicely. The only thing left to do was clear out the boxes that had been stacked near the entrance against the walls.

“Dr. John Black, please let me introduce you to a few members of my staff,” Michael politely said as we walked in.

“This is Mr. James Claypool, he’s our underclassmen assistant principal.” Mr. Claypool smiled as I reached over to shake his hand. He looked surprised, and I couldn’t tell if it was my appearance that made him blush or my stature and strong handshake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. We’re delighted to have you join us,” he said, looking a little nervous, very much so like Michael. Mr. Claypool had on a pale blue suit, and his tie had ugly blue stripes. He was balding on the top of his head, and the color of his hair reminded me of The Man in White. He was so pale that even the little hair on his head was not quite visible. His eyes were a clear blue, as pale as those of The Man in White, and although they resembled a little in appearance, Bryce was a much better dresser with a full head of blond hair.

Mr. Claypool, for some strange reason, reminded me a bit of the actor, Ed Harris. I wondered if he had ever been told that. Other than his appearance being slightly off, he seemed to be a very nice, polite and humble man. It wasn’t something I was used to.

There was also the tall fellow who seemed lanky standing alongside Mr. Claypool. He looked Hispanic from what I could tell, with white features, light curls of hair on his head, a thick mustache, and large hazel eyes. He wore a mossy colored suit with a black tie. The men were equally tall to me; even Michael seemed quite tall despite his slouching. I wasn’t sure if it was simply age that was making him do so, or if he didn’t know good posture. Of course, when I was around, it seemed he tried hard to stand up straight, and strange enough, I felt that they were all trying to please Dr. John Black. This didn’t surprise me.

“And this is Mr. Richard Vasquez. He’s in charge of the upperclassmen.” The man smiled and his lip disappeared behind that thick mustache when he did. I didn’t want to laugh, but he looked silly, more of a clown than a man.

“Welcome to Milton High, sir,” he simply said. A bell rang somewhere in the distance, and I tried as hard as I could not to let it startle me as it had before.

As the sound of the bell faded, Michael said, “The movers should be here shortly, and then we’ll have all these things cleared out by the time you get settled. While we wait, I thought that perhaps we could take that tour I promised you, and you can meet some of the teachers.”

Perhaps Michael had noticed the look on my face as my eyes had wandered around the room looking at the mess in the office. And perhaps he wondered why it hadn’t been ready for me.

He once again looked nervous. This was too easy. These people feared me way too easily.

“Sounds like a great idea, Michael. Please lead the way. Gentlemen,” I said to the two men standing around like two shy teenage boys looking on at the adults.

I walked into the interior and noticed Michael speaking with Mr. Claypool. I overheard him saying, “I need you and Mr. Vasquez here when the movers come. Make sure they know to take the items we’ve discussed back to Neil’s house. And for God’s sake, make sure Claudia doesn’t see you guys.”

Then he stepped out of the office as I patiently waited for him.

“Sir, you’re welcome to leave your briefcase in the office,” Michael offered. “Mrs. Wallace can keep it for you behind her desk. It should be fine there,” Michael added.

I pressed a locking switch that not even the best of us could open. And if they did somehow manage to get it open, it would immediately wipe the files and destroy any evidence.

“Mrs. Wallace,” Michael said as the woman with the cotton hair appeared from the other end of the office; she walked from around the pigeonholes, poking her head out and looking at us from behind her large glasses.

I hadn’t noticed her when we had first come in. Was she that stealthy?

“This is Mrs. Alice Wallace, my secretary,” Michael offered as the woman reached to take my hand. I immediately put the briefcase on the desk and grabbed hold of her arm in the same manner.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced the last time, Mrs. Wallace. I’m Dr. John Black. It’s a pleasure.”

She blushed as I kindly smirked; the half-smile went up; the John Slater smile.

“Mrs. Wallace, can you keep this safe for Dr. Black while we’re out? I don’t want it to get mistaken for an item from Dr. Edwards’ office,” Michael said as I slowly released her hand and arm.

She seemed to snap back into place when Michael glared over at her, and she blinked, merely nodding like a bobble head doll. She then took the briefcase and put it in one of the long, bottom drawers of her desk. It fit perfectly.

“Thank you, Alice,” I politely said, and she almost lost it, clumsily tipping over a container holding a group of pencils that scattered and rolled off the side of her desk. By then, Michael and I were by the door. Michael was opening the door, and I was entering the hallway when I caught him looking back at her. He seemed to be rolling his eyes.

I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen anything, looking straight into the library windows. I found it quite empty as Michael came into the hallway with me. As he stood behind me, I turned, desperate to find the bronzed and slender hands of the girl that had held the book when I first came to Milton, and then the thought entered my mind.

“I think it would be proper if I introduced myself to Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter. Wouldn’t you agree, Michael?”

He suddenly gazed up at me, perhaps surprised at the request or impressed by my concern. I wanted to get to know her. Curiosity had stalked me, had made me desperate to find out why Bryce had failed to follow procedure. This was his project, not mine. You’d think he would want me to have all the necessary information.

Michael immediately nodded; his pause had been brief and I sensed an uncomfortable uneasiness between the two of us.

“She should be in class,” he offered. “We can head in that direction now if you’d like? She should be in English, in Ms. Wilkerson’s class. She’s covering for me,” Michael politely said.

“Lead the way, Michael. I’m at your mercy here.” I foolishly smirked; of course I wasn’t at his mercy. I knew the place inside and out, but I couldn’t let that out. I was the newbie.

We turned the corner, moving past the library which I couldn’t stop looking into. Michael must have noticed this and simply said, “That’s our library. I know what you’re thinking. Yes, it’s quite small, but don’t let it fool you. We have an impressive selection.”

“Is your librarian Spanish?”

I can’t believe I asked that. It was so stupid, and I only said it because I was still trying to figure out whether I had seen the girl or woman with bronzed slender hands in there in the first place.

Perhaps it had been the librarian. Only when it was silent and Michael mumbled incoherently back did I realize I was thinking with my other brain. What had I said out loud?

“Sir?” He asked, not sure he had heard what I said correctly.

“I apologize. I thought I saw a Spanish woman in the library and believed she might have been the librarian.”

There was a pause. God, had I just blown it?

“Oh, no that would be Mrs. Wilson. She’s not Spanish,” Michael simply said as we continued down the hallway and then took the stairwell up to the second floor near the entrance to the courtyard. I could see the ROTC students getting in line and the tennis team practicing in the distance.

“I guess I must have been mistaken,” I tried to say, trying to get off of the subject.

“You seem to have an impressive ROTC group and tennis team,” I said. These types of things seemed to go down well with Michael. He was the kind of person that appreciated these comments.

“Dr. Edwards donated the funds for the tennis courts, sir. And he bought all new uniforms for the ROTC classes and new instruments for our school band. He even donated money to help students get school supplies,” he said, smiling sadly as we came to the second floor. Yes, all impressive, I thought, looking deeply interested while following alongside him. Eventually, we arrived at a classroom.

“Well, here we are, sir,” he peeked through the window of the door and then opened the door as the teacher came to the front of the entrance; she smiled immediately as her eyes caught sight of me. She seemed to be a weak little girl, lowering her gaze. It was a sign of submissiveness, and she was a brunette, but not Spanish or petite.

“Sorry to interrupt your class, Ms. Wilkerson, but I’m looking for Claudia. May I have a word with her?”

Her eyes seemed to glare at Michael, probably wondering why he hadn’t introduced us yet.

“Oh, please forgive me. This is our new principal, Dr. John Black,” Michael immediately said. Her eyes had finally succeeded in giving him the right signals. She reached out to take my hand, and I put it over her trembling fingers.

“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Wilkerson,” I simply said before she could speak.

“Ms. Wilkerson. I’m not married,” she offered. She then bit her lip like a shy little schoolgirl. Michael seemed to be a bit disgusted by the display.

“Ms. Wilkerson,” Michael impatiently had to say. She blinked and looked back at him like he had just walked up to her.

“Claudia, Ms. Wilkerson. May I have a word with her?” Michael impatiently asked while trying to look into the classroom.

“Oh?” She said, staring back at him dumbfounded and then over at me. Her eyes dropped shyly as she smiled, blushing so obviously. She looked as red as the sweater she was wearing.

“She’s not here,” she whispered. She was very soft-spoken. Maybe it was because of me.

“What do you mean?” Michael seemed to be losing his patience with her. “I told her to wait in your classroom until class started.”

“I let her go to the library to catch up on some make-up work,” she simply said as Michael moved away from the doorway.

“I see. Very well,” he merely said. Ms. Wilkerson didn’t move even after I waved with a slight smile on my face, and I followed Michael back down the hallway as she looked after us, never leaving the entrance of her classroom.

“I must apologize, Dr. Black. I wasn’t aware she was not going to be in class. She’s missed a few days because of the funeral so she has a lot of makeup work,” Michael said as we continued down the hallway and down the stairwell once again.

“No need. I’m impressed she’s taken it upon herself to make up her homework,” I said; she was becoming quite the interesting faceless person, Claudia Belle. I imagined a simple teenage girl with bright blue eyes like Dr. Edwards’ and golden brown locks, maybe the cheerleader type. Probably interested in makeup and hanging out with the popular kids. The fact that Michael thought she was a perfect little girl was an image that would soon change once she discovered how easily she could boss him around. Michael was a bit of a pushover. Perhaps she already knew that and had used the excuse of catching up on homework to get out of class.

“Oh, she’s wonderful. She’s a very sweet girl, takes her studies seriously. You’ll love her.”

We came to the first floor and passed the library, and then we were at the main office once again. It appeared the movers had already arrived when we came around the corner. The library seemed to be empty as it had been before we had gone to the second floor. Michael looked into the library. “Doesn’t look like she’s in there,” he said.

So, she was a troublemaker. Poor Michael. It was just the beginning for him.

“Perhaps we should see about the movers. I’m sure she’ll turn up,” I suggested.

Michael looked worried and embarrassed by not fulfilling my request.

“Yes, maybe Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez have seen her.”

The door to the main office was wide open as we entered, and Mrs. Wallace immediately came towards Michael, whispering something about she’s in the office and I couldn’t stop her. I only caught a few words of their discussion. Mrs. Wallace moved away towards her desk, and the phone rang.

“Claudia!” Michael’s voice called out as he rushed forward towards the office doorway. I was anxious to see the face of the faceless girl.

I followed behind Michael as he stepped into the entrance and I came from behind him into the office. I must say, I was not prepared for what awaited me in the office’s interior entrance.

A pair of lovely dark brown eyes greeted me from the bronzed skin of a petite beauty with waist-long, flowing brown hair. This was Claudia Belle? She stared back at me from the entrance of the doorway, and I could do nothing but stare at her like a dumbstruck fool.

She was a student here? At the very place I was sent to infiltrate as a head principal?

I trembled, as my lip quivered, speechless for a mere moment as I gazed at her momentarily. But I honestly didn’t understand why. Perhaps it was the idea of her. Either way, I didn’t know what peculiar uneasiness she stirred in me. I couldn’t begin to understand it. Perhaps it was the very reason I was taken by surprise, but was it that mere idea that stirred such restlessness inside me within those few seconds or rather something else I couldn’t quite yet pinpoint?

And suddenly, it all made sense: Bryce’s disregard for procedure. This is why he had failed to send me the file. Her obvious appearance, John Slater’s apparent obsession for all the pieces of a peculiar puzzle the boss had seen way ahead of me.

Did he possibly think her appearance would disrupt my assignment or in some way come between what I had come to do?

And yet, why had I cowered at her feet at the first sight of her?

“Claudia?” Michael said to her; she lowered her eyes when she found me looking over at her. She was submissive, and I smiled in response.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in class?” Michael asked.

“It’s alright, Michael,” I softly interrupted him, staring hypnotically down at her.

“At long last, the famous Claudia Belle. Finally, we meet,” I said. I couldn’t help myself.

She blinked up at me; it was obvious that she could read minds. A minder, my lips hissed. Alas, the young lady could read minds, and she was trying to read mine!

She looked angry.

“We’ve been looking for you, young lady,” I dared to say, never taking my eyes off her. Her eyes seemed to ask many questions. Who was this man dressed in that dark blue suit and a striped blue tie? What did he want, and why did he stare so deep into my eyes?

But I knew nothing of what her thoughts really said.

Although the mixture of uneasy sounds coming from my mind wouldn’t stop her attempts to read my thoughts, the device used to distort them most certainly would.

I curved a lip at her. She seemed to panic, avoiding my eyes briefly. But again, when she dared to meet my eyes, I smiled at her.

"Are you the new principal?" She asked. She mocked me, clutching a photograph tightly in her embrace. She seemed flustered and upset. Had she made up her mind about me?

"My name is Dr. John Black. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Belle. I’ve heard so much about you," I said, being as charming as I could possibly be. Despite what it had done to so many others, it didn’t do the slightest to impress her.

I extended my arm out to shake her fragile hand, but she didn’t take it. She appeared defiant and withdrawn. I drew back my hand. As she looked at me resentfully and spitefully, she awkwardly withdrew. Her lips quivered as she bit down at the bottom of her mouth; she was holding something back. She looked like she would speak but couldn’t find the words to say to me.

I wanted to say something to her, but I felt speechless myself. No one had ever done this to me, not to John Slater. No one had ever caught him off guard, left him wondering what would be appropriate to say to another without sounding arrogant, especially to someone much younger than him. I had never had trouble before, but for some reason, I was struggling now. John Slater always had an answer and was always in control, especially with women.

I thought of apologizing about her family, basically her loss. Surely she would see I was one not to be judged so quickly.

"I'm sorry about your grandfather, Miss Belle. I really admired Dr. Edwards,” I politely offered; my smile was now replaced with an expression of serenity and warmth, one I was sure she would appreciate.

“He was a highly-respected man and very devoted to his work. No one will ever be able to replace him," I added. “And I assure you, Miss Belle, that I’m not here to do so. I just hope that you are aware of that,” I was being sincere and very honest. I wouldn’t lie, not to her. She seemed to deserve honesty and a friend after what she’d gone through, first with her parents and now with her grandfather.

Above me, the lights started flickering uncontrollably, and the desk slightly began shifting. Mr. Vasquez repositioned himself to conceal the desk from moving so that I wouldn’t notice it, but I had seen it. Who wouldn’t?

It appeared she not only had the ability to read minds but the gift to move objects. What the ADA called telekinesis. Apparently, she was having trouble controlling it. This was usual, most telekinetic people didn’t have much control.

We all looked up briefly. I avoided asking the obvious. “It’s a constant problem.” Michael grinned. I merely nodded.

Claudia gawked up at me momentarily, completely lost. She looked frightened and slightly embarrassed perhaps fearing that I had seen her gift.

“Now, as I was saying, Miss Belle I hope that you and I can be friends,”

"Friends?” Claudia suddenly said, looking up at me puzzled, but it was the way it came from her precious little mouth that aroused me. The fear in her eyes if I had first seen it, had vanished.

Then, Claudia narrowed her brown eyes up at me and looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Am I supposed to find that flattering, Dr. Black? Because I don’t. I lost my parents and then my grandfather, a man I hardly knew. I have no one, nor do I have the patience for this nonsense, and I sure as hell don’t need someone like you trying to make it seem as if it's alright. Because it’s not okay, and it will never be! I don’t need you to tell me you understand by offering your sympathy. I don’t need it!” She snapped.

“Claudia!” Michael yelled.

She blinked, realizing what she had just said to me. I was a big boy, I had worse tongue-lashings before. In fact, the passion of her anger was better than nothing. Then, just like that she ran out of the office right past me. It made me wonder whether or not she was embarrassed about what she had said to me. It didn’t bother me; although, I couldn’t understand why I had angered her. Had she found my words too phony? I was being nothing but honest. Wasn’t I?

The lights resumed flickering then popped out one by one leaving scattered glass and smoke throughout the office. Michael called after Claudia as we heard the main office door slam at her exit.

Mrs. Wallace came to stand at the entrance of the doorway behind us. The desk stopped moving just as the remaining lights went out. Mr. Vasquez immediately rose from the desk and smiled at me like someone trying to hide what had just happened. But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. This was a typical evening for me: chasing after the telekinesis or psychokinesis, fire starters, and shape changers.

Then, something strange occurred to me within those few moments as I thought of what to say about what had just taken place, of this interesting discovery. There was a struggle in me I’d never found before. Bryce must have known, but why hadn’t he told me?

“It’s a constant problem with the lights,” Mr. Vasquez tried to convince me.

“Yes, Dr. Black is aware of budget problems, Mr. Vasquez,” Michael nervously interrupted, glaring at Mr. Vasquez. But who did they think they were fooling? Normal people?

“I’m sorry, but she’s gone through a lot. First her parents and now her grandfather,” Michael tried to explain, which wasn’t necessary.

“Of course, it’s quite understandable,” I answered; the voice inside my head kept bringing Bryce’s name into my thoughts. He didn’t like loose details.

"She's really a nice girl," Mr. Vasquez volunteered to me.

“I can vouch for that,” Mr. Claypool added.

I simply nodded. “I know she is.” Of course she was; it was I who had the nerve to speak to her like I understood her pain. I had been cocky because John Slater always tried to be charming. And I had done it again without considering her feelings. She wasn’t just any woman that could be charmed by John Slater’s words or smile. She was a young lady who needed a friend that understood her pain, not some insensitive jerk like me.

“Should I go and get her, Mr. McClellan?” Mrs. Wallace asked from the doorway. Michael turned to her and shook his head.

I spun around, looking straight at the men and Michael and Mrs. Wallace who were standing by the entrance of the office and staring back inside. My eyes seemed to summon them and have them under my will.

“When the two of you get a chance, please bring Claudia over to my office. I’d like to speak with her,” I said, directing my attention to the two assistant principals.

“But sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Michael suggested as Mrs. Wallace walked back to her desk. Of course, the guardian would say that.

“No? Perhaps you’re right Michael.”

Although I didn’t agree. If he got in my way, I wouldn’t be so very nice. John Slater always got his way.

“But how am I supposed to apologize?” I added. The movers, after all, were moving these things for me, to make room for the new principal. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be so upset.

“Apologize?” Michael asked as he glanced over at me.

“Of course,” I answered. “I didn’t mean to upset the poor girl.”

10

Claudia Belle

It wasn't long before I was sitting in Mr. Claypool’s office with Mr. Vasquez and Michael. I had already made a fool of myself with the new principal, and now I had everyone else worried about me. I felt stupid and embarrassed for having them standing over me, worried sick. Michael was there because he was my guardian, and Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez were there because they said they were worried just the same. I figured they felt devoted to my grandfather, so on some strange level, they felt like I was their child. It felt good to be important and cared for.

"I'm sorry," I softly said, unable to look up. “I don’t know what came over me. That’s never happened before. I’m usually very good about controlling my emotions. But today, I can’t understand it. It was like a feeling I’ve never felt before. It was so….”

I didn’t want to say it, the pure rage I’d felt inside me. What would they think of me? I was an uncontrollable girl with a gift I couldn’t restrain. No one wanted a girl like that wandering the school hallways.

“Well, you must learn how to better control your emotions, Claudia. It’s important,” Michael said. “We’re running out of light bulbs,” he joked.

“Not to mention excuses,” Mr. Vasquez said out loud.

“But in all seriousness, try not to let people such as Dr. Black upset you,” Michael said. So they were no strangers to what I could do. They knew the lights weren’t going out because of bad circuiting.

“How is it that you know what I can do?” I made myself ask.

“Your grandfather could do the same things you do. There was never a time that something like that didn’t happen to him. Lights were always flickering, pipes exploding, and even sudden thunderstorms. Unusual things happened all the time, but he could control them. And you must too,” Michael said.

Michael was right; people usually didn’t react well to things like popping light fixtures and creaking buildings, especially if it was the will of a girl like me making these things happen.

“Dr. Black saw it happen?” I asked worried, realizing the lights had shattered when I’d stormed out.

“As far as he knows, it was nothing but the failing light bulbs Milton is popular for,” Mr. Claypool admitted as he sat at his desk and glanced at me from the other end. Michael sat near the entrance of the office to my right and Mr. Vasquez to my left.

“I can’t believe I said those things. I didn’t mean any of it,” I said. I was lying a little bit.

"He understands what you're going through. In fact, he wants to apologize to you,” Michael admitted.

"Apologize to me?" I asked, a bit surprised after what I had said to him. I felt even worse now. In fact, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Yes, but I told him it was best for another time."

I didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. Sure, I had avoided another confrontation with Dr. Black, but that only meant he would find me another day to have the conversation I longed to put aside.

“I’m sorry,” I again whispered.

“I’m not worried about Dr. Black. He’ll recover. I’m sure it’s not the first time he’s been put in his place,” Michael laughed; it seemed he was recalling the expression on Dr. Black’s face.

“Or the last,” Mr. Claypool added, resembling the actor Ed Harris more each time I looked at him. Clumsily, Mr. Vasquez agreed with them both.

“He seems pretty young,” Mr. Claypool simply said. “What do you think, Michael? He looks at least thirty-two?”

“Thirty-three,” Michael said, and Mr. Claypool nodded.

“A far younger principal than I’m accustomed to,” Mr. Vasquez simply said.

He was usually the quieter of the two, sitting beside me, smiling behind his thick brown mustache. He usually seemed goofy and out of place, but today he seemed mature and wiser than I had ever seen him.

"But I am worried about you, Claudia," Michael kindly admitted.

"Maybe it would be a good idea to send you home for the rest of the day," Michael said, and Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez both nodded in agreement.

"I'm alright. I just got upset, that's all. Please don't send me home,” I pleaded with them. "I promise I'm okay. I just overreacted," I tried to convince them. "I guess I wasn't ready, but I’m fine now."

"It's understandable, but I feel I also have to apologize," Michael added as I gazed up at him in question.

"Apologize for what?" I curiously asked, finding his tired face.

"For not letting you know what was going on,” he admitted.

"It's okay,” I mumbled.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked. He seemed genuinely worried as he leaned forward on his chair and glanced at me. Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez did the same. I felt like I had three fathers, and it felt good to be the center of attention again.

"I can take you home," Michael said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Really, I'm fine," I answered, smiling up at him.

“Alright then,” he said. I got up to leave, and as I opened the door, I heard his voice once more.

“Try not to embarrass any other principals, please.”

He smirked, and I nodded with a grin.

I left the office, unsure of why I felt such a sudden loneliness then. Perhaps it was in part because I had lost the only other person that could understand me. And now, I had no one really to share in this confusion that was eating away at me. My concerns over being unable to control my emotions were really bothering me. I was scared to do something dangerous. And that wasn’t far from the truth. I knew I could have lost control, and strangely enough, I felt that I’d wanted to.

How long would it be until I didn’t care anymore? Where was this coming from? The growing hunger that I couldn’t quench and the emotions that erupted unpredictably and uncontrollably, I didn’t have the answers for these things. Then, it was all clear as his face came into my thoughts, and I thought I would lose control again. The more I thought of him, the more I became confused, as if I had no sense of what I was doing. I tried to regain control, but it was so hard.

I wanted to disappear and have people leave me alone. But instead, I got warm words from teachers and even students who didn't know what to say but said it nevertheless in their own special ways. My locker was filled inside and out with letters and notes. I tried not to let it annoy me; people were just trying to be nice.

I came into the cafeteria, looking lost and glaring at the nameless faces of other students who eyed me with concern and whispers. And yet, others stared at me with glares of dislike and annoyance. Perhaps I was tolerated for now, I thought. For a few seconds, I didn't see anyone I recognized and I thought of fleeing to the library, but reluctantly, I walked in and got into the lunch line.

At the far end, I spotted Tina and the others sitting in their usual area, so I decided to join them once I got my lunch. They didn't say much about what was obvious. Sure, they had left me notes as teachers and even other students had, and they were sorry for what had happened. But the truth was, I just wanted things to go back to normal. I was tired of everyone else’s sympathy and I was ready to forget everything. At least, I thought I was ready.

They were quiet from the moment I took my seat, and no one said anything, although, I could see that they all wanted to get past it just like I had wanted, but no one knew how to start.

"I heard you let the new principal have it. Serves him right for moving your grandfather's stuff," Alex suddenly said out loud.

I started laughing and they followed, realizing it was safe. I was slightly surprised Alex had said anything at all, anything nice at least. I slowly looked up at them; their smiles rewarded me with concern.

“Sucks about what happened. Sorry,” Alex mumbled in her own cold and Gothic way.

“Thanks,” I whispered as she tried smiling. I guess she didn’t know what else to say. But what could be said? I wasn’t sure myself what people can say to those who have lost loved ones. But it had been nice that she said anything at all. After all, we didn’t have the best introduction.

"Are you alright?" Tina asked for the others. I merely nodded.

"I just want to get past this," I admitted, trying not to get all teary-eyed in front of them.

"Well, we're here for you. If you feel like talking,” Ruben offered. This was comforting to know.

"Thanks," I said. We caught up with school gossip. We talked about Alex's run with Thomas the security guard and the house party the following weekend. And yet, inside I could think of nothing else but him, my handsome rescuer, and the face that kept me awake at night. I watched Alex get up and walk out into the hallway where all of the Coke machines were. And while she disappeared, I couldn’t stop thinking about all that had taken place. Nothing made sense; the day at the pool, the man in the black suit and red tie. Who was he? And why did I tremble at the simple thought of him? Why did he scare me? Was it his robotic nature, his emotionless demeanor, and crude manners that scared me? Who was he?

Or did I already know? And perhaps, that's what I feared, the very fact that I knew them both in some way or another and I just didn’t remember. But without a doubt, it would be revealed. I was sure of this.

"You’re so quiet. You sure you’re okay?" Tina's voice suddenly awakened me. I glanced over at her. I must have appeared distant, perhaps distressed. Nevertheless, I seemed normal for someone who had just lost her grandfather and parents in the same month.

"I'm fine. I just have a lot of things on my mind I guess," I answered.

She smiled and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry. It's going to be alright."

Ruben and Sean robotically looked up, their eyes fixed on me and their lips spread into smiles. Alex had left to get a drink from the Coke machine, and hadn’t returned

"Yes, everything is going to be alright,” Ruben said. Sean nodded, almost like a puppet, both in agreement.

"He’s been looking," Tina said; perhaps I hadn’t been paying attention. I didn’t know who she was talking about.

“Looking? Looking for what?” I asked.

"Why, for you, silly. And now he’s found you. Praise him. He’s found you,” she said.

"Yes, praise him,” Ruben and Sean repeated.

“Who is he?” I whispered.

Tina took a hold of my hands. “When the time comes, he will reveal himself to you. And that time approaches quickly.”

“Tell me. Who is he? I must know.”

Tina only smiled. “He rejoices at your longing for him.” She came closer and whispered into my ear, “But he said, be patient. Be patient my pet.”

I felt my head spinning, and the entire cafeteria seemed to remain still except for the four of us. Closing my eyes, I felt my head throbbing, and then it stopped. The voices in the cafeteria seemed to return louder than before as I opened my eyes and blinked. Tina and the others were talking about the party the following weekend.

"What did you say?” I asked Tina.

“When was that?” She simply asked and continued eating and talking about the house party. I grabbed hold of her when she didn’t look back at me and turned her to me.

“Tell me! I have to know!” I yelled at her. She answered, but what I heard wasn’t her own voice.

“Be patient, my pet…”

It was his voice. I knew it! Sean and Ruben suddenly stared robotically back at me, and I let Tina go. Then all three of them seemed to go back to their conversation as if nothing had happened.

Alex returned and took a seat beside me.

“Hey, want one?” She asked and put the soda on the table for me. I hadn’t even noticed her.

“Sorry about being such a bitch the first time around. And calling you Pocahontas and all, but the hair, you know, and well, I’m sorry. I have issues, but doesn’t everyone, right?” She laughed, taking a drink of her Coke.

“You okay?” She asked, but I didn’t say a word. I glanced over at her as if just noticing her.

“Yeah,” I tried to say.

“So, we’re cool, you and I?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we’re cool. But the Pocahontas thing was really clever.”

She laughed. “Well, it kind of fits you. Now we only have to find your John Smith.”

“Great.”

She smiled. “So, are you going to the party?”

I looked back at her, feeling like my answer had to be yes. But I still couldn’t think straight. I was staring at her dark blue eyes, covered by dark eye shadow and mascara, and I was staring at her youthful face, which was already very beautiful, covered by caked-on white makeup. She twisted the necklace pentagram around her long pale finger; pulling at it, I noticed a tiny crystal sparkling from beneath the lace wrapped around her slender wrist. She nervously tucked it back in, dropping her hand under the table before I could ask about it.

“I like your charm,” I managed to say, but she only referred to the party again.

“So, are you going?”

“Yeah,” I said nodding. “I think I am.” I was still distracted by what had happened before she returned to the table, and now, by her odd if not rude behavior.

“Awesome, you have to let me do your makeup. Red lipstick with dark purple eye shadow would best fit your eyes.”

I glanced over at her perplexed.

“Relax, I promise I’ll keep it natural. It’s hard work looking the way I do, but it’s mine, and I’m not about to share it.” She laughed.

I responded with a smile as she joined the conversation about the upcoming party. I listened intently as they made plans. I was going whether I wanted to or not. Surprisingly, Alex volunteered to pick me up. She was the only other junior with a car in our group. We had started off badly, and I felt it had been her distrust in others that kept us apart. Now, oddly enough she wanted to make up for it.

She didn’t have many friends; her parents were divorced, and she lived with her alcoholic mother who didn’t care much about what she did. Her father, when he did care, only called every other week because he lived out of state and rarely visited as he had a whole new family. Alex rarely answered the phone, knowing he would send her money to make up for his absence. She was easier to be the read than the others, easier because she didn’t care, because she carried her feelings on the outside and retaliated with her own sense of style.

I felt like an idiot examining and looking at the others, trying to see what I had seen in Alex. But for some reason, I couldn’t read them. Only when their eyes suspiciously glared in my direction did my thoughts dart away and around the cafeteria, trying to distance myself from their stares. I could only hear useless sounds. And then, Dr. Black entered the other end of the cafeteria. I ducked my head down on the table.

“Hey looky, looky at who just walked in,” Alex immediately said while pointing out Dr. Black.

“Is that who you chewed out? He’s our new principal? God, he’s hot!” Alex said. “Claudia, you didn’t tell me, he was so attractive.”

“He’s not so special. He looks like trouble if you ask me,” Tina stated my exact thoughts.

“What’s wrong with your eyes? That’s one good looking man,” Alex exclaimed.

I rolled my eyes this time, and she started laughing, noticing my annoyance. The others hardly said a word but seemed annoyed by Alex’s behavior. I had nearly forgotten how they’d acted before.

I looked away, hoping Dr. Black wouldn’t find me. I felt so stupid for avoiding him. Of course he hadn’t come into the cafeteria to find me. Did I really want to believe that he had? But when I kept my head down, it confirmed that I did.

“I can’t believe you told him off,” Alex said as she kept staring over at Dr. Black who walked to the very front of the cafeteria and stood in the same spot as the other assistant principals usually did when they were babysitting the student body. I guess it was his turn to do the honors.

“And there he is, your John Smith,” Alex suddenly said.

“What?” I gasped as she giggled.

“He fits the profile. Just as you do. Claudia, I don’t make the rules. You’re Pocahontas, and he’s John Smith.”

Okay, now I was starting to regret giving her freedom to call me that.

“Well, you’re Spanish, and he’s white. John Smith and Pocahontas.”

“She was a Native American,” I corrected uselessly.

“What’s the difference?” She sarcastically asked. “He’s white, and you’re a nicely bronzed Spanish babe. I bet if I ask him he would agree.” She was getting a real kick out of the whole thing.

“How can you keep staring at him? He’s your principal, and besides, you’re making Claudia uncomfortable,” Tina added.

“How can I not stare at him? Making her uncomfortable? I think she knows what I’m talking about more than anyone here,” Alex answered with a smirk as she playfully elbowed my side.

“He’s a John Smith babe if I’ve ever seen one. And I just found a whole new reason for me to keep coming to school. I wonder if he’s married,” Alex added, as if that would have mattered to her.

The man had to be like twenty years older than her. The whole idea seemed silly to me. What would he want with a silly girl? I’m sure if he wasn’t married he was dating a very attractive woman his own age. I mean, look at him. Oh god, now I was beginning to sound like Alex. I rolled my eyes at her childish behavior.

“I don’t know,” I said, annoyed by Alex’s words and avoiding the center of the cafeteria.

“So, what’s his name?” She asked, smiling over at me.

I glared at her; frustrated by her continuous smile, like we were in on a joke no one else was in on. “Dr. John Black,” I robotically said, recalling his introduction to me back in my grandfather’s office.

“Ah! See what I mean? His name is John. John Smith, John Smith,” she began to tease. “But I like Johnny…Johnny Black. I like that. It has a good ring to it,” Alex exclaimed. “He can be like some kind of superhero or something, no, maybe a super-agent, James Bond perhaps. That’s so sexy!” She jokingly said. “He can call me into his office any day.” She began to giggle, and then Tina and the others frowned at her.

“You’re disgusting,” Tina uttered.

“Excuse me for being sexually active. I guess we know who the virgin here is,” Alex responded, taking out her compact and reapplying her red lipstick. She powdered her face with more white makeup and put the compact away in her black shoulder bag. “I’m only stating the obvious, right Claudia?”

I didn’t say anything, finding the others’ eyes burning a hole in her direction.

“Oh, come on, I’m only kidding you,” she said to me. “You guys need to chill-lax!” She said.

A teacher we knew as Mrs. Whitman came to the center of the cafeteria to introduce herself to Dr. Black. He seemed to be very popular, and as I glanced around the cafeteria, it seemed he had the eyes of every young schoolgirl on him. I knew right away when I had first glanced up at him back in the main office that he wasn’t like any of the rest of the school staff. He really didn’t dress like any of them; although, he did wear a suit and tie like them. There was something very different about his style, not to mention his looks, and this was no offense to Mr. Vasquez or Mr. Claypool, but Dr. Black was very handsome and equally well dressed. He certainly didn’t appear like the teacher or principal type, not for this school at least but maybe for a school in Beverly Hills.

“What does she want?” Alex scolded, regarding Mrs. Whitman. I glanced over and noticed the teacher flirting with Dr. Black.

He was being his charming self as he had been with me back in the main office before I told him where to take his phony speech. He was being utterly polite and professional. It was disgusting, and I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I couldn’t help hating him slightly, but I knew I had no real reason, so it was a lot harder to.

“God, look at her; she has no shame. Does she really think Dr. Black will want an old dog like her?” Alex wickedly asked in reference to Mrs. Whitman. Then she laughed out loud.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, but I didn’t want to get up, fearing Dr. Black would catch sight of me because, at this point, he seemed to be looking around. Perhaps he was trying to avoid Mrs. Whitman just like everyone else did. The woman kept on talking until Dr. Black left her in his own kind way and started walking through the cafeteria as the teacher gazed towards him in the most desperate manner. It was really sad. It was then that I realized he was walking through the cafeteria tables and making his way in our direction.

“I dare you to talk to him. Go get him, Pocahontas,” Alex suddenly said. Tina frowned, and I knew Alex would talk to him if I didn’t. The guys seemed to ignore her with the exception of Sean.

“Why would she want to talk to him after he insulted her?” He asked, glancing over at me.

“Ah, are you jealous, Sean?” Alex smirked.

“What are you talking about?” He exclaimed from the other end of the table.

“I’ve noticed how you look at Claudia. Like we can’t see it. Are you afraid a real man will get her first?”

I blushed and Sean lowered his glasses looking over at me. Perhaps he was hoping to explain what I had wondered myself. But it appeared Sean couldn’t. Could it be true? His eyes met mine in longing. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words, if any, were lost in Tina’s roaring voice.

“Do you ever shut up?” Tina yelled, rising from her seat. “He can’t, and he doesn’t.”

“Oh really? Why can’t he? Because you do? Or maybe you like Claudia.” Alex laughed. “Well, which is it?”

“Alex, stop it! Please,” I said. “I have to go,” I said rushing away but only stopped when I realized I didn’t see Dr. Black. I figured I’d get out before he caught me and before the disagreement behind me grew into something else. I didn’t want to be part of this any longer. I left even though I heard Sean call after me and then Alex’s voice as well.

“Hey! Pocahontas, I’m sorry, please don’t leave. I’m just messing around,” Alex called over to me.

Sean pushed away his tray and rose from his seat. “Nice going you bitch!” He said to Alex. I was shocked at their reaction as I spun around to watch all three get up and leave the table, leaving Alex alone and shocked. I was about to head back to the table when I noticed Alex’s eyes dart past me, and I suddenly knew he was there standing behind me.

11

Dr. John Black

After all the men had left my office and the movers had done their job, the task of getting all my things out and organized faced me. It was such a chore and all I could think of was young Miss Belle. Bryce must have known she’d be a problem. But then why give me the assignment?

I must concentrate.

The thought that she could be the source flitted through my mind, but I didn’t think it was possible. Why had the idea even entered my thoughts? I didn’t even want to consider it. What an odd thing to think for me.

Had I truly said that to her, I hope that we could become friends? The Man in Blue would laugh at that. John Slater had no friends.

Unable to concentrate, I decided it was time to get to work. Of course, my first thoughts were to go find Miss Belle, a childish thought. After all, I had to apologize for the earlier incident. I kept trying to convince myself, perhaps; a sad attempt to justify such actions.

Concentrate… let’s get to work.

I headed out of the office, closing the door behind. There I stood among the crowded hallways with students, all eyes on me. I didn’t fit in at all; I stuck out like a sore thumb.

The school layout should be easy. The school was big and nothing complicated. I figured a good walk through would be in order just to assure protocol. The library faced me, though small but plentiful from what Michael described. I took a left turn down the hallway, passing a good view inside of the library’s interior. Inside, a few students were checking out books while others were seated at tables studying and reading. A few others were greeting the face walking past the library window.

I continued down the small hallway noticing one or two classes to my left; one was closed while the others were in session. Ahead, a doorway led out into the courtyard where Michael and I had first come through. In fact, I was headed in the same direction we had come. At the end, just before the doorway was the staircase we had both ascended and descended which I took to the top floor into the quiet hallway, but instead, of heading to my left as I did earlier with Michael, I decided to take the other direction leading into the balcony area walkway. It was fairly quiet and less crowded; in fact, there were no students on the second floor. I suspected the bell had not yet rung. It was during the lunch period, where one bell rang to end classes and another rang to begin a lunch period. I knew the procedures.

I continued making my way through to the other end that took me into another doorway and into another hallway. Another stairwell greeted me to my left with a row of lockers to each side of the school walls as well as doorways into existing classrooms. A few classrooms lay open while a few others were closed. I passed the first few doorways, which were closed and curiously took a quick look into one of them on my right as I did. It looked like a productive class as a student was standing at the front of the class giving what seemed to be a speech or a debate. On the opposite side was another student, a girl writing on the chalkboard their disagreements.

I moved on before the teacher caught sight of me and invited me in. For I am most certain she would. Above, the bell rang again just as I started walking. I continued taking my right around the hallway instead of continuing straight ahead from where I could see the hallway curve displaying a railing that, from my diagram, overlooked the auditorium below. It would prove for an interesting view.

The hallway I decided to continue on looked almost like a bridge, mainly because from outside it appeared as if it connected to the other side. There was a row of windows decorated one side to the left so there was an abundance of sunlight pouring through the glass, with one or two doorways to my right. Possibly more classes, but they were both dark from inside as I passed them.

Ahead, the hall extended into a small hallway to my left and continued further down into two more hallways, with one that went in both directions instead of cutting off in one end, and as always, rolls and rolls of lockers on both sides of the walls with one or more classrooms. I had to say, the second floor was fairly quiet for a full school of students. It made for a creepy horror slasher movie.

Could it be a good place for any extraterrestrial life form to hide? Was he here now? Lurking perhaps, or even watching me? I wondered. Could it be fooled into thinking I wasn’t a threat? Did Bryce honestly think it was that stupid? Recalling his words, “We must be consistent. We must play the part. The alien can’t be fooled.” The part of what? I wondered. And fooled? Weren’t we trying to do that to it now? If it were up to me I’d come in with guns blazing and draw it out into the open.

Passing the small hallway, I came to stand before a very large window with a perfect view of the library’s interior from the second floor. I must have made a complete circle because I could see the first-floor hallway that I started from in the other direction. To my left, the hallway’s stairwell would descend into the main office but half way, so I was closer to the cafeteria if I descended that stairwell. And if I chose the stairwell on the opposite side with me facing the library window, that stairwell would take me into the middle hallway that was the opposite of the hallway I had first began in.

Sure it was confusing, but when I pictured it in my head, the diagram was very clear and it made sense as to why the cafeteria and the main office seemed to be just a few steps away from the second floor. But it made perfect sense once you gathered your thoughts.

The windows looking into the library had this tall counter top that one could easily climb upon and have a seat. I could picture students sitting there either in observation of those below or just passing their time.

Now alone, it was time to do what I was sent here to do, and so I retrieved from my pocket a small and flat tiny circular metal instrument the size of a tiny diskette with red flashing lights. The center looked like a swirl, almost like the center of a cinnamon bun. Yeah, I know how that sounds but that’s what it reminded me of. Feeling the swirling with my fingers like edges on its metal body, I activated the device then flung it as hard as I could into the air above me. At once, it stuck to the ceiling and remained there blinking like a tiny smoke detector. The disguise was obvious of course.

I walked to the other hallway behind and repeated the procedure, coming around to the opposite hall and doing it just once more. Then, I returned to the area where I had been standing before and tossed another far across in the opposite direction. I watched it fly down the hallway, and before it hit the wall, it took a queer turn sideways onto the ceiling where I heard it click and the indicator on my watch confirmed the attachment.

I tossed another; it also took a turn but in the opposite direction sticking to the ceiling just like the other one. I activated it on my watch. If something were here, these babies would alert me of such. They were undetectable to any devices, although clearly visible so that my alien friend wouldn’t even know what the hell he was looking at. As far as he knew, it was a silly human smoke detector.

Any abnormalities would signal the device on my watch. The thing I loved about these was the self-destruct mechanism; there was no cleaning afterwards. No one would ever know they were there.

After putting Nicholson’s devices to work, I walked into the hall where the stairwell led towards the main hallway but only halfway.

I came down the hallway into a small crowd of students instead of walking back to my office. Since I had never had much of a need for an office, I headed towards the cafeteria instead. I don’t know why I did, the layout for the first floor was fairly simple but I did need to get a few inside that cafeteria. And just how was I planning on doing that? I wondered as I was coming to the end of that hallway where students were heading in and out of the cafeteria and all eyes again were on me.

As I thought of this, I walked in cautiously observing the surroundings and looking for the perfect spot in which to plant the devices. It would no doubt have to be something I’d do after school. Obviously, I thought, looking around at all the students. Jesus, there were so many.

I entered the cafeteria, and then I saw her. All logic went out the window. What the fuck? I uttered under one single breath. The work seemed almost unimportant so suddenly. There was that strange sensation in my veins again like nothing was real, like nothing made sense. Like my life had been a dream up until this moment. Strange as it sounded, it felt that way. It was the same feeling I had sensed when I first entered Milton and saw those slender bronze arms when I looked into the library. It was the same sensation I had when I first met her and then the same sensation I had felt coming down the second floor, that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. I felt sick, trying not to think of how obvious it was that I was now there because of her. How odd. I only hoped that would be the extent of it.

Let’s just apologize and be done with it, a part of me said. Easier said than done, you asshole.

What’s gotten into you, John? You tell me.

We don’t have time for this.

I want to apologize.

Liar.

I trailed through the cafeteria feeling so powerful and yet weak and frightened. My excuse was my lack of empathy. The Man in Blue had no emotion to give. It wasn’t John Slater’s fault. I wanted her to see that, to see me, to see the man no one else ever saw. But why?

You’re delirious. You’re clearly having a nervous breakdown. What else could it be?

I stopped in the center of the cafeteria. Miss Belle wasn’t alone; she had friends with her. I can’t approach her looking pitiful or too apologetic. Why did it matter what I look like? I’ve never asked this. I have never had a problem with approaching anyone, but this was different. Why did it matter and why did it seem that way? What the fuck was happening to me? I wasn’t making any sense.

I stood still thinking of what to say, of how to approach her and how ridiculous I felt for doing so, when along came a teacher. There weren’t a lot of attractive teachers at the school, and I don’t have much of a choice. My selection was limited.

“How are you, Dr. Black? I just wanted to come by and welcome you to Milton.” She was an older woman, with graying locks of long hair gathered into a bundle behind the top of her head. Dressed in a pink long-sleeved silk blouse with a purple cotton sweater and a gray short skirt. She wore thick large round-framed glasses. Her lips were stain in a darker shade of pink and her eye shadow a pastel blue. She wore far too much blush.

I reached to shake her hand; she was faster than me, taking my hand quickly into hers. Odd, I thought as she took my hand and for a moment would not let go of it. I had to nearly pry it from her fingers. She stood awfully close and I had to take a step back.

“I appreciate it, Mrs.?” I politely asked as she reluctantly released my hands. She smiled, blushing foolishly like a teenage girl yet, unfortunately, looking nothing like one.

“It’s Mrs. Whitman. I’m the 10th grade English teacher. And let me just say, it’s a pleasure to have someone as professional as yourself serving here. It’s been too long in the making. Not that the former principal, Dr. Edwards, wasn’t a professional, but oh god, we’re in desperate need of new faces as much as renovations. With you here, perhaps we will get those serious repairs this place requires.”

I glared over at her. Was this woman serious? Did she just insult Dr. Edwards in front of me?

Far ahead of me, Claudia was getting up from the table, and there seemed to be some kind of chaos among the table where she sat. I pulled away from Mrs. Whitman as hastily and as politely as I could do so.

“Will you excuse me, Mrs. Whitman?” I said.

I wasn’t that desperate. I could see the obvious desire and hunger in her eyes.

“It was nice talking to you, Dr. Black.” She said staring away at me in longing.

I waved her away as I made my way around the other end of the cafeteria, hoping to keep any further interruptions at bay. I caught Claudia’s eyes wandering away into the cafeteria; she hadn’t caught sight of me at the other end as she turned to look at a girl dressed all in black, reminding me of an oddity that had been my first encounter with a real vampire.

Yes, they were real, unpleasant ugly creatures, nothing like the romantic and charming Anne Rice characters and far from the ones in Twilight movies. They were more like Nosferatu from Romania, disgusting bloodthirsty beasts.

I came behind her as she stood in front of me with her back to me. The girl in black lifted her eyes towards mine, but I wasn’t looking at her. I was staring at Claudia’s slender back and that flowing brown mane as I tried to figure out why I was standing behind her.

Why are you doing this? Why are we here? I’m not sure, something; something powerful has brought me, something I was yet to understand.

“Miss Claudia Belle,” I called to her, and she seemed to jump up, but refused to turn to me.

12

Miss Claudia Belle

“Miss Claudia Belle.”

I heard Dr. Black’s voice from behind; I must say, I liked the way he pronounced my name. He said it KLAW-DEE-AH instead of CLOUD-DIA. I liked the KLAW-DEE-AH pronunciation because it sounded stronger and more elegant. It drove me nuts getting people to pronounce it right. He wasn’t trying to split my name into two words. My name came out smoothly and boldly pronounced from his beautiful lips, simply CLAUDIA. It gave me chills to hear it, especially coming from him. I didn’t know why. I loved hearing him say my name.

Nevertheless, instead of turning, I dashed out into the hallway with Alex’s eyes following me out. The expression on her face seemed to ask, what are you doing? Dr. Black’s calls didn’t stop me; what was he going to do, run right after me? Yeah, right. Maybe he’d send for me later, but by then I’d come up with some other idea to escape going to his office.

I looked back at the entrance, quickly walking into the hall and nearly had a heart attack when I found Dr. Black standing in the hall smiling back at me. It wasn’t the fact of just finding him there that startled me, but it was the way he seemed to smile as if he had beaten me at my own game. Appearing sinisterly wicked, he glared back at me in the clean blue suit and striped tie; his handsome stature was perfectly professional, and you’d think the FBI was here to take me away.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Dr. Black cunningly asked with a grin. The students standing nearby stared back at me and then began whispering. Dr. Black came to stand in front of me as they cleared a path for him. He demanded the eyes and attention of others, at least his stature did. And now, he was demanding my attention, but why?

“Are you trying to hide from me?” He asked. I lowered my head, nearly turning red. How did he know? Was it that obvious?

“No,” I tried saying with a tiny little laugh, perhaps to try and reassure him. “I’m not hiding; I’m going to class,” I said cunningly, trying to keep myself from blushing again. But I could see he didn’t believe me. I didn’t even believe myself. “Am I in trouble?” I finally asked while looking slowly up at him.

Dr. Black curved his lip slightly into a grin, and I realized he had a beautiful smile. When I thought about that, I couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Of course not. Why would you think that?” Dr. Black politely asked, but he didn’t expect me to answer.

“Let’s walk.” He motioned me beside him, and I did reluctantly move, and soon, we left the cafeteria noise behind us and moved down the hall towards the main office. I noticed envy stares of others’.

Dr. Black was quite tall; I didn’t realize it until I was standing alongside him. I felt so fragile in his presence. It wasn’t that I was short, but I guess I was small in frame. I mean, I was about 5’5’’, but he was well over six foot. He wasn’t ridiculously tall, but he seemed it compared to me. He wasn’t at all lanky like the other administrators, he was broad.

“I want to apologize,” Dr. Black began as I nervously walked alongside him, unable to look over in his direction.

“Apologize for what?” I stupidly asked, still unable to look at him.

“For being so insensitive first of all,” he softly answered.

We walked outside the main office near the library as he motioned me into his office. Mrs. Wallace wasn’t at her desk as I was accustomed to seeing her. I figured she was at lunch, and Dr. Black walked into his office, allowing me to go in first. When I looked around I noticed no big changes, only a few boxes still cluttered by the side of the wall, and all my grandfather’s furniture was still there. He hadn’t taken any of the furniture out. Although, the few photographs and certificates now decorating the wall next to the entrance and behind his desk were his.

I stopped by the entrance to examine the photographs and certificates displayed on Dr. Black’s wall, reading through them; there were pictures and awards and a few charities he seemed to have been part of. When I turned, I noticed Dr. Black was standing by his desk and my lips nervously quivered when I found him gazing back at me; it made me feel slightly uncomfortable. I wanted to flee.

Why did he look at me that way? His eyes brightly gazed over to me at full alert. I felt he was trying to figure me out. It made me uncomfortable when people looked at me that way, and especially now, when he did. Did he know it? And if he did, why did he continue staring back at me in that way? He made me lower my eyes, and I felt he had wanted this victory.

Then, I wished I hadn’t said what I had said, but I was so uncomfortable and it seemed I always said dumb things when I was uncomfortable. “Wow, you’re really popular.”

I felt stupid for saying it, but it was the first thing that came out of my mouth. I wanted to leave, feeling my cheeks burning red. Dr. Black smiled and then laughed, as I stood there trying to disappear, biting my lower lip. Doing this made me feel even more embarrassed; he found it comical. God, why did I do this to myself?

“You could say that,” he merely said with a wide grin on his handsome face. “I like to get involved,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked like he was posing for the cover of GQ; even the expression on his face gave that indication.

I swallowed hard, having a difficult time looking up at him, feeling that perhaps he was examining me as I had examined those items around his office. But when I did bravely look at Dr. Black’s face, I could see his blue suit was immaculate and well kept. His flawless face, smooth and just perfect. He had the appearance of a mature, yet youthful man. But there was also a manly ruggedness about him that I found strangely interesting. And immediately I couldn’t believe I had thought that. Perhaps Alex’s thoughts and even words were finding their way into my head.

“Please, come and take a seat,” Dr. Black politely offered, and I slowly walked over to the chairs in front of his desk and collapsed on the cushion as he watched me with the same full grin on his face.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Dr. Black began; he was seated at the edge of his desk as I reluctantly sat in front of him.

“I can’t imagine losing someone. Then losing your grandfather all in the same month, especially when you hardly knew him.” He knew, I thought, but of course he knew. I had just yelled at him about it. Then, I wondered if Michael had told him anything else.

I nervously stirred, sitting there with his gaze on me, and I felt myself welling up. I didn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him. I was already so embarrassed by my foolish words and his hypnotic eyes staring at me.

“I myself don’t have a family. I never knew my parents,” he offered, and I stared up at him and wondered why he was telling me this. I was surprised to hear him say that. But I was mostly surprised that he was sharing that with me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that,” I offered. He smiled warmly back at me.

“You don’t have to apologize, Miss Belle. I’m simply trying to say that I can’t understand how hard it must be for you. Unlike me, you knew your parents, and now they have been taken from you. I can’t imagine it.”

I looked down, holding back my tears.

Dr. Black reached down, taking a hold of my chin. It felt like he didn’t like people looking away from him. I swiftly looked up at him; he looked surprised when I did. His green eyes sadly gazed down at me. I couldn’t explain the look; it was as though I had caught him off guard. He seemed out of breath but immediately appeared to regain his composure, and if I hadn’t noticed it in that instant, I would not have seen it at all.

Then, he said, “I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories. Those weren’t my intentions.”

Startled by his touch, I merely gazed timidly up at him.

“It’s alright,” I whispered. His eyes blinked, and he slowly let me go. No one had ever done that to me. No one had ever grabbed hold of my attention and demanded it, only my father. But it seemed every part of his being seemed to do that. He demanded my full attention. I wondered if it was everyone’s attention he demanded, or did I just want it to be mine?

“I hold a great deal of respect for your grandfather,” he continued. “I’m being truthful.”

I looked away, finding it harder and harder to look up at him when he spoke, and when he looked at me with those big green eyes, I couldn’t stop thinking of all the things Alex had said about him.

And I thought about her, Alex. What had turned her conversation into a disagreement between the others? I felt in some way it was my entire fault. Alex, who could blame her? She was only being the teenage girl she obviously was supposed to be. It was the others that were acting odd, if not overreacting.

There was a brief awkward pause between Dr. Black and I, and I immediately felt I had to speak.

“I see you haven’t really changed anything in the office,” I tried to change the subject and he merely grinned back, looking around the room from the edge of his desk.

“I saw no point in doing so. Things change fairly quickly in the school district. There’s always a chance I may not be here long.”

That was a shame, just when I was getting to know him so well. But did I really feel that way?

“That would be a shame,” I said, then I bit my lip. Somehow, he seriously doubted my words. I guess I wasn’t the only one.

“Well, I’m flattered,” he said with a smirk while crossing his arms. “But I just think you’re being nice and kind,” Dr. Black laughed slightly.

“Of course not,” I offered. “It would be a shame since I’m just getting to know you.”

“That’s true, Miss Belle,” he said softly. “And who else would keep me in line, correct?” He gave me a full grin, still seated at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed, staring back at me. I couldn’t look at him as I blinked, realizing how nervous I felt when he’d called me by my last name. It almost sounded romantic. Damn you, Alex, for putting those thoughts into my head.

“So, that’s why you must stay,” I bravely said, overstepping my boundaries. What the hell was I doing?

It’s called flirting; I could hear Alex’s voice in my head.

“We have history now,” I said, and Dr. Black laughed and nodded. He looked well entertained by my words. The words that so embarrassed me.

13

Dr. John Black

Was she flirting with me? I merely examined her, taking all of her in: what she wore and how she glanced over at me. She was dressed in a white sheer blouse with a gray tank top underneath that covered her slender frame. She had on tight fitting blue jeans and a pair of red Doc Martins. Her long brown hair was loosely falling on her slender backside. She liked to pull back strands of her hair behind her ears, and sometimes when she was nervous, she bit her lip.

Who indeed would keep me in line? The fact that I wouldn’t be here long was the honest truth; once my assignment was over, my days here would be numbered.

“You’re right, we do, Miss Belle,” I softly said, licking my lips as she looked bashfully back at me, perhaps now regretting she had said that to me. I’ll be honest, if you invite me, I’ll take the invitation, and if you flirt with me, I’m going to flirt right back.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have any control over that. But don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” I said as I turned towards my desk. “By the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to give you, and now that I have you here in my office, I’d like to.”

I lifted a picture frame from my desk drawer and brought it forward. She bravely came a few steps closer, now standing alongside my desk. She looked nervous. Did I make her nervous? So, I hadn’t lost my touch. I can be rather intimidating.

The frame I presented to her was one she had left here. It was one of her grandfather, a picture I had admired and one I would have kept if it was her image alone and not of her grandfather. But I knew it meant a lot to her; I could see it in her pretty brown eyes. I could see it even though now she was hiding her eyes from me in that bashful way that I loved in women.

14

Claudia

I bravely came closer than I wanted to be. Dr. Black made me nervous when he looked over at me. I didn’t understand why. Sure, he was handsome, but it was the way his eyes pierced through me that unsettled me. Maybe it was because I was just a silly girl to him, or perhaps because I knew he had found me trying to read his thoughts, and I was waiting for him to tell me so.

Dr. Black presented the frame to me, I could feel his eyes on me as I noticed the photograph in his hands. I took it from him, accidentally brushing his fingers with my own hand, and I almost dropped the frame in surprise, but Dr. Black caught it and gently put it in my hand. He merely smiled, gazing over at me. I looked down, perhaps away, feeling it amused him when I did.

“Thank you,” I softly whispered.

“You’re welcome, Miss Belle.” I liked it when he called me by my last name. I felt important and respected.

I gazed at the picture frame now and realized it was the last photograph I had of my grandfather before his death. In fact, it was the only one I had of him.

“I know it must be very important to you. I’m sorry. I meant to return it to you much sooner. You left it here after you chewed me out earlier today,” Dr. Black said politely as I blushed back when he said those words.

“It’s a nice picture,” he again said.

“God, I’m sorry about that,” I whispered, feeling so embarrassed.

Dr. Black put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Miss Belle, it’s alright; it’s all in the past now. Besides, you shouldn’t have seen that. And I’m sorry you did. Now…” Dr. Black said taking a deep breath. I didn’t know what to say. But it was then that I thought I was going to collapse with nerves as he gazed so deeply into my eyes. He pulled away and looked slightly dazed when he did.

“I was serious,” he gently said as I pulled away, holding onto the picture.

“You are serious about what, sir?” I said while biting my lip.

“About what I said before,” he continued, grinning. “I really would like us to be friends, and I promise not to open my mouth and say something stupid again as I did before,” he smiled, showing a set of stunning white teeth behind hiss plump lips.

I nodded with difficulty, wanting to hate him but finding it even harder with each word and look. He came around the other side of his desk and pulled the drawer open and brought out a yellow pad. He scribbled a few words onto the surface of the pad, and then tore out the scribbled yellow slip and handed it over to me.

I gazed at it; it was a tardy slip. “In case you need it, I think I’ve kept you in here too long. Now, I wanted you to know that if you need anything, anything at all, my office is always open. No matter how small the reason is.”

He smiled in that intoxicating manner that both weakened and angered me, and I reluctantly bobbed my head like a rag doll and whispered, “Okay”

“I’m glad we had this talk,” Dr. Black softly said, walking around his desk. I slowly wandered over to the office door with the slip in my hand.

I didn’t want to turn and catch him looking over at me again. I tried to consider what he had said, perhaps trying to figure him out, and those strange useless sounds coming from his head that I couldn’t decode. Did he know what I could do? The way he acted indicated that he knew something, but was he ignoring the obvious, and if so, why?

The first time we had met I knew he had discovered me digging into his head, but why did he refuse to mention it now? I was thankful, but I was also curious.

“I can see it, Miss Belle,” I heard Dr. Black say from where he stood near his desk as I slowly walked away; it seemed he was trying to keep our conversation going.

I glanced back standing at the entrance of the office. As he stood by the desk, boldly observing me, I tried to avoid his eyes.

“See what?” I softly asked, holding the framed photograph against me.

“That you remind me of Pocahontas,” Dr. Black suddenly said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk again. I recalled Alex’s words in the cafeteria as she had referred to me. I blushed almost instantly when he said that. He had heard our conversation, and I thought about all those other things Alex had said about him being so handsome and being my John Smith. I was speechless as his smile spread over that charming face, as if he could read the expression on my face.

“May I ask you something?” He said, and that same grin reappeared on his face; it was the smirk I’d become accustomed to with the curving side lip and those eyes beaming back.

“Yes, sir?”

His eyes were piercing and beckoning and paralyzing. Dr. Black never looked away, unlike me who couldn’t quite look up at him. I was a quivering mess filled with butterflies that squirmed in my stomach. And I wondered if that was normal or if I had caught something like the flu.

“Eres Latina, ¿sí?” Dr. Black simply asked me in Spanish; it freaked me out when he did. He spoke Spanish. Was there anything he couldn’t do? But it was the manner that he asked; he was smiling, waiting for the answer that was to him an obvious yes. He looked almost intoxicated, in a dreamlike state.

“Yes,” I glared at him oddly. Why was he asking such an abnormal question?

“I thought so,” he responded, but it was the way he had said it and what he said next as he exhaled and smiled fully.

“¿Por qué no me respondes en español?” he again asked in Spanish. Did he want to hear me speak Spanish, and why?

“Sí ¿hablas en español?” he asked. I looked at him, slightly offended. Was he seriously doing this and why?

“Sí, muy bien,” I responded in Spanish and then answered the rest in English. “Why do you ask?”

“Don’t be ashamed of who you are,” he said, smiling back at me.

“I’m not,” I said, lying as the smile on his face spread.

“Entonces habla conmigo en español,” His Spanish was indeed perfect but tinged with the obvious accent of any American. I felt as if he was playing with me. The smirk on his face had not once disappeared, and his eyes were fully alert, gazing at me from where he was sitting. Why did he make me so nervous? And why did he want me to refer to him in Spanish?

“¿Qué quiere que yo diga?” I responded in Spanish, and he parted his lips as the word escaped his mouth.

“Perfecto.” I felt like I was in Spanish class getting graded.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said as I lifted my eyes up at him.

“You speak Spanish very well,” I simply said, hoping he would stop staring at me like that.

“Perhaps it’s because I love everything that is Spanish,” he merely offered, but it was the expression on his face that said far more than his words, and it shocked me.

“I’m just curious since your grandfather seemed more…” he suddenly said.

"White,” I offered.

“Someone with Anglo American characteristics I mean,” He corrected me, and I blushed, “Oh.”

He nodded with that same grin on his face and the same deep concentration that had accompanied his being. He looked merely intoxicated and slightly lost. His eyes seemed in a trance and confused.

"Yes," he softly answered, crossing his arms again, and I wondered whether he had any work at all since he had so much time to talk to me.

“My father was the same. He looked like you. Well, not like you, but he had light skin. White,” I said. “Like my grandfather.”

Dr. Black seemed to be listening politely with a nod of his head and that handsome smile on his clean-shaven face and those paralyzing green eyes breaking me to pieces inside and out.

"But my mother was Latin. I get it from my mother’s side, I guess. Everyone tells me how much I looked like her. She had dark brown hair with a bronzed complexion like me. I guess that's where the nickname Pocahontas comes from. I get that a lot.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s a cruel joke,” I whispered. “I guess it’s the long hair.”

“Then you got the best part of the gene pool,” Dr. Black said. “It shouldn’t bother you; she was very beautiful, the actress who played her I mean.”

“She was, I suppose,” I nervously tried to say while sounding uninterested; he was referencing the movie with Colin Farrell and Christian Bale. It was in that moment that I looked at him and noticed he reminded me a bit of Christian Bale but with lighter hair, but his beautiful green eyes were just as piercing and powerful. That’s why he didn’t belong here; he was too pretty, like the actor, to be a simple principal of Milton.

I shook the thought away. Now I would never see him in any other way. It was like when you get an idea of someone who reminds you of someone else. Well, there was my Christian Bale; he might as well have been looking back at me from Dr. Black’s eyes.

“Well, I'm nothing like her,” I softly said.

“No, you’re not,” Dr. Black said, which surprised me. I felt a little insulted.

15

Dr. John Black

“I know what I am. You don’t have to be rude,” she was quick to say.

“I’m not,” I gazed at her puzzled. “You are far more beautiful than her. Your mother must have been very beautiful too if she looked anything like you,” I said as she suddenly blushed, realizing her mistake. She looked embarrassed, slightly lowering her gaze from me. She seemed speechless. It appeared she didn’t think much of herself until I had said something to her.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she bashfully said while turning away. “Thank you for the…uh…” She uttered, lifting the framed photograph and then hurrying out.

Had I upset her again? I didn’t even know how. What had I said to insult her this time? I rose, confused, and tried calling her back, but she disappeared before I could.

“Miss Belle?” And just like that, she was gone.

16

Claudia Belle

Later that same day, after lunch but before I hurried to Michael’s class, Alex caught up to me in the hallway. My schedule had changed slightly. I didn’t notice her until she was walking alongside me and began to speak.

“Hey,” Alex softly whispered.

“Hey,” I answered back, and there was a brief silence between us as we moved through the crowded halls of Milton.

“Have you talked to the others?” I asked her.

“Nope,” she merely said while tugging at her school bag.

“You?” Alex asked me.

“Not yet,”

“So, what are you gonna do?” I asked, referring to the fact that they had stormed out of the cafeteria and left her alone with no intention of returning.

“Do about what?” She replied with laughter. “Do you think it matters what they say or the fact that they’re not talking to me? I could care less. Fuck them!”

“So, you’re not going to the party?” I asked her. She turned and gave me a huge smile.

“Are you kidding me? Of course I’m going. Who else is going to give you a ride?”

I smiled back. “I can already see the look on Tina’s face,” I added as we hurried through the crowded hallways.

“Me too,” she said. We stopped by my locker.

A handsome guy with blond hair came to the locker next to mine and it was the first time I had ever noticed him since coming to Milton. It was odd that I hadn’t. And now that I had, I couldn't stop staring at his beautiful blue eyes as he smiled back at me from behind the locker door. I couldn’t help noticing a camera strap dangling from the side of his shoulder, while at the other end was a camera sitting in the palm of his right hand.

“Photography.” he suddenly said, catching me eyeing the camera in his hands as he retrieved a small black bag from the inside of the locker and put a lens inside it.

“I’m taking photography.” he said again, in a very shy manner. I tried smiling but couldn’t help but blush and bashfully hide behind the locker door.

God, he was handsome. I bit my lips as he grinned warmly again, and Alex’s words were long forgotten at his second glance.

“Hi, I’m Jimmy Reinhart.” he politely offered.

I blushed yet again, “Oh, I'm Claudia—” I began to say until he said, “I know,” catching me off guard and making me look down in embarrassment. Of course he did, I thought. Who didn’t know me?

“Hi Jimmy,” Alex suddenly said, coming between us, “Can you excuse us? Thanks…” she rudely interrupted. Jimmy tried looking over her shoulder towards me as I did too.

She slammed the locker and grabbed my arm, leading me away from the handsome Jimmy.

“See ya”—I heard Jimmy’s voice whisper slowly as we left him behind.

I saw Jimmy moving away, disappearing down the opposite direction of the hallway but caught him looking back once or twice before he was lost in the crowd.

“Anyways, what happened with you know who?” Alex again asked, aching for details; ignoring the very fact she had just possibly ruined my chances of getting to know a very interesting guy. I was reluctant at first, although unable to make sense of it myself but knew right away who she was talking about.

Had my grandfather’s death made me a magnet for everyone’s sympathy? It was disgusting, and still, having all that attention made me feel important. I wondered whether I had longed for that all this time. Still, Dr. Black’s kindness and concern worried me. Maybe it was because I wanted to hate him but couldn’t find any real reason to. There was just something too perfect about him, and it was disgusting and disturbing. I didn’t know why.

“Come on, what did he say?” Alex pleaded.

“Who?” I said stupidly, walking down the hallway with her stumbling behind. From the other side of the hall, we caught sight of the other three: Tina, Sean, and Ruben.

Tina motioned me to their group. Even Sean and Ruben invited me to join them. I waved them away and made a motion of being tardy, and they continued on without stopping, but they were obviously disappointed that I was with Alex and not them.

“You could have gone,” Alex suddenly said, still hurrying to stay by my side.

“I didn’t want to. Besides, they’re kind of odd,” I revealed.

“Sister, that is the understatement of the century,” Alex exclaimed laughing. “Especially that Tina, but don’t let her know I told you that. Not that it really matters now. They’re never gonna talk to me anyway. I can understand if you don’t want to either since they’re still friends with you.”

“You’re my friend too,” I said as we walked up the staircase to the second floor and stopped near the window overlooking the library.

“So, you never told me what Dr. Black said to you,” Alex asked again. My class was just around the corner when we walked into the hallway, stopping right outside.

“Well?” Alex insisted, jabbing an elbow into my side.

“I don’t know what he wants. It’s weird. He said he wants to be friends,” I said to her while rolling my eyes.

“Friends?” She grinned and winked.

“I know what you’re gonna say. And no. I think he really respects my grandfather.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Who knows? And by the way, he heard you in the cafeteria.”

“Heard what?” Alex asked.

“Heard you calling me Pocahontas,” I angrily said.

“Oh, no shit! He did? Oh man, did he tell you that?” Alex said laughing and putting her hand over her mouth. She was recalling the moment now as she stopped and thought about it.

“He must have. He brought it up. He called me Pocahontas; he said he could see it,” I told her.

“I fucking told you. So, did you tell him he was your John Smith?”

“Ha-ha. No!” I angrily replied, but I blushed at her words.

“Well, what happened? What did he say?” Alex pressed me for more details.

“I don’t know; it got a bit weird, and he started speaking to me in Spanish,” I said, wrinkling a brow back at her.

“Fuck, no shit! That is strange. Is he any good?” She humored, and I rolled my eyes again.

“Very good,” I said.

“So, then?” She asked.

“I thought for a moment he was insulting me, but it turned out I was wrong. I felt stupid and just got out of there after I realized he was only being nice,” I said.

“Well, what did he say?” Alex continued.

I took a deep breath. “Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. What did that asshole say to get you so pissed off? Besides calling you Pocahontas?”

“He said I was beautiful, alright?” I blushed.

“What? And you’re pissed over that?” Alex asked.

“No. I thought he was trying to insult me. It’s only after that I realized he wasn’t. But I mean seriously, he was obviously just being nice to the poor girl who had lost her parents. He didn’t have to go there.”

“Are you serious, girl? You haven’t noticed it yet,”

“Noticed what?” I stubbornly asked.

“You’re fucking beautiful!” Alex yelled.

“Then why did he call me that?” I’ve always seen it as a cruel joke, an insult being called Pocahontas.

“It was a fucking compliment! He was complimenting you. Didn’t you see the movies? Pocahontas is always this beautiful Native American girl with long, dark hair and dark eyes; she’s always a beautiful woman. That’s what he was saying. That’s what everyone is saying when they say it to you. Don’t take it as an insult; it’s meant as a compliment.”

I didn’t believe her, but then it made some sense. Okay, I really screwed up there. And I had known it; that’s why I raced out of there when I realized it. I felt embarrassed from his kind words. I was bad at taking compliments, I guess. I felt like an idiot. I was just too embarrassed to face him after realizing it. So I ran.

“I know I messed up on that one,” I whispered, feeling my face still burning with embarrassment.

“Exactly,” Alex said. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Probably bury my face in the sand,” I uttered. “God, I feel like an idiot.”

“Or maybe.” She grinned.

“No,” I said, and Alex smiled.

“I’m just kidding,” she said. “Well, if he wants a friend, I can be the best one he’s ever had.” She then started laughing. Above us, the bell rang again, and I could see Michael inside setting up his lesson. Michael had finally returned to his normal duties as an English teacher. I think he’d really missed it.

“Hey, how about I pick you up at your place for school? We can drive to school together?” Alex suggested, and I smiled. I guessed it would be alright, but I was not thinking about it. I honestly didn’t want to say no.

“Sure, why not? Now you’d better get going before you’re late to class,” I said to Alex.

“Class?” She uttered. “I’ve got more important things to do. I’ll see you around.” And she waved, darting away in the other direction before the second bell rang.

17

Dr. John Black

I stood looking out the window and watching the traffic. The office still sat in utter chaos: pictures and framed certificates were among the many things in a box next to my desk. I had not finished unpacking since my arrival, but one mere box was all that was left. I had made some progress, but for now, I thought of nothing else but Miss Belle.

I could think of nothing else. I pounced angrily to my desk. What’s wrong with me? It was not merely the idea of her looking like a woman I desired but there was something unnatural about my attraction. Was that an attraction, or something inhuman that pounced at the core of my being and at the center of my soul? I didn’t even understand it. In fact, I wanted to forget it and put it out of my mind.

Concentrate. My mind was saying but I found it far harder than I thought.

Nothing had prepared me for her.

I laughed, glaring at the remaining box on my desk with uttered disinterest.

Why did I dare defy what I had to do? Define the very idea of whom I was and what I had to do as an agent of the ADA. Why now?

It was obviously her that had moved the desks and caused the lights to flicker. There was no denying it at all. It only puzzled me more noticing that other principals had tried to hide it. It was as if they knew she could do these things. And I was certain they were protecting her.

She needs to be protected, I mumbled.

Protected, John? Since when does John Slater protect anyone?

True. A small chuckle left my lips.

It was time to talk to the boss; get hold of yourself.

I came around my desk, moving the box off the table and onto the chair next to it. I opened the laptop, clicking on a file I had composed of her, of all the facts I’d gathered.

Concentrate.

I deleted the file.

The screen on the laptop came alive as a window opened in front of me; a blond-haired figure appeared, wearing dark square-framed glasses and a white clean suit, underneath a black shirt with a flashy red tie.

“Operation search and retrieve has begun, sir. I have now infiltrated and taken up the role as principal,” I simply said to the figure.

“Excellent. Maintain radio silence until the subject has been located. And only then, reestablish radio communication to arrange the retrievable. Understood?” The Man in White said from the other end.

“Are we still sure of its present location, sir?” I didn’t want to consider the idea of staying any longer in this place.

And regarding Project X, if it was among these people, I prayed to find it first before it found me. We had never been formally introduced, but Project X and I had been acquainted at one time.

“Failure is not an option. Search and retrieve; you have your orders,” The Man in White said. He hadn’t said a damn thing about the file on Claudia Belle, nor had he sent it. He wasn’t even going to mention it. It seemed he wanted me to. Bastard. He was laughing at me, wasn’t he?

“Why didn’t you tell me about the girl?” I immediately asked, and he was neither surprised nor pleased by my question. It was a naughty thing for him to have kept something as important as this from me.

What can be said about The Man in White? He was hard to read. He calmly curved a lip; his expression seemed to regard me, and he looked delighted, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

“The girl?” He asked, grinning. He didn’t seem to know what I meant. I was surprised to hear that tone in his voice for the first time.

You must report. You must.

“You didn’t know about her?” I merely asked, glaring over at him, feeling puzzled and curious. I couldn’t tell anything from his facial expression. He always kept everything close to his chest.

“How is that possible?”

“I didn’t find it necessary.” He replied.

Is that why Bryce hadn’t said anything about her to me? Then he didn’t know what she was capable of doing. Or she would have been my first priority.

“You didn’t?” Was he serious?

“As far as I know, she’s irrelevant,” he then said. I liked to think he said that when he had no answer for me.

“Irrelevant my ass; she’s Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter, and you’re trying to tell me The Company has no record of her? Bullshit!” I angrily said; he was patient, and his glassy stare made me refrain from my anger and calm down.

Bryce typed from the other end of the screen, and a file appeared immediately before us:

Family dies in a tragic car accident. Mr. Nicholas Belle and Isabella Belle perished while on a drive late Friday night. It appears Mr. Belle, a CEO businessman for a large financial firm, lost control of the car and was hit by a passing truck. The two were killed on impact.

It’s unknown whether their daughter was among the fatality; authorities are not disclosing any information at this time on the whereabouts of young Claudia Belle, a student at Portland High School.

“Congratulations, now you know more than the police, and as much as I know,” Bryce said, grinning. Her picture appeared on the screen, and the smile on his face spread. So, Nicholas Belle was her father, I thought.

“Who is she?” I asked. If he knew, he wasn’t talking, and The Man in White had his reasons; though, it was hard to see what they were. But at this point, they appeared to be irrelevant, as he had stated. Perhaps he was trying to torture me.

“No one. It’s irrelevant to your mission,” he said, the curved lip took the shape of a firm line.

“But then again, that’s not entirely true I suppose. She’s your type down to the last detail, is she not?” He added, and his eyes were now brightly mocking me. Was he laughing at me? His words stung like a bad taste. That wasn’t the problem. It’s what I sensed when I was near her. And I couldn’t possibly tell him.

He knew what I liked; he knew my preferences in women. It wasn’t easy hiding it from him, my obvious desire to possess someone like her. I was very readable right about now, and I hated it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her? Why?” I snarled. He knew what I would say; he knew me well, and it sickened me to think that perhaps he had given me this assignment because he wanted to see me in despair.

But perhaps I shouldn’t have lost it as I did. If I was trying to hide the fact that her appearance did not bother me then I had failed to do so. It was what I couldn’t see that was making me uneasy around her and nothing else, especially not the idea of how alike a woman I desire she appeared to be.

There was no explanation for my queer emotions, but right now, they seemed to be obvious to him. I was fixated by the fact that she was my type. At least those were his conclusions.

“Stop!” Bryce angrily hissed. “This is your mission, remember that. That’s what’s important and nothing else and most certainly not her.”

“She is important! She’s Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter; that does not make her irrelevant. You owe me an explanation!” I snarled. I couldn’t work out what angered me most; the idea I hadn’t gotten all the facts about my assignment or the fact that I couldn’t understand my uneasiness and queer devotion to her, or my disregard for procedure. Or even why I felt compelled not to tell my boss the truth about my find. That she was a minder, a female Minder! Someone he so eagerly would want to get his greedy little hands on.

“I owe you nothing. She’s irrelevant as far as I’m concerned,” he calmly said, glaring at me. “The fact that she’s Dr. Edwards’ granddaughter is of very little interest to me. Far from your queer attraction, she’s of no importance.” He cruelly said once more. There was a small pause as he took a breath.

“Now that we have cleared the air, you will proceed with the mission,” he so calmly instructed.

“But,” I tried to say, fighting the urge to continue my lecture upon his cruel motives, whatever they were— because there were motives The Man in White was never without a cruel motive.

“But nothing. If she becomes a distraction, I will have her eliminated. Do you understand?” The Man in White firmly asked. “So, is she a distraction?”

“No. She is not,” I simply said, grinding my teeth. Of course, I knew he would carry out his threats.

“I know you want her. I can see it in your eyes. You need to be aware that you approaching her in any way will jeopardize your mission. I can’t afford failure because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. Concentrate on your mission! Do not approach her.” He growled at me, keeping his calm composure. I’m not sure how he did that.

Was I relieved he thought those were my reasons for bringing her up? And now I strongly regretted it. But in a way, it justified my queer behavior if he sensed it. It excused it.

“She’s too young for me,” I merely said.

“Like that ever stopped the great John Slater,” The Man in White mocked, almost laughing at me. It angered me that he thought so little of me.

“Now, besides your unsettling attraction to her, is there anything else that stirs your interest—anything of interest perhaps to me?” he asked.

“Nothing further, sir—” I simply replied.

“Very well then, she’s irrelevant. So, do we understand each other?” The Man in White asked.

“Yes sir, we do,” I uttered through a firm lip.

“But just for your own amusement. I’ll send you what little The Company has on her and her family if it’ll please you,” he suddenly offered, and now he was grinning.

“Then get her off your mind for good! Is that understood?” I folded a firm lip; I’m fucking trying, sir, I thought.

I merely nodded. But what else could he do? I already knew far more than he wanted me to. I could tell and sense it. Nothing would keep me from searching or digging out everything I wanted to know about her. Why did I feel compelled to know everything about her? And why did I feel he knew more? The harder I tried to concentrate, the harder I felt pulled back to the web of confusion whenever she was near. And it was nothing like the sexual conquests for then I would understand it. It was something deep, something unnatural and unearthly. Something I knew I had sensed before that made no further sense when I realized it.

“Don’t forget you have work to do. Enjoy the photograph,” he smirked. The screen went dead.

I couldn’t ignore it; something had stopped me from informing The Man in White of her existence. She was a minder, a rare thing because she was female and was even more valuable for that reason.

I was on my own once again, on my own with my emotions and desires, a victim of them like I had never been before. But for some reason, I was not deterred. I would have my price. And I would be away from here, far from the confusion that was spiraling my thoughts and emotions out of control. And I would be myself once more. The hunter. The lover. Those things made sense to me.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a crystal. It was glowing red, and I knew when I saw the light glowing from its body that what I was looking for was indeed close.

I didn’t want it to turn into the incident in Chicago that had cost me a whole squad, questions, and punishment; they chewed me up and spat me out just for simply following orders and failing to contain the incident that involved the local police. But The Company had procedures for when local authorities were contacted. They were bought out, and those that weren’t, were quickly silenced in other ways.

The file arrived in my inbox shortly after. I clicked the attachment and another screen opened; it showed a picture of a very beautiful family, a well-dressed man in a black suit and dark tie with blond hair and blue eyes, a woman beside him dressed in a red gown. She was beautiful and resembled Claudia. She had long brown hair and bronzed, beautiful skin. Her frame was small in comparison to her husband’s.

“You do look like your mother,” I whispered to Claudia’s picture. Claudia looked nothing like her father, except I could see where she got her gaze. Her father looked like a man who demanded perfection and respect and someone who would get it at the tip of a hat. He looked fearsome with a smirk on his lips that seemed to be laughing back at the camera. He didn’t look like someone I would have gotten along with. I think we would have butted heads instantly. He’d have seen me coming long before I was inches in front of him. He would have known what I was after, and he wouldn’t have allowed me within a hair of his daughter.

They seemed to be at a charity function; Claudia was wearing a beautiful maroon dress and standing beside her father with her father’s arm around her and the other arm around her mother. He had two very attractive women beside him. Lucky fuck! She seemed older in this picture for some reason, and I looked closely. Was she wearing makeup? Yes, she was dolled up, painted like a beautiful lady. She was beautiful, but why did I sense there was a reason for her appearance in this photo?

She was the apple of her father’s eye. I could very well see that, and I wasn’t surprised that it made me a bit jealous. Nicholas Belle was quite a handsome man, and I could see we both had the same taste in women: Spanish.

The date on the picture showed that it was taken three weeks before the accident. The caption read: Espon, Espon & Spain Financial Firm, CEO Nicholas Belle with his wife Isabella Belle and daughter Claudia Belle attending the Valentine & Fassbender charity function.

Valentine? Now, why did that sound familiar? It appeared that the caption was missing something.

Below the picture, it seemed that Bryce had composed a small bio of Miss Belle in a brief paragraph. Can anyone’s life be summed up in a single paragraph? I could almost hear Bryce’s voice in my head as I read through the bio:

Born April 6, 1995, Claudia Belle is the only child of Nicholas & Isabelle Belle. She attended Portland High School and has excelled in English, yet her favorite subject is the arts; her hobbies included painting, drawing, and reading. Her favorite artists are Ralph Steadman, favorite writers Anne Rice, Chuck Palahniuk, Bret Easton Ellis, and Hunter Thompson. Her favorite color is red, favorite actor Johnny Depp, favorite music a variety of artists. She loves daisies and roses.

Claudia’s mother, Isabella Belle, whose own mother died at childbirth while giving birth to fraternal twins, Isabelle and her brother Christian, who were later put up for adoption and separated and their biological father was unknown. The Company records indicate Christian, Claudia’s uncle, joined the army at the tender age of 18 straight from high school and then was shipped to Iraq when the war started; he was in the front lines when it all came down. The Company has little information regarding his whereabouts after, and he is presumed to be dead.

There are brief school records of Christian, and the adopted family’s surname is Vega; no known files existed of the adopted family. The few photographs of Christian that The Company has are of high school portraits.

I clicked on a photo, and the picture was of a skinny kid with very dark hair and piercing dark eyes appeared, and another was of Christian in his military uniform; he was a grown muscular man with facial hair and a large cigar posing with an aka assault rifle. It appeared he had been serving in the military for a long time, and it was something that he apparently loved.

Nicholas Belle was a highly-respected man and CEO of a large financial firm. Not a lot is known of Mr. Belle or his business dealings, only that he worked with a large number of respected corporations.

I found it hard to believe that The Company had no further records on Nicholas Belle. My Google searches returned with ‘page no longer available’, and I began to wonder why. Especially if he’d been a very important businessman, you’d think there would be some kind of record about him somewhere. On the body of the email Bryce had sent, it read, “That’s all The Company has of Claudia Belle and her family. As I indicated before, she’s irrelevant and of no importance to you or The Company. I hope that I have satisfied your curiosity; now get to work. And please, no more questions regarding the Belles or anything else. That has nothing to do with your assignment.”

The information was somewhat of a tease of bitter news. What was I really expecting to find out about her or her abilities? It was, however, a relief that The Company had no idea of such things. But why did I sense there was more to know about Nicholas Belle, Claudia’s father; the smile on his face and those piercing eyes mocked me. Could he read minds like his daughter? Why did I know the answer already? The smile said it all.

“What are you hiding?” I whispered to his picture.

I reached into the other pocket, pulling out a strange small device; in fact, it almost resembled an ordinary watch but for the clear case and flashing lights upon the body. It looked fancy.

I could easily turn the head of the watch to change the patterns of the frequency. I called it the mind scrambler or mind manipulator; it interfered with mind waves to keep my thoughts from being read. I could program it to distort or project memories or thoughts that I wanted to forecast. The Company came up with all sorts of devices to stay ahead of the oddities, minders, mind readers, and manipulators. But I rarely used it. I was trained to conceal my thoughts, and I was one of the best.

I lifted the watch from my pocket and onto my wrist after reconsidering my last encounter with Miss Belle. A smile spread over my lips again.

Concentrate.

Had I made a grave mistake by not confessing my peculiar sickness to Bryce? No, he would only pull me from the mission. I needed to complete this. The money would be worth it. Afterwards, I’ll take a vacation or a much-needed CAT scan if necessary.

A knock at the office door startled me and I dropped the crystal and secured the watch on my wrist immediately as I called for whoever to enter.

Michael opened the door and found me emptying a box next to the desk.

“Dr. Black, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important,” Michael said, holding a briefcase in one hand and a notebook in the other. I often wondered if people still used briefcases. Apparently they did. I grinned, putting the box aside. The bell rang in the distance outside in the hallway, and I almost forgot what time of the day it was, or where I was, for that matter.

“I can see you’re still trying to get organized,” Michael said with a grin on his face.

“The last box is always the hardest,” I politely answered with a grin.

“So, how can I help you, Michael?” I closed the laptop on my desk.

“Well, I was just wondering if you would like to have dinner with us?” Michael politely asked.

“Us?” I asked, fully aware of whom Michael meant.

“Claudia and I,” He paused. “I figured we didn’t actually get off on the right foot this morning. And I think she feels bad. So I thought maybe you can have dinner at our house tonight?”

A smile spread over my face. The opportunity I had been waiting for presented itself to me. I would see her again.

“What time should I be there?” I asked.

18

Alexandra Burton

The last bell rang before she made it to the end of the hall. The halls were now deserted, and she was alone, emerging from the side corner. She heard steps approaching. It was probably the patrols; they always made their trips around this time of the day. Thomas had a new recruit by the name of Sam; he didn’t seem to know what he was doing.

But then, she thought the same of Thomas. How many times had it been now that she had gotten caught? Last time, she had been sent to Mr. Claypool’s office and he’d written her up for skipping. She had to be careful, two or more slips would make her parents meet with the principal, and she couldn’t afford to let that happen. The old lady she lived with had been more than generous to cover for her the last two times when Mr. Claypool said he would call her parents.

Alex recalled sitting in front of his desk, his face a mass of lines and wrinkles of disappointment. He had on a white shirt and black tie. Something about a man in a tie made her squirm, especially a good-looking man like Mr. Claypool who had a soft spot for his students. He always wanted to give her a chance, no matter how many times he had seen her. But it appeared he was slowly regretting it.

His blue eyes found hers. She smiled her best back at him; she had often gotten away with it by using that smile. But as she had mentioned, Mr. Claypool or Ed Harris as she had come to nickname him, was a softie.

“As much as I enjoy these little meeting of ours, I have to say this is really getting to be a bad habit. What is it, the third time this week?” Mr. Claypool asked, sitting back on his seat; he’d taken out his detention slips. Alex cringed, biting down on her lip. Not again, she thought.

“No, you can’t count the other time because I wasn’t skipping. I was late and Mr. Thomas always has it out for me. I tried to explain to him that I was going to the bathroom because…” She came a little closer. “Well…I had girl issues. You know…” She said, trying to get her point across, and it was more than obvious that she had when Mr. Claypool slightly blushed and tried to clear his throat, wanting to change the subject right away.

“Yes, I know…you mentioned that. But that doesn’t excuse you for all those other times.”

She lowered her head. “I guess not. But Mr. Claypool, I’m really trying. It’s just hard to concentrate with all that’s happened.” She looked up and did her best I’m sorry expression. She was good at that, or was it that he was a sucker for it?

“Oh, would you like me to talk to your mom? We can all have a sit-down and discuss this.” He made a movement to pick up the phone.

“Can I just come and talk to you? All I really need is someone to talk to. And you are a good listener, Mr. Claypool.” She warmly smiled as he put the phone down. He was a total sucker for the old damsel in distress routine.

“Well, I guess that wouldn’t hurt. But you must promise not to skip again. I know having to cope with your parents’ divorce is hard, but you’re strong, Alex, and with time you’ll be able to get past this. I know you will. And I want to see you graduate and succeed.”

She had mentioned her parents’ divorce a couple of times; you’d think it would have been worn out by now, but it was still working. Men were so easy to manipulate, especially these assistant principals. The easy part was pretending about the whole divorce and looking like a girl who didn’t know her place in the world. But she was far from that girl.

She turned the corner, and when the coast was clear, she raced across to the lockers near the stairwell. At first, she’d forgotten the combination; those things were so annoying. Remembering it finally, she pushed in the number, pulled open the lock, and opened the locker. She reached far into the back where she retrieved a small black pouch, and once she had it, she closed the locker and locked it.

At the end of the hall, she heard steps nearing again.

Damn, Thomas. Damn, Sam.

They were heading back this way; she was sure of it. If she got caught this time it was back to Mr. Claypool’s office or worse, Dr. Black.

She clearly remembered Mr. Claypool saying, “I don’t want to bring this to the attention of the principal.”

But the principal then was Dr. Edwards and not Dr. Black. And as much as she didn’t want to be in any principal’s office, it was Dr. Black she’d hoped to avoid; he’d always given her a strange vibe. The steps neared, so she hurried away, dashing across into the dark stairwell. She thought she was safe and began to slowly take a few steps up when she suddenly heard the footsteps hurrying behind.

“Shit!” She uttered under her breath, moving herself up the steps and nearly losing her footing. Her pursuers were at the bottom of the stairwell now. She could hear their feet stomping up the steps after her. She came from the stairwell and raced down the hall; her best chance was to hide in the bathroom, but then she double backed, finding she had made an error. The bathroom was in the other direction.

Too late, her pursuers were already at the top of the stairs; she would have to head in the other direction, perhaps down the outside and into the balcony area that led into the ROTC classes and tennis courts. She hoped no one was outside at this time of the day, or at least not near the balcony area of the hall. She looked at her watch as she neared the exit.

Alex couldn’t hear her pursuers; perhaps she had lost them. She rushed through the glass doors, finding the area empty. The ROTC students were back in class and the tennis courts were empty. She was alone and could escape down the end of the hall back into the other end of the building. But as she neared the entrance, she saw Thomas coming from around the corner, so she doubled backed in the direction from which she had come, pulling open the doors and ducking out of sight just in time.

“Shit!” She mumbled. Mr. Thomas’ trainee was heading in her direction down the hall. If they found her, it meant trouble. Not that she minded, but that only meant her parents would be called, and that was not going to go well with the old lady she was living with.

She clung to the black pouch in her hands, and the bracelet on her wrist began to glow a light blue.

“I know. I know,” she uttered as if she were talking to it.

The trainee’s steps got closer, and she was sure Mr. Thomas would appear at the other entrance and spot her any moment.

Then, the bell rang, and just like that, students poured out of the classes into the hallway; one had to push their way through the hordes. She joined them, following behind a huge jock and his buddies; the guy must have been well over six feet. She was surprised he didn’t have any facial hair yet.

Thomas finally came rushing in from the other end; school was out, so the hallways were much more crowded. The crowd swallowed Alex, and she managed to follow it out until she was able to dart into the other direction, away from her pursuers. Thomas’ trainee was looking all around, but neither one of them knew who they were looking for.

Alex managed to get down the stairwell leading to the exit near the cafeteria; from there, it was a straight shot past the parked line of yellow buses into the parking lot where her beat-up mustang awaited her. She took a deep breath.

"Let’s never do that again,” she whispered.

She drove off into the street. Before heading home, she stopped at the grocery store and got some bread, milk, turkey slices, and cheese. Of course, she didn't have any intentions of paying for any of these things, and she stuffed the items into her sack. She usually came to this small store because there were no cameras and no one ever paid her any attention. But she always bought something so they wouldn't grow suspicious, even if it was just a piece of gum.

She couldn’t pay even if she wanted to; she needed the last thirty dollars for gas. Alex managed to get out without gathering suspicion, but the store owner had his eyes on her and she hurried out after waving in his direction.

Her house was at the end of a dead-end street; it was a modest home, older but in decent condition. When she had first come to live here, the outside was clustered with old items and she helped make it more homely in any way she could. The old woman was in no condition to take care of things; besides, Alex had to earn her keep.

Alex opened the door, finding the old woman planted on the couch with a cup of English tea. Alex knew she could always find her there watching her soaps and talk shows.

"Oh, dear, when did you get in?" The old woman asked, finding Alex at the living room entrance. Alex sat beside her and put a hand over hers.

"Are you hungry?” She asked the old woman. “I brought us some sandwiches." The old woman smiled; her eyes were sad, and she seemed lost. She seemed to be forgetting who Alex was more often now. And at times, Alex found her staring at things, trying to remember how to use them or who the people in the pictures were that cluttered her coffee tables and mantle.

"That’s why I love you so much, Jesse,” she said, putting a cold wrinkled hand to Alex's cheek. “You’ve always been so caring."

Jesse was long dead; a single photo of a woman sat on the cluttered mantle a step away from them. The old woman hadn't stopped referring to Alex as Jesse. The photo was just as old as the rest of the house, and Jesse was most likely the old woman’s daughter. She had no other family and no one else that cared. No friends came to visit and no relatives came to care for her.

A single old friend had died a year earlier, and if not for Alex, the old woman would have ended up in a home where the old were always abandoned by their own. The old lady had no one now but her. With the little social security she got, she managed to make ends meet. Alex tried her best to make it last, stealing when she could, and skipping to check on her when she could. They took care of each other. Her part-time job at Hot Topic was one of the reasons she often skipped class. And it’s where she got most of her makeup.

"I'll make you something to eat. Would you like some more tea?”

The old woman smiled warmly but didn't say anything as Alex rose. Alex walked into the kitchen, pulling out a plate and knife; she emptied her bag with the items from the store that she had taken and put them on the counter.

"A young man came to the house today,” she heard the old woman say from the other room over the noise of the TV. Alex listened as she set the bread and slices of turkey down, and then she took the mayo and cheese out, also putting them on the counter.

"Oh?" Alex responded. Had the old woman had one of her dreams again? Sometimes she was confused by what she saw on the TV. Or maybe a salesman did stop by; did people still go door to door these days?

"He asked for Maya, but I told him he had the wrong house, that only my Jesse and I lived here.”

Alex froze, dropping the knife on the counter and poking her head from the kitchen entry. “Then he made me some tea, and we chatted a bit about the Roman history, and he just went on his way, but he was so polite. Such a strange man; he had the strangest eyes too..."

Alex slowly came out of the kitchen looking frightened, and her hands could hardly stop shaking. The old woman didn’t look back; she just kept her eyes on the TV as if she had never said a word.

"What did he want?" Alex asked as her lips began to quiver.

“He said the strangest things and talked a lot about the past. I don't remember,” the old woman said again, drifting away; the images on the TV were not enough to snap her back into reality.

“What did he look like?” Alex asked, although, she was regretting the question now, she had to know.

“Oh,” the old woman struggled, and her eyes wandered. Alex kneeled in front of her and put both hands on her knees, blocking the view of the TV.

"This is important. What did he look like?" She again asked.

The old woman looked at Alex. "What, dear? Who do you mean?"

Alex rose; she knew it was no use. The old woman's mind wasn't what it used to be when they had first met. She walked back into the kitchen, biting down on her lip. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to leave immediately but couldn’t get herself to leave the old woman alone. Who would care for her?

“No one,” she whispered; her hands were now trembling as she held the knife, and she put it down for a moment. She wanted to cry but she had to be strong. Could he have found her? Everything pointed to it. She poured water into a cup and added a tea bag. The old woman loved tea.

"Very strange man, very young, good looking. You would have liked him, Jesse," the old woman said again as if she had tapped into a region of her memory again. In fact, she was a light switch, one moment recalling what she had done twenty years ago, then forgetting her own name two minutes later.

Alex turned with the cup in her hand. "He had the strangest eyes; they were a strange color…like purple,” she said again and laughed. “Oh, that can't be right dear…purple eyes…I must have imagined it. But he was dressed like you, all in black…you would have liked him, Jesse dear."

Alex gasped and dropped the cup of tea, and it shattered before her feet. The old woman hadn’t heard the shattered cup; she was in la la land again, transfixed on the images on the TV as if they were real people.

Alex hurried and got the broom and dustpan from the pantry and cleaned up the mess. She then grabbed another cup from the cabinet and poured hot water into it, throwing a teabag inside. She started making her way into the living room area, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking; she was now hearing the old woman mumbling something she couldn’t quite understand. She often did that, like she was talking to someone not there. She placed the cup on the table next to the couch, and the old woman glanced over but only noticed the cup of tea. With a smile, she picked it up, blowing and taking tiny sips from the cup.

He had found her, and she didn't know how. But he had, and now he was probably lurking, waiting for his chance to grab her.

“Did you know that Romulus founded Roman? It is said that he and his twin brother were raised by wolves.” His voice found her even in her mind. “In his claim to power, he raided, abducted, and raped the village women.”

“And like him, you abducted me, and raped…”

He grabbed her chin; the word froze on her lips as he released and caressed her cheek. She feared him, not his lashing, but his ravenous lovemaking.

“How can I abduct my own wife? I’ve never raped my wife. I make passionate love to her,” he sneered; his lips were inviting, and she hated herself for thinking that.

“Wife?” She laughed. “I was never given the choice to be yours. And as for your passionate lovemaking, it’s nothing more than fucking. There’s no love involved.”

He pulled her closely, and their lips were inches from one another. Their bodies pressed tightly against one another.

“Maya, we’re going to have to do something about that dirty mouth of yours. But it’s the filth that comes out of that mouth that makes me want you so much!” He grimaced, and she trembled.

“Admit it, you like it as you say when I fuck you.”

Her body always betrayed her, and she melted in his arms, and she was the first to kiss him again. She hated herself for falling so easily.

Even now, she felt him and sensed him, the smell of him on her skin and hair. It was all she could breathe.

“Maya,” she heard his voice calling. “I need you…”

“Tell me you want me!” He ordered her as he forced her into his bed. She was under his spell; she wanted him inside her again.

Alex shook her head. No, she forced her lips to say. I won’t. Not this time. But she felt him on her, mounting her pale figure, his white body moving over her as he pinned her to the mattress with his defined form. He was inside her, ravaging her with his lovemaking, always a brutal lover. He loved to hear her scream, loved to hear her beg and moan. She was embarrassed to admit it, that she always loved it so well. But he was the only thing she had ever known since she was only seventeen.

She held her wrist, clutching the bracelet; it was glowing red, and the voice called again. The old woman never once glanced over at her; she was lost in the cup she held in her hands, watching The Bachelor on TV. She didn't understand that soon, she might not be around if the man were to return. She would have to leave. And she didn't want to.

Alex went into the kitchen and grabbed her bag; before leaving, she turned to look at the old woman. She was still drinking her tea and watching TV. She would be alright, Alex thought, and for now, she had to do something she had neglected to do for a long time. It was time to see her son before she lost the chance.

19

The Eerie Sound

It was late in the day, school had ended and Mr. Peterson was at his desk checking over the remaining items of his lesson plan. Clearing his desk, he prepared his lesson plan and after checking a few other items, he gathered the remainder of the pencils and loose pens into a cup at the edge of his desk. Doing so, he noticed the markings at the end of his desk and recalled Tina’s fingernail carving the end. He hadn’t even realized her nails were sharp enough to leave a marking. But they obviously had.

That girl was the devil, he thought. There was something unnatural about her. But then this whole school seemed to be something unnatural, how many times had he said that. And Dr. Edwards had never believed him, but then he wasn’t someone to be trusted. He obviously had the markings of something unnatural himself. And now, that granddaughter of his, she seemed just like an ordinary girl to the untrained eye, but he knew better. He could almost sense trouble and sense unnatural evil. And ever since Dr. Edwards made him take that cross off his wall, it seemed he no longer felt safe in his own class.

He felt over the cross dangling from his neck. His only comfort. Prayer was needed; these kids no longer had respect for adults. Prayer and school punishment was required. Nowadays, you couldn’t strike a child without having some kind of authorities at your doorstep sending you off to prison for doing so. Didn’t they see that discipline was the only chance of saving these kids and keeping them out of trouble and away from the devil’s path? If he was in charge, things would certainly change around here.

Mr. Peterson stopped what he was doing and looked towards the doorway of his class. The last student had cleared out a long time ago and it was later in the day, he should be on his way out but he wanted to make sure things would be ready for the following day. He was the only functional teacher left, and of that, he was certain. Perhaps the new principal would see that about him. He still hadn’t figured him out yet. He’d see where he fit in all this soon enough and make his conclusion about him. Maybe he was the change that this school needed.

Again, he looked up. He had clearly heard it this time. A sound coming from the hallway, what did it sound like, scratching? He rose, taking a few steps as he tried to make out the sounds. Some kid’s squeaky shoes, the janitor’s noisy cart making its rounds.

He put his lesson plan down and stepped towards the entrance of his class. He poked his head out, there it was again he looked both ways down the hallway to his left then immediately back to his right. The sounds stopped but there seemed to be an eerie, unnatural silence in the air.

He swallowed and moved back to the inside of his classroom. He believed it was time to go. He grabbed his lesson plan and reached into the lower drawer grabbing the keys among the clutter inside. Swiftly turning, he dropped the keys and quickly knelt down to retrieve them, but in the process, he dropped his lesson plan and the few loose papers scattered over the marble flooring in front of him and near the door of his classroom.

He carelessly reached for them, muttering nonsense to himself until he realized he was no longer alone. He once again heard that familiar sound coming from the entrance. As he slowly looked up, he saw her as clearly as he saw the paper under the step of her sneakers.

Tina? He now realized that it was her fingernail making the sound, a scratching sound. She smiled over at him, but it wasn’t a greeting.

20

Claudia

We arrived home a little later that afternoon; Michael had wanted to stop and pick up some groceries. As we entered the kitchen to put the groceries away, I noticed him slowly emptying the bag as though he had something on his mind. He almost looked distracted about something as he folded the bags and put them in the pantry for later use in an almost zombie-like state.

“So, Michael,” I asked, emptying the last plastic bags. “What do you have planned for tonight? These are a lot of groceries. Are you making your famous chicken casserole, or perhaps enchiladas?” I put the remaining items into the refrigerator. His silence became more, obvious as he slowly turned.

“I invited a guest over,” Michael announced without looking over at me. The guilt was obvious on his face. I was surprised I hadn’t even noticed it before; I read it as I had always done long before his lips betrayed him. Perhaps he had figured I would, and when I hadn’t, he decided it was time to speak.

“Who?” I asked. He didn’t have to say anything, for almost immediately I knew who he had invited.

“Dr. Black?” I finally replied myself.

“I invited Dr. Black for dinner,” he said smiling over my words. He cringed as I glared at him in disbelief, unable to speak or even react at that moment. That was the last person I would have thought of inviting to dinner. Not only had I insulted him, but also, well, the guy gave me the creeps.

“You didn’t?” I yelled at Michael. He tried to smile, failing miserably.

“I thought you would be happy,” he said to me.

Happy? Was he serious? He invited Dr. Black for dinner. Why would that make me happy?

“Why would you think that?” I snapped, storming out of the kitchen.

“Well, you guys did have had a bad intro,” he argued while following me out. “I was only trying to help. I told him you felt a little bad about what happened.”

I rolled my eyes back at him in disbelief. “You told him it was my idea?” I yelled and gasped in frustration, racing up the stairs.

“Claudia, what’s the big deal?” He called out. I screamed in frustration, when he said that.

21

Dr. John Black

After Michael left my office, I gathered my things while considering my earlier discussion with Bryce and my uneasiness and unsettling attractions with Miss. Belle. Although I denied it was an attraction but more like a distraction as Bryce had described it. Either that or I was going insane. I also concluded perhaps there was a possible chemical link influencing my behavior patterns? That was always a very strong possibility.

Maybe there was a reason Bryce had interrogated me so boldly, asking whether I had more information that would interest him. Perhaps he already knew?

I grabbed the keys from the top center drawer and locked the briefcase after securing my laptop inside.

Why had I so immediately accepted dinner? Not only had I done so but I hadn’t even thought about it. I just automatically jumped at the invitation. This wasn’t only a bad idea because I was on a mission, but also because I was trying to keep my mind clear. Did Miss Belle also have the ability to manipulate strong-willed minds like my own? Had I underestimated her? But then, why hadn’t this manipulator worked if that was the case? So many questions and I had neither the time nor the answers. I was supposed to be working, not pondering my emotions and confusions as to why things were suddenly making no sense to me.

So, when it happened, when the light of the center of my fancy watch began to flash, I didn’t immediately run out of the office. In fact, I was closing the office door when the watch blinked slightly, going off like an alarm clock until I glanced down and realized what was happening.

At once, I dashed out with the briefcase in hand coming out into the empty hallway and looking at the watch as I silenced it. The movements were coming from the second floor; I hadn’t yet placed the other devices in the cafeteria, so it could only mean the second-floor devices were being activated by it.

I took the stairwell closest to the library to my right in this case and ducked up the dark staircase. Slowly, I opened the briefcase, jerking it slightly and pressing a single button near the handle. It opened a different compartment, and from within, a secured Desert Eagle awaited my slender fingertips.

I gripped it, feeling the steel on my full palm and lifted it away easily. But I quickly realized where I was. Of course, my first reaction was to ignore such things. What did it matter? But Bryce’s voice was mocking from some area of my head to play the part; meaning at this point, no weapons to be used, at least not here. I secured the Desert Eagle back into the briefcase and closed it and reached for the only thing that could lead me to its location.

With the crystal strongly in my grip, I moved forward to the top of the staircase. Above, I could see my circular devices blinking slightly. No human or animal could have activated the device. It didn’t work like that.

There was some relief in me; the mission would end once I secured it. Some, I say, because there was that strange sensation within that was now pulsating through my blood. It was distracting and confusing because it felt like a part of me I had only now discovered. I couldn’t understand it, just as I couldn’t explain the feelings or emotions that engulfed me so suddenly and abruptly. I didn’t understand and I didn’t want to.

You fear the truth.

“I fear nothing,” my voiced whispered.

And I knew it was he, but how? How had I known it was he?

Just as I had sensed him in Chicago; just as I had led the team into the abandoned school building, I sensed him now. I wanted to deny that I did. Just as I had denied it then; even when I denied it to Bryce.

You fear the truth.

Did he sense me as I sensed it? Impossible, and why so hastily did I want to deny that perhaps it was possible.

Because I’m not some kind of freak; he’s fucking with me.

I walked into the hallway, the watch was silent with the crystal blinking and glowing on my palm. Turning colors, first a pale yellow, then a pale blue, but the colors were growing darker with each of my steps. I now stood in the same area where I had first planted the devices; two each side were different hallways leading in different directions. In front of me was the other hall which had the stairwell that led into the hall between the cafeteria and the main office. The crystal was now a dark shade of blue. I had never known the crystal’s purpose; all I knew was that it was some kind of road map, a guide if you will let it. I moved to my left but the crystal seemed to fade slightly. I came back in the other direction and the crystal darkened. It was only when I kept moving towards the opposite direction that it began to fade again. So, if left or right wasn’t the way, then the hallway facing me was the correct direction.

I came back to stand at the entrance of the stairwell facing the hallway before me. At once, I felt it. A source of feelings engulfed me, hitting me right in the center of the chest. I lost my hold of the crystal as I fell back against on the wall. I know it sounded crazy, but now, as I stood here, I felt that same attraction that these feelings and these sensations weren’t foreign to me at all. But how could that be?

It wasn’t the mere feeling but the strength and overall overwhelming feeling of a connection. Yes, that was the feeling I had felt when I first met Miss Belle, the feeling of having known her before I had ever met her. But not only to have known her, but also to feel her, to be connected to her in some strange manner, as I was connected to this other.

As I tried to regain my composure, I reached to retrieve the crystal from the ground, at once, it flew across the marble floor away from my hand. As I looked up, a hand grabbed my throat and pushed me against the locker walls before lifting me slightly, a few inches off the ground.

Two dark eyes pierced through my soul from the pale face of a young man, dressed in a leather scaly uniform. For a brief moment, I couldn’t move, merely paralyzed by the dark swirls in his eyes.

“Project X!” I merely uttered, unable to move, in fact, he had me in a strong grip and I couldn’t move a single muscle.

“What are you?” he hissed, staring at me strangely like I was something foreign to him. He examined me like a child examined a new toy.

“And why do I feel you----as I feel my dear Patricia?”

Who was Patricia---and why did it sound more like he was saying Pet-tricia?

“Who are you!” he yelled dropping me to the ground. I fell hard on the floor, but immediately got up and grabbed for the crystal a distance from me, only to realize I was alone.

What the fuck? I said as I stumbled forward with the crystal held tightly in my grip. The hallway seemed darker at this end, only the crystal now seemed to light my way but its color had turned a blood red. Ahead, the dimming sunlight penetrated out of the door window, creating a path in the hall.

I hurried forward hearing sounds coming from the classroom ahead, and rushing forward, I grabbed at the door handle and flung the door open and stood at the doorway staring at an empty classroom except for a student and a teacher who was seated at a desk. He slowly turned to look at me narrowing his large round eyes over at me, removing his glasses and dropping them on the center of his desk.

“Can I help you?” he asked. I gasped, and at that point, I meant to say all that was wrong here. Why hadn’t anyone come out to see if something was happening? Hadn’t they heard Project X’s penetrating voice in the hallway? But I just stood there taking in all that I was seeing. The kid, a young girl with floppy curls and square-framed glasses stared briefly back at me, chewing a piece of gum while she wrote something in a notebook. She smirked and swung her feet underneath her like a young child.

The crystal’s color turned pale and noticing this, I dropped it into my pocket.

“Dr. John Black, I presume?” The teacher said as he came forward offering me his hand, and we shook hands.

“Working late, Mr.?”

“Peterson.” He offered. “Yes,” he smirked wrinkling a brow then looking over his shoulder at the student who was scribbling in her notebook.

“Detention, sir.”

“I see.” I said looking over at the girl who seemed to be around Miss Belle’s age. Now, why did she come into my thoughts so suddenly?

“I see you are doing the same this evening, Dr. Black. Anything I can help you with? Or are you just checking up on us?” he simply said; which wouldn’t have sounded strange except for the last sentence and the tone of his voice.

“No, I was just walking around. Didn’t realize there were still any teachers left in the building at this hour.” I merely said, no insult intended.

“Well, unlike the administrators, Dr. Black, teachers are far more devoted. So, we do tend to stay a little past closing hours”—he grinned, then spun his head back.

“I hope you are concentrating on finishing that assignment and not concentrating on eavesdropping Ms. Watkins.” The girl gasped, then rolled her eyes and turned back to the notebook in front of her.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, Dr. Black. I have to be getting back to work.” He said and simply closed the door in my face. Okay, that was new, I was usually the one closing doors on others.

At the doorway, I watched Mr. Peterson take his seat behind his desk then, only when he looked back up at the doorway, did I decide to move on my way. What a rude little man. If I had the time, I would give him a piece of my mind but as I looked at my watch, I realized I was late for dinner.

How can you think of dinner now, especially after what we had just witnessed?

Perhaps, it is because I’m playing a role.

I wandered to the first floor after retrieving the briefcase I had left by the stairwell and headed to the cafeteria. There, I planted the remaining devices and then headed to my car.

Inside Mr. Peterson’s classroom, Tina sat up, looking straight ahead at Mr. Peterson, who was now sitting himself up straight but with his eyes rolled to the back of his head. His head flopped back then forward as Tina began to giggle behind the palm of her hand.

At last, Mr. Peterson’s head fell forward and hit the desk hard, with that, he lifted his head and opened his mouth wide. A black vaporous cloud of smoke emerged from his mouth. The cloud floated over the desk then to the other end.

Tina was over joyous as the vapor formed a figure before the teacher’s collapsed form. Tina rose and kneeled before the figure. The clouded vapors formed the well-defined features of a youthful yet handsome man, with matted dark locks of hair and a white complexion dressed in a scaly leather uniform.

“It’s time to reveal myself to her.” The figure said. “It’s time I reunited with my wife.”

22

Dr. John Black

After what had just happened, I was surprised I could think of nothing else but the dinner I had so quickly accepted at Mr. McClellan’s house. Running into Project X so fast into the mission seemed reassuring. But perhaps the best clue was his words. The name Patricia, that had sounded more like Pet-tricia. Now I was intrigued, find her and I get him. But who was she, and what did he want with her? Bryce had never mentioned anything about another, let alone someone named Pet-tricia?

I looked into the mirror and brushed back a few strands of my hair.

I have a date, I said to the handsome man in the mirror with bright green eyes.

But that wasn’t the truth, of course. I had dinner plans with Michael and Claudia, so maybe perhaps there was some truth to it, but not a date as I had very much wanted it to be. I took off the suit jacket and tie; it was a casual dinner, not a romantic table for two, despite what I wanted.

John, stop it. I was finding it harder to stop.

You look handsome, Mr. Slater, I mean, Dr. Black. I wished Claudia would say that to me. I made her nervous, and with other women I knew why. Was it for the same reason with her? I must have embarrassed her the last time.

I can’t just talk to her like that. What the hell was I thinking? God, but it was so hard to control my emotions now, to control what I was feeling, especially after the incident with Project X. But why? And I couldn’t deny them, especially as they had come out in full force.

But she’s not one of your whores, John. You can’t talk to her like that.

Before leaving, I grabbed my keys from the table near the entrance, and I pulled off the ADA ring from my finger and dropped it into the drawer by the table. I had to stop wearing it, at least for the majority of the mission. I couldn’t make a mistake in anyone seeing it. There would be questions and perhaps a few I wouldn’t be able to answer. Let’s just say it didn’t look like any class ring.

After one last look in the mirror by the door, I was off. I decided to stop by the store for a nice bottle of red wine of Concannon Crimson & Clover, one of my favorite red wines. It would only be polite to bring something to dinner. How disappointing she couldn’t join me for a glass. I wanted to share all my likes with her. I was torturing myself again and again with these thoughts.

I drove up the street and found the house fairly easily. The neighborhood, I must say, was very nice and family-like, a place you would like to raise your children. Kids, I hadn’t ever given them much of a thought until now as I saw families walking their dogs in the early hours of the evening.

They looked peaceful; a couple walked past my car holding hands and walking their German shepherd. Their kids were not far behind, playing and following their parents. It was a family outing, I assumed. Could I see myself doing that someday? Perhaps with the right woman. I had dreamed once of a family, but I was never able to picture it clearly, not until now. I turned to the house. It was a modest two-story little house with a well-kept lawn and large bushes at each side of the stairs leading to the doorway.

There was no picket white fence, just a nice little trail leading to the front door of the entrance. I jumped out of the car, taking the bottle of red wine from the front seat. I removed it from the paper bag and looked over my jacket for any noticeable flaws.

“Perfect,” I uttered to myself and began to walk slowly along the trail and up the steps until I was standing on the porch of the house, facing the door. There were plots of beautiful daisies decorating the windows; the house was painted in a pastel green with white trimmings. The large windows had no curtains that I could see from the outside, but instead, wooden white blinds covered half of the windows; these allowed an abundance of natural light inside.

It sure was a beautiful house. I would have been glad to have raise children in it. Slater with children? I thought, as I grinned and pushed the doorbell. A few seconds passed, and I rang it again. Of course, children with the right girl wouldn’t be so…

I saw Miss Belle through the glass of the door and waved, but she merely gazed at me as she very slowly dragged herself to the entrance of the house.

The door opened, and Claudia stood there, her dark brown eyes staring up at me.

23

Claudia

I was in my bedroom when I heard the doorbell ring. I still couldn’t believe Michael had invited Dr. Black over to dinner. I figured I’d stay in my room and hide at least for a while. But then the doorbell rang.

“Michael, someone’s at the door," I yelled from inside my bedroom, but Michael didn’t answer. I came to the entrance of my room and poked my head out, looking down the staircase, and I spotted Dr. Black through the glass of our door. I called for Michael again. His bedroom was just at the other end of the hallway. I knocked and called out to him.

“Michael, someone’s at the door,” I repeated. There was no way I was going to get the door. This was Michael’s guest, not mine.

"Claudia, will you get that?" Michael said through the door as my hand stopped midway from knocking a second time. Frowning, I slowly walked over to the top of the stairs, glaring down the staircase in sneered regret.

“Come on,” I heard his voice from behind the doorway. Perhaps he had sensed my dislike or hesitation.

“He’s not gonna bite,” Michael said again; there seemed to be humor in the sound of his voice, and I wrinkled a lip.

“Michael, you owe me,” I shot back, and with a frown, I slowly made my way down the steps.

“I mean it,” I said again as I heard his laughter from behind the doorway. Then he stepped out and gave me a glance; he was adjusting a tie as I turned to look back at him.

"What do you think?" Michael asked regarding the tie.

"Lose the tie," I suggested with a smile. "You’re not going on a date with him, Michael."

He frowned, darting his eyes towards the doorway when the doorbell rang again. Then he took the tie off and headed back into his bedroom.

I dragged myself towards the door, seeing Dr. Black’s face through the glass part of the doorframe. He waved as I tried hard to be on my best behavior.

"Hello, Miss Belle. How are you?” He asked as I opened the door and just stood there, glaring at him in utter silence like he was a salesman trying to sell me a useless vacuum cleaner.

24

Dr. John Black

I gasped as I saw her; she was as lovely as always, wearing a cute purple fitted top, a pair of blue jeans, and plain black dress shoes. Her hair always hung loosely, and a little lip-gloss stained her pretty lips; she wore no other makeup that I could see. But she was beautiful without it. I felt uncomfortable right away, unable to control or identify my connection, my link to her and Project X. What was the meaning of it?

“I hope I’m not late.” I said.

She seemed to try very hard not to look up at me. Of course I wasn’t late, her expression seemed to say when she finally gave me one. Perhaps it was a ridiculous thing to say, but I was so distracted by her that nothing I thought or said seemed to make sense. She managed a half-smile, looking slightly up at me.

“I brought some red wine. I hope it’s appropriate for the dinner.” I said with a smile.

“I guess,” she whispered, sounding uninterested. “I don’t drink, Dr. Black,” she said with a slight frown on her face.

“Of course not,” I politely grinned. “I meant for Michael and I,” I answered again, sounding slightly ridiculous. God, what was wrong with me? She even had me stumbling on my own words like a childish boy.

“Please, call me John,” I offered, wanting to hear my name from her lips.

“Michael!” Claudia yelled towards the upstairs. “Dr. Black is here!” She stared back at me with a defiant expression. Perhaps she wasn’t as submissive as I had thought.

Then she lowered her eyes to me, and I knew that it wasn’t entirely true, but she was merely annoyed by me. I wanted to laugh. I annoyed her? That was a first: John Slater annoys a woman. And it didn’t surprise me that I liked it.

“I really appreciate your invitation to dinner,” I said, just being charming. The honest truth was that I’d been thinking about her all day. I hadn’t planned on it. I didn’t want to but now I couldn’t stop or resist staring into her deep brown eyes.

She seemed to want to object, but instead, she stayed silent, standing speechless at the entry, politely nodding.

“May I come in?” I finally asked, and she moved aside and allowed me in.

25

Claudia

Dr. Black was dressed in a blue suit jacket with a black shirt that opened slightly at the collar and a pair of dark slacks and shining shoes. He wasn’t wearing a tie. His honey brown hair was well brushed and groomed, slightly long but pushed back neatly with mousse or some kind of gel.

I hated to admit it, but he looked quite handsome standing there holding a bottle of red wine; it was hard not to feel intimidated by his presence and obvious superiority. I cursed Alex for putting such crazy observations into my head. Now I couldn’t even look at the man without blushing or feeling ill with nerves. Just standing before him was nerve-racking enough.

“Michael should be down shortly,” I said, feeling my lip quivered as we stood together at the entrance in awkward silence.

“Such a large house for just you and Michael,” Dr. Black said in observation, looking around.

“It was my grandfather’s,” I answered, avoiding his eyes.

"I see. So,” he began. "Claudia; let me begin by saying that if I offended you in any way, please know that it wasn’t my intention to do so.”

Oh, why did he have to say that to me? He was making me feel nervous and stupid for assuming he had been insulting me. I slowly gazed up at him with difficulty.

“Please forgive me,” he softly said and I nodded with simplicity, unable to part my lips to speak. “So, how are you doing?” He asked, still holding the bottle of red wine in his hand, not sure where to put it, but he seemed to be too focused on me to worry about much of anything.

“Good," I softly whispered, unable to offer anything else, biting hard on my lip to the point that it actually hurt.

“That’s great. I’m happy to hear that.” He grinned, and I tried to return the smile but failed miserably. The silence deepened, and I prayed Michael would hurry.

“Things will get better. I promise you,” he paused. “It may not seem like that now, but it will,” he said with a warm and reassuring expression.

“Michael tells me you love to paint. What else do you like to do?” Dr. Black politely asked.

Why did he care? Perhaps he was just making conversation. Either way, his thoughts were blank this evening, but then, I didn’t want to venture into the unknown region of his mind as I had done before, since it had proven pointless.

26

Dr. John Black

Of course, I already knew what she liked, her talents as an artist, her favorite writers and painters. I already knew the fact that her favorite flowers were daisies and roses, and that her favorite color was red. I should have worn my only red tie this evening.

Michael finally came down and she seemed to be thankful to see him, perhaps hoping not to have to answer any more of Slater’s pointless questions. I just wanted to know her.

"Dr. Black, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," Michael said politely as he came down the steps.

"Nonsense, Michael. I had the best company," I said, smiling over at Claudia. She smiled back with difficulty.

“Shall we?” Michael asked, directing us into the dining room.

“I brought this bottle of red wine. I hope that it will complement the occasion,” I politely said.

“I’m sure it will,” Michael responded. “Thank you.”

27

Claudia

Michael took the bottle as Dr. Black walked ahead of us into the dining room. Complement the occasion? Who talks like that? Michael turned to me and seemed to be asking me the same question.

“This really wasn’t necessary,” Michael politely answered.

“It was the least I could do,” Dr. Black replied, taking off his jacket. I couldn’t help noticing his built figure beneath the black shirt he wore, and I was so busy looking that I didn’t even hear Michael when he called me over. It was only when I snapped out of it that I hurried forward, hoping he didn’t notice where my eyes had been just briefly.

Again, I cursed Alex.

We stepped into the dining room; Dr. Black pulled out a chair for me. I meant to sit on the other end, but Michael motioned for me to take it. He didn’t want me to be rude, so I took the seat reluctantly. My grandfather’s dining table wasn’t very long, and with Michael at the end of the table, Dr. Black took a seat opposite, facing me.

Before his arrival, I had set the table while Michael prepared the feast. He had made a chicken casserole with buttered bread, green beans, corn, mashed potatoes, and gravy. And for dessert, he’d made a delicious apple pie. Michael was surprisingly quite the chef.

Dr. Black did his part by opening the bottle of red wine that he brought with him; he then poured Michael a glass, and then himself. I had my glass of lemonade that Michael had previously prepared for me. During dinner, I darted my attention elsewhere, perhaps thinking of the others and Alex’s little quarrel. Michael and Dr. Black were busy talking about school and things of that nature. I listened to a bit of their conversation; Dr. Black asking Michael about his brief period as principal. It seemed he wanted feedback on how he had handled certain things. Michael seemed happy to offer his help.

But as I picked at the food on my plate, I couldn’t help but feel I was being watched. Why did I feel like Dr. Black’s eyes were always on me when I looked up, like he was observing me? When I looked up at him, I caught his gaze on me more than once. He merely smiled and darted his eyes in the other direction, taking slow sips from his glass of red wine. Michael stepped over to the kitchen, and we were briefly alone. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but when I listened in, I only got distorted static.

28

Dr. John Black

She tried again to read my thoughts. My long stares during dinner had made her curious and uncomfortable, but the wine had somehow loosened John Slater and made him arrogant and daring once again. My desires were hard to keep in check; if anyone here truly knew me, they would see it, the hunger burning in John Slater’s eyes.

I was on fire, and it wasn’t from the wine’s smooth texture falling down the back of my throat. But the emotions, the sensations, and the connection that now vibrated in my soul. Did I want to convince myself I was under some cruel spell, a spell or a poison put in place by Project X?

I could feel her, her mind searching my head for the reason my eyes kept finding her, observing her, and taking her in. She was naive of what darkness lurked in my mind, and if I dared to tell her, I would be a bigger fool. I would scare her, and I didn’t want that.

So, perhaps it was my intoxication, my arousal, or perhaps even my stupidity that I did what I did. I merely looked over at her directly, and at once, she knew that I knew what she was attempting to do. I wanted her to know all of my thoughts. If I could, I would say run baby, run and don’t stop running from me. But no matter where you run, I will always catch you. Because that’s what I did, and God knows I wanted to. You wouldn’t be able to escape me. But you can try; you could try to run, but it would do you no good because I’m the best.

“You know, it’s quite rude to try to read someone else’s mind without their permission,” I mentally said, allowing her to read my message to her, and immediately she lowered her gaze, unsure of what she had heard.

She bravely and doubtfully glared right at me. I grinned, almost laughing as I saw the fear in her eyes. I didn’t want to scare her, but I had.

Michael stepped into the dining room with three plates when Claudia rose from her chair and said, “I’m going to bed.”

“Now?” Michael asked. “But honey, we’re just about to have pie.”

“Oh,” I said. “Are you okay, my dear?”

“Yes,” Claudia said, trembling and glaring over at me, but my smile had vanished. I had not wanted to spook her, and I blamed the wine for my arrogance.

“I hope it wasn’t anything I might have said,” I said, but it was of course; there I went again. Claudia glanced at me in disbelief as I rose from my seat politely.

“No, I’m just tired. And it’s a school night. I should really get to bed,” she said yawning and slowly taking a step back. I wanted to apologize. I didn’t want her to leave. But she was desperate to get away from me. I scared her when my intentions had been to do the complete opposite.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Michael asked. Claudia nodded, wanting to get away.

As she made her escape, I called over to her and said, “Have a good night, Miss Belle, and see you tomorrow.”

29

Claudia

It wasn’t the words that came from his lips that frightened me or startled me in the first place as I now hurried up the stairs. It was the fact that he knew what I could do. I realized this with dread and anticipation.

I slammed the door to my bedroom as I tried to reanalyze what had just happened downstairs. He knew what I tried to do. Dr. Black knew, but could he read my mind as I had attempted to read his?

I must have sat in the dark for an hour before I heard the front door open and then nothing. Finally, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and fearing they were Dr. Black’s, I jumped under the covers like a scared little child hoping the boogieman wouldn’t find her hiding.

I peered from underneath the sheets and clearly saw a shadow stop outside my door. For a minute, it remained, probably contemplating whether or not to enter. Then finally, it disappeared and I heard another door at the end of the hallway open. The hallway went dark, and a door closed behind. Throwing the sheets back, I realized childishly that it had only been Michael, and as I lay there, I watched a breeze push back the curtains, allowing a cool scent of pine into my room.

For a long moment, I laid there watching the curtain move, catching a few stars through the visible night sky. Maybe I wasn’t as special or as different as I had suspected. Maybe there were more people out there that could read minds and move things with their thoughts than I had thought. And perhaps Dr. Black was one of those people. Perhaps he was here to guide me. Maybe he knew things I didn’t know about the rest of us. I mean, there had to be many more of us, maybe a whole clan of people that could do these things, like the Jedis in Star Wars.

What if there was a whole colony of us somewhere? Maybe that’s what my grandfather was trying to tell me. And perhaps, if that was so, I wouldn’t be alone anymore. I could learn from them. I could learn from the clan of mind readers and be among others like myself. These thoughts alone excited me, and for a while I couldn’t sleep, but then my eyes became heavy, and I eventually drifted to sleep.

30

The Mysterious Quentin

Claudia

I found myself running through the hallways; something evil was chasing me. And I could sense it coming closer and closer. And no matter where I went, it was there in the shadows. It looked like a runny pen, ink washing all over the hallways and emerging from every crack on the floor.

It was dripping down from everywhere I looked, on the walls and from the pipes. It was reaching for me from every direction. I knew it wouldn’t stop until it had me, and everywhere I ran, it was close behind, lurking and reaching from the walls themselves to snatch me like a fairy tale monster. Even the pipes told me of its approach, and I kept running, trying to escape, but there was no escape and no place to run.

The halls extended in front of me, long and endless, and I knew there was no place to hide; its hands reached forward trying to grab me. And I felt its long, bony fingers reach out and take hold of my arm. I screamed, but when I faced him, it was my young rescuer’s face I saw instead. He smiled at me, and the warmth I felt once again consumed me. I felt protected and safe. He took me in his arms and held me, and he exhaled, pressing me closely and tightly into his embrace:

“You are safe now, my pet,” he whispered, petting my head gently.

I opened my eyes suddenly to find a figure sitting on the ledge of my window. My first reaction was to scream, but the scream slowly faded within my throat as I realized there was no reason to fear the form.

“He was here,” I thought. He was finally here.

“It was you that day, wasn’t it?” I made myself ask, nervously wondering with sheer curiosity what he would say. The shadows of the room obscured his face, but I could sense it was him.

He leaned forward slowly, and his face came into view through the moonlight, which made his matted coal hair glimmer along with his ghostly, beautiful well-structured face.

“Yes,” he merely answered, and a grin appeared upon his handsome face.

“I must apologize,” he suddenly said as he sat in the darkness on the window ledge. I sat up on the bed unable to say a word. I felt uneasy but happy because he was real, and he had come. I wasn’t crazy. As much as I had wished, I wondered if it had been my longing that brought him out from wherever he had been.

“For what?” I made myself ask, feeling my lips tremble when I spoke.

“For not coming sooner when you needed me.” He leaped from off of the window ledge and slowly moved into the room; the moonlight revealed his face again, and his well-defined form emerged out of the shadows. He was dressed in what appeared to be a scaly black two-piece jumpsuit; a small portion of his shoulders were purple.

“I don’t understand,” I said, moving to the foot of the bed. “You stopped it, whatever it was.” My lips froze, knowing well I didn’t understand what it meant to do. Or did I?

The figure’s face flashed in my mind as I recalled him looking into the mirror, and its reflection startled me even now.

My rescuer lowered his head and dropped onto his knees at the foot of the bed. Then, he slowly gazed up at me.

I could feel his sadness; his large purple eyes overwhelmed me with excitement. And I knew he was genuinely sorry for what had happened, although, I didn’t understand the full extent of what had happened or why. Nevertheless, I was happy to see him again.

The yearning growing inside of me ever since our first meeting could not be quenched. And now that he was here, I wanted to know him, to breathe him, and to be near him. But why did I feel so overly attracted to a stranger? The truth was, that he wasn’t a stranger at all to me, and his eyes seemed to say the same thing as they found me in the darkness of the room.

“No, I failed you, and for that I apologize,” he said again, dropping his head down. I extended my hand hoping to feel his face and stopped only when his eyes glanced up at me again, broken and sad but beautiful and mysterious; I longed to know the young man behind them.

“You saved me,” I whispered, my voice shaking as the words left my lips. He rose immediately, pulling away, and he came to stand by the window again with the moonlight glowing from his face. And from there, he examined me with a superior wisdom I had not seen in anyone else before.

“What was it?” I asked nervously, referring to the dark figure, the man in the black suit and red tie. And yet, I had no doubt I already knew the answer.

Death.

He didn’t answer immediately; his eyes only danced over at me with an all-knowing cunning that both frightened and lured me to him.

Then he said, “Unfortunately, we need death. A direction for souls is the only order. Distribution of the sources, the energies, who else would know it well but a being?” He paused; the thought seemed to distract him for a moment. “Without order, there is only chaos."

“Who are you?” I softly whispered, intoxicated by his presence. I couldn’t understand it.

I rose from the bed and stood mere steps from him, staring into his deep hypnotic eyes, feeling my face grow warm. These words had no meaning at all to me as he came a step closer, drawing me in with his simple stare. His beautiful purple eyes sparkled like clusters of light, all dancing at once. I couldn’t move, and all I could think of was being with him; each step he drew closer and closer. And I knew almost immediately what he knew. But how?

He pulled away from me, leaping up onto the window ledge again. I felt a spell had been lifted, and I was now able to speak. But I couldn’t remember what I’d meant to say. Yet, I knew his name when I hadn’t before.

Quentin, I heard it in my head.

“What’s happening?” I uttered, feeling myself shaking, feeling my lip quiver slightly as the very words came from them.

“How is this possible?” And then finally, the very words that I longed to speak stumbled out in a breath. But I already knew, so why was I resisting the obvious?

“Anything is possible,” his voice said while glaring at me as if I were some ignorant fool.

“Come. I want to show you something.” Quentin beckoned me, extending his hand out.

I hesitated, looking back at my room as if the mere objects would miss me, but more so, wondering if Michael had heard anything.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said again; his eyebrows lifted, giving me that all-knowing look once more.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I firmly stated.

"Then take my hand,” Quentin challenged, extending a hand out to me from his place on the ledge. It was the same as he had done before back in the pool area, but this time, it was my choice.

"Trust me," he said with a tender smile. "Take my hand. I want to show you something wonderful."

Still with a slight hesitation, I took his hand and he wrinkled an eyebrow as our bodies came within inches of each other.

"Don’t you trust me, my pet?" Quentin whispered into my ear softly; I immediately pulled away and glared at him in mere shock.

I could feel myself shaking, surprised by my own voice when I heard myself say, "Yes."

How couldn’t I? He had saved me! Why would he hurt me?

But before the word could leave my lips, I exhaled, closing my eyes, feeling my stomach sink, and a tiny scream almost escaped my lips, but when I opened my eyes, we were in the sky. The drop had left me breathless, and my heart filled with adrenaline. I couldn’t control the sensation that overwhelmed my entire being. The air blew through my hair as Quentin held me close beside him; his eyes were smiling down at me as he again said, "Hold on."

I felt his grip tighten as we began to move faster, and I closed my eyes when I couldn’t see anything but a bright light consume us entirely. Then, as quickly as it had all happened, I felt the peace around us, and when I opened my eyes, we were standing on a beach, the white sand gathering at my feet. The blue skies above were filled with flying seagulls. How was this possible? Behind us, just at the horizon, a large and vast blue ocean expanded as far as the eye could see. I exhaled the breath I had held before our arrival. In fact, I couldn't contain my excitement.

"How did you do that? This is amazing! Where are we?" I gasped and raced to the end where the sand met the blue water. I looked like a crazy, infatuated girl.

"This is my world; this is Demos. Here I can do anything I want,” he answered arrogantly, standing on the sand and raising his arms to the sky.

I raced into the water until it was up to my waist, looking far into the ocean and wishing to go further, to explore the beauty before me. All around me was a wonder of colors, jungles, and tall green plants. There was a landscape of mountains in the distance, birds of all colors flying above us, and mixed sounds of the animal life in the greenery far away.

I felt I never wanted to leave.

There was a single splash behind me, and I spun around to see a tail fin wagging in the air before disappearing. I moved back and it appeared again, this time closer. Then again, something moved behind me and I whirled around only to catch sight of a woman’s face in the clear ocean water. I nearly fell back, but a hand grabbed me before I lost my balance. And soon I realized I was staring at the face of a beautiful woman with red burning hair and a fishtail fin. She was obviously a woman, except for the lower part of her. Her upper body, her breasts were hidden behind the long burning locks of her hair. Amazed and paralyzed by her, I couldn’t move, catching myself staring at her tail fin more than anything else.

The only words that could come out from my mouth were, “You’re a…you’re a….”

And then nothing else.

I felt stupid, immediately putting my hand over my mouth to stop me from speaking.

“Sorry I scared you, miss,” she softly whispered. “But I just had to come to see you,” she said, overly excited. Then she yelled back to no one I could see, “It is she!”

I stared at her curious and confused, unable to move back. Behind us from a distance, a few heads appeared out of the blue water to gawk at me.

“To see me?” I whispered, and just like that, something seemed to frighten her, and she jumped into the water and disappeared.

“Wait!” I called out to her; she emerged again, but not because of me. Quentin hovered above us. He startled me as he came down, nearly standing on the water. In fact, he was kneeling down in a sitting pose, motioning the woman back.

“Say hello, Selena,” he whispered to the mermaid, and she lowered her head, but it was not her whom he was referring to. I soon realized it when another woman emerged behind the red-haired one. She was very beautiful. She rose from the waters and her long blonde hair covered her neckline. She smiled and bowed to Quentin with great respect.

“Greetings, mighty one,” she said to him and then looked at me, examining me in an unusual manner.

“Say hello, Selena,” Quentin firmly repeated.

“Greetings, miss; it is an honor to finally meet you.” She bowed her head to me as she did her companion, and many others emerged and bowed as well. Mesmerized, I looked about unable to speak.

“We’ve heard—” She started to say before Quentin cut her off.

“So, what do you think?” Quentin asked her with a clever smirk on his face.

“She is beautiful, mighty one,” Selena answered Quentin, glaring at me with eyes so angry one could sense the hate in them. I blushed at her words and all their stares. Why did it matter what they thought?

“You found her just as you said you would.” she whispered again but looked slightly disappointed.

Quentin merely laughed, and her growl seemed to go unnoticed by him.

“This is unbelievable,” I uttered like a foolish child.

“Not in my world,” Quentin said, staring deeply into my eyes. I felt he was enjoying my curiosity but more so my innocence.

“They’re so beautiful,” I whispered in reference to the many women glaring at us. The blonde mermaid called Selena wrinkled a frown as she boldly came forward.

“You’re beautiful,” Quentin said with a smile, reaching down to caress my wet cheek. My lips trembled and I felt a breeze hit my back as the wind shifted the water. The wet strands of my hair were sticking to my face, and Quentin reached down to push them away.

“The Spider Queen has inquired regarding your return, mighty one,” Selena suddenly said, watching as Quentin’s attention seemed directed mostly to me. I had a strange feeling that she didn’t like me.

“I’m not interested in her,” Quentin firmly said, glancing over at her; his gentle hand was still caressing my cheek.

“But she has prepared a great feast in your honor,” Selena argued back to him.

Quentin redirected his eyes at her furiously. “I said I’m not interested!” He snapped, and she pushed back frightened, bowing and suddenly apologizing.

“Forgive me, mighty one,” she said again. “I only thought—”

“You thought what?” Quentin wickedly interrupted. “I take a moment of my precious time to allow you the honor of seeing my beautiful Pet-tricia, to be the first to see me triumph over my suffering—” he voiced. “—And you speak of nothing else but HER!”

“Forgive me…but I only thought that then she can see that you have found her. Found what you sought to find for so long.” Selena softly said.

“And that you are victorious…where the others have failed to be.”

Quentin fell silent, considering her words, and soon, a smile appeared on his face. He rose from his pose with his hands on his hips, appearing almost arrogant again. But why did it matter what this Queen thought? I wondered.

“What she thinks makes no difference to me.” Apparently so did Quentin from his harsh words in response.

“But, your brother, mighty one.” she said suddenly, Quentin turned at once to look at her. And she suddenly fell silent at those words.

“He knows—but he doesn’t believe…” He merely whispered in response to her words. I had no idea what all this meant. Brother? Knows what? I wondered.

“But he soon will,” he said again, now turning to me.

Quentin extended a hand for me to take and pulled me out of the water when he realized I was shivering. I did take his hand, simply forgetting what was said as he lifted me out and beside him with ease.

“How will you make him believe?” Selena bravely asked as Quentin glared back over at her, his lips spreading into a wide smile as I pondered what she meant. She was quite brave it seemed. It didn’t appear that anyone ever challenged or questioned Quentin.

Quentin gazed over at me, his hand found my cheek and he stroked a portion of my hair back.

“My Pet-tricia must awaken from within---only then will he realize he was wrong,” Quentin said.

“Only then will he realize his mistake.” A strange smile spread over his face, he seemed lost in his thought. What was he considering?

“But all in due time.”

“For now, I must do what I can to make her remember me,”

Selena seemed disappointed by his words, but she said nothing in response, glaring at me as she moved back. I had no idea what their words meant. Who was this Pet-tricia? Did they mean me? Did he have me confused for someone else?

“Whom do you speak of?” I uttered breathlessly as Quentin held me closer to him.

“No one,” he softly answered with a smile.

We shot back into the sky suddenly, leaving the mermaids below; some waved, and others, especially Selena, merely disappeared into the ocean uninterested.

We flew over a landscape of beautiful scenery as I tightly held onto Quentin, flying fairly close to the great mountain range where snow was thick and white and plentiful from all directions.

“It’s incredible,” I gasped; there was a smile on his face when I said that. Alongside us, a group of women or what seemed to be witches appeared, flying on broomsticks.

“Are they real?” I asked as the women dressed in long glittering gowns with flowing long dark hair, dazzling with jewels and gems smiled and giggled and sped away ahead of us.

“That’s amazing!” I exclaimed, waving back at them.

We flew into the sky and broke through the clouds and over the oceans where sea creatures emerged and disappeared into the deep blue water. Over the vast forest landscapes, a grand city and civilization of people gazed up towards us. Staring, motionless, they almost seemed panicked as we sped past. I lost their images as we moved away, flying in and through the forest’s tallest trees where strange animals leaped through tree branches alongside us. The forest opened for us as we rose high into the sky and far ahead into a vortex; a sort of doorway of blue beautiful colors appeared in the pastel skies, and we sped toward it. I soon realized we were back in the real world I knew so well.

Quentin carefully brought me down through the open window of my room. In the darkness, we stood; it was quiet, the night as peaceful as when we had left. It hadn’t even seemed like we were gone for long. Quentin nearly collapsed against me; he seemed to be overwhelmed. I was paralyzed by his handsome stature, and I didn’t move or pull away.

“That was amazing. I can’t believe it. Yet I was there. The ocean, the greenery, the beauty…it was just unbelievable!”

I froze, feeling he hadn’t moved and found his eyes gazing down on me. The smile on his lips spread, and his eyes examined me very deeply; it simply made me flush. And then I sensed it: his will again holding me without touch and without force.

It was in the moment, I knew I wanted to be with him no matter what and that whatever he would ask of me I would find hard to resist.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Quentin said.

“Why did you show me this?” I asked.

“Because I wanted you to see my home,” Quentin answered, the smile reappearing on his pale face.

“Why did you come here?” I whispered softly, hypnotized by his dark eyes.

“Why, to find you.” Quentin came closer; I could feel his breath against my face, and it seemed he would kiss me. But at the same time, he resisted.

“Me? I don’t understand. Why me? I’m no one,” I said under his spell. He gazed deeply into my brown eyes.

“You’re something to me and more important than you realize.” His hand caressed a portion of my hair as he leaned forward, and I closed my eyes, longing for his lips to touch mine. But when I didn’t feel them, I opened my eyes, and he was gone.

I rushed to the open bedroom window; the curtain was flapping the side of the ledge, and I leaned my head out but only saw the yellow moon perched in the endless night sky. My rescuer was gone. Again.

That night, I could barely sleep. My dreams were of mermaids and witches darting through the dark skies and of blue oceans with plentiful sea serpents.

31

The Morning After

Michael’s voice awoke me from the other side of my bedroom door; I stirred from on the bedroom floor, realizing my longing had kept me up for most of the night near the open window. I sat there for a moment wondering if I would ever see him again. I had no doubt about it for some strange reason. But the desire was driving me insane. Why did I feel this way? Was I so unable to control myself? It wasn’t like me. Disappointed, I rose to get ready for school.

At breakfast, Michael looked over at me as I sat quietly at the kitchen table. He worried often; it was like he was my father or a nagging babysitter.

“You okay?” He asked.

I must have appeared zombie-like, just sitting there poking at my eggs, when I realized he was talking to me. He poured himself some orange juice when I looked up at him, suddenly aware that he was staring right at me.

“Oh yeah,” I said, trying not to stir concerns.

“Are you sure? You haven’t touched your breakfast. I hope you like the eggs. I wasn’t sure how you liked them,” he added, trying to smile. Sometimes he could be such a dork, but he was an adult, so how else was he supposed to behave?

“Oh no, they’re fine. I’m just tired,” I managed which was the honest truth, recalling my trip to Quentin’s world. Just thinking of him made me smile.

“Oh, did you have trouble sleeping last night? Bad dreams?” He continued, taking a drink from his orange juice. I immediately regretted stirring up ideas that weren’t there. It was just the lack of sleep, and I surely couldn’t tell him about Quentin.

“Yeah,” I looked up at him with a smile. “I guess you can say that.” I fully regretted that I had said anything.

“Well, don’t forget I’m always here if you need to talk to someone. Okay?” He said, picking up his plate and walking over to the sink.

“Okay,” I answered, hoping he would say nothing else about it.

I finished my breakfast and took the plate and placed it in the dishwasher. When I turned, he was packing his lunch and taking a brown bag out of the refrigerator for me.

“I made you a little something,” Michael added proudly. I tried to smile, realizing I would have to take it if I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“I know how foul that food in the cafeteria can be,” he added. He was right about that.

“Oh, that was nice of you,” I managed to say, taking the bag from his hand. He looked proud, almost too proud, and I think he thought he had this father bit figured out. And that very thought I could sense in his mind.

“Well, I guess we better get going,” Michael said while cleaning up the table.

Outside, I heard a car horn and realized that Alex had just arrived to pick me up. Usually I rode with Michael to school, but Alex had insisted on giving me a ride since she didn’t live far from us.

“I wonder who that could be?” Michael said as he peered out the window. The expression on his face indicated he had no idea whose car it was sitting on his driveway. And why would he? I had forgotten to tell him.

“Oh, that’s for me,” I said, grabbing my school bag from the kitchen corner.

“I hope it’s alright, Michael. I forgot to tell you. It’s this girl from school who offered to give me a ride.”

Michael looked outside again and saw Alex putting on her lipstick. As she noticed him, she waved back. He nearly returned the wave until he realized who she was and whom I meant.

“Alex Burton? You’re friends with Alex Burton?” He uttered in disbelief, recognizing the gothic girl in the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, is that okay?”

I could see that it wasn’t to him; Alex was nothing but trouble. Michael wasn’t hard to read. And she was nothing but bad news in his thoughts.

It surprised me when he said it was fine, although I knew it wasn’t.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he managed to say again as I grabbed the brown lunch bag.

“Are you sure?” I asked again as I turned to look at him standing and looking pitifully by the dishwasher. I was beginning to regret leaving him.

“Of course. You need to make friends. I’ll see you in school. Just be careful,” Michael said, walking me to the door. I looked back at him as he smiled, and I raced to Alex’s old mustang as he stepped out to the front of the house.

“You guys should be careful,” Michael added like a very concerned father. His round blue eyes examined Alex’s old beat up car from top to bottom. I could sense he was trying to see if the tires had air and whether she had done the expiration sticker. I think he would have asked if given the chance.

“Don’t worry, Mr. McClellan. I'll get her to school in one piece," Alex said as she peeled out. I tried hard to smile as the concern on his face became one of regret, but by then, it was too late. We were far from his reach when I noticed him take a step off the front porch as if to stop us.

As we drove off, I scolded Alex. “Did you really have to do that?”

“I couldn’t resist sorry,” she very plainly said with a smile. I doubted she was sorry.

“Why did you do that? He already doesn't like that I'm hanging out with you,” I informed her, but that only made her laugh.

"Oh really?" She foolishly said.

“Yeah, you want to give him another reason?" I angrily said while still trying to enjoy the ride to school.

"So, have you asked yet?” Alex suddenly said quickly changing the topic as she drove through a stop sign.

"What are you doing?” I yelled.

"Relax. I looked before I went,” she answered, rolling her eyes like I was overreacting.

"Well?" Alex asked as I looked out the window trying to pretend I wasn’t going to hear it from Michael when I got home or to school. I could already imagine his discussion. He would never let me ride in the car with her again. I just knew it.

“Well what?” I asked, turning to her as she ran through a yellow light.

“What do you mean what? Did you ask about the party yet?” She said again while glancing over at me. Then I realized what she meant. The party was this weekend and I hadn’t even said anything to Michael about it. I just had a feeling he wasn’t going to let me go. He especially wouldn’t let me go now that he knew I was hanging out with Alex Burton.

"Not yet?” I managed to say as Alex spun her head sideways in my direction immediately.

"What? Claudia, the party is in two days. You have to ask,” she insisted, driving like a madman down Broadway. We stopped at a stoplight with a sudden halt; we were merely a turn away from the school.

"I know," I said nervously, glaring at her. Her driving was making me nauseated; you’d think this was her first time driving. And not to mention, she had an old fast car, a 1969-year-old Mustang. It wasn’t in the best condition, but it was a red convertible and a fixer upper.

"Afraid he's not gonna let you go?” Alex asked, looking over at me from the driver’s seat.

"Maybe," I admitted while looking down at my brown bag and shamefully stuffing it into the school bag.

“He made you a lunch bag? What a dork.”

I frowned at her.

“Sorry,” she uttered, popping her bubblegum.

"Look, just sneak out," Alex suggested with a wink. “It’s the best option,” she uttered, licking the lipstick from her lips. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

"I can't do that!” I exclaimed.

"Why not? I do it all the time. Piece of cake. It's quite easy, and I'll pick you up.”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Ok, so what's the problem then? Is everything okay with you and old man McClellan?" She asked.

I was silent for a moment, and then said, “It's not that.”

“Well, what is it then?” Alex asked.

The light finally turned green, and she sped off, nearly running down two guys as she sped into the parking lot. She honked at them as she drove around looking for a space, but there didn’t seem to be one left, so she drove back around. I thought she was heading back into the street to find a place to park when she just drove into one of the teacher’s spaces and shut off the engine.

“Wait, you can’t park here,” I told her.

“Why not?” She asked, rolling her eyes and reaching to the back seat for her school bag. Again, she looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror, checking her makeup.

“This is a teacher’s parking space,” I informed her; clearly it was visible in front of us, posted on the sign.

“It’s Mrs. Whitney’s, and she’s out today. Don’t worry, I checked. I’m not stupid. Duh!”

I rolled my eyes at her and grabbed my bag from the car floor. I wondered how she had checked.

“So, what’s the problem?” She asked again. I glanced over at her, wondering if I could even begin to explain my problems to her.

“Well?”

I took a deep breath and said, "Have you ever felt like you've been dreaming but were wide awake?"

She seriously looked over at me and started to nod. I felt relief until she said, "All the time; it's called acid." She laughed as I moved to exit the car. She pulled me back inside by the arm.

"I'm just kidding; tell me what’s going on,” She suddenly became serious.

"Do you believe people can do things with their minds?" I asked her.

"What? You mean like read minds and shit like that?" She asked. “Like the Jedi?”

"Yeah,” I whispered, waiting for her mind to say freak in so many ways.

"I do actually," Alex admitted, and I could sense she was being honest. "Wish I could do that,” she admitted. “Can you imagine? That would be so awesome!” She said again. “Why? Don't tell me you can read minds.” She laughed.

I looked the other way, unsure if I could tell her or if she would even believe me. But it was too late; we were there at that point now.

“Can you?"

“I can,” I admitted, waiting for the reaction in her eyes and then her lips. Everything always happened with her in that order.

“No, really? Like actually read minds?” She spun around to the passenger side.

“Are you serious?” She exclaimed; her eyes went wide.

“You’re pulling my leg, right?” She asked, and for a long second all she did was stare at me, and as if by mere examination she could see it in me. So, I did what was obviously the next best thing. I gave her a show and tell.

I locked the doors, turned the radio on, turning through the stations until I found an 80’s classic from Huey Lewis & the News, the power of love. For a moment, she just stared at me unable to say a word.

Then, when she finally spoke she said, “That radio has never worked. How did you do that?”

I put a finger to my head. I felt like she would start laughing at me any moment or run out of the car freaked out of her mind.

But then she smiled and said, “Awesome!” and began dancing to the music like nothing had ever happened or what I had just said was that I had purchased a new dress in a fancy designer store. Whatever the case was, she didn’t freak.

“I’m thinking of something very interesting,” Alex said again with that smirk on her matted face. I glanced at her, suddenly knowing what.

“No,” I said to her. “I can’t.”

“Yes.” She shook her head. “Oh, come on Claudia,” she begged, putting her hands together as if she were praying to a higher force. I guess she might have been.

“This is amazing! This has to be exploited in every possible way,” she said giggling, and then she suddenly pushed my head down. “Get down!”

“What?” I asked, but she put a finger to my lips.

“Sssh,” she said. “It’s him!”

“Him?” I panicked, not knowing who she meant. The radio abruptly went dead.

“Dr. Black. I just saw him drive into the parking lot,” she whispered; when she said his name, I remembered his eerie message to me the night before.

“Shit, if he sees us he’ll make me move my car.” She giggled. Seriously, is that all she was concerned about?

“I’ve got to go,” I said to her, nervously trying to open the car door. She grabbed my arm.

“Wait, you can’t go now. Just relax. I don’t think he saw us.” She peered over the dashboard and lifted her head up, grabbing her school bag.

“Okay, come on; he’s gone. Let’s get going before he sees us,” she said while looking over at me.

“Come on!” She motioned to me as again I shook my head at her and nearly crawled out of the car, hiding behind a truck nearby.

“Okay.” She signaled to me. “Go!”

We rushed inside the building just in time. I glanced back and caught sight of Dr. Black emerging from his vehicle.

He drives a mustang? What principal drives a classic mustang? I must have uttered this under my breath as Alex grabbed and pulled me into the building.

Dr. Black began making his way towards the side door where we were. Alex grabbed my hand and pulled me through a crowd of students and into the side stairwell to our left just as I saw Dr. Black entering the building. I lost sight of him as we raced to the second floor. The bell rang as we entered the second-floor hallway. We stopped, and I looked at the time on my phone.

“Damn it. I’m gonna be late,” I said in frustration.

“Forget it; let’s ditch class for today,” Alex suggested.

“But I can’t,” I said as I heard the second bell ring and realized that now I was really late. The hallways slowly began to clear. And that’s when I saw him: Quentin. He motioned me to the far end of the hall as he ducked into a black metal doorway. I hurried away, leaving Alex in the hallway, and before she even noticed I was gone, I had ducked into the same metal door leading up a fleet of step to the roof.

I felt guilty for leaving her behind, but right now, the only thing on my mind was Quentin. Then, that’s when I saw him standing and looking down below at the street from above. He was dressed in the same scaly leather uniform, and his black matted locks were pulled away from his face.

I stumbled in, standing at the entrance.

“Why did you leave so quickly last night?” I began. I knew that he had sensed me enter. But I didn’t know how.

He slowly turned as I took a step forward and was closer than before. He merely smiled, taking in a breath, it was as if by my scent alone I had drawn him out of hiding. And now, his deep purple eyes seemed almost intoxicated as he staggered closer in the dance.

“Forgive me. I did not want to leave…but your world does not hold the capabilities that I require to exist. That is why I often must go.”

I gazed at him perplexed, understanding nothing, but it didn’t matter. I just wanted to be near him.

“You mean to the place you showed me?”

“Yes, that is my home. I can’t exist beyond its walls unless I can acquire energy from another source.” He stumbled and rushed to my side as he fell into my arms. I felt drawn to him. Immediately, his eyes became heavy with desire at my touch.

“You’re my angel,” he hissed. I reached to touch his face; he gasped, closing his eyes at the feel of my hand on his cold skin.

“Are you alright?” I asked trembling; he grabbed my hand, keeping it on his cheek. It was as if my touch alone delighted him immensely.

“Believe me when I say I did not want to leave,” he hissed, opening his eyes slowly; he appeared overwhelmed, gasping slightly and breathing deeply.

“Tell me how to help you,” I pleaded while feeling his cold face tremble at my touch. His lips quivered suddenly as they spread, releasing almost an orgasmic moan.

“You already have, my pet,” he said once more, taking a deep breath again, and then he slowly rose and leaped onto the ledge, extending his hand out to me. He seemed alive, unlike before, almost radiant and full of vigor.

“Come with me,” he said at once with his hand extended out for me to take.

I looked towards the door behind, hesitated, and didn’t move.

“You are not pleased to see me?” He asked, slightly disappointed, studying the expression of concern on my face.

“Oh, yes more than anything,” I said with sheer excitement.

“Then come with me, my pet! Let me take you to my world. I have so much more to show you,” he said almost in a musical voice.

I stumbled closer. “But, Michael—he will worry,” I must have uttered in my bewildered daze.

“He means nothing; does he, my pet?” Quentin whispered. “Come. I want you near me! Let me take you away, my pet!”

The words died before I could say anything else. I felt powerless, yet stronger than I had ever felt before when he was near.

“I couldn’t bear being away from you,” Quentin hissed, grabbing hold of my hand.

“Nothing, no one can keep me away from you, my pet,” he said again. “Come away with me,” he pulled my arm.

The ledge nervously came closer, and I nearly lost my step as Quentin’s body dropped back. The scream in my throat finally escaped my lips, and I closed my eyes, only to suddenly feel arms yank me to the floor. When I opened my eyes, I saw Alex staring down at me, and she was trying to wake me up.

“Claudia!” She screamed. I blinked up at her realizing Quentin was gone.

“What happened?” I asked. “Where?” I tried to say, but nothing coming from my mouth made sense.

“What happened?” She asked. “You almost fell to your death, you idiot!” Alex shouted. She grabbed hold of my hand and lifted me to my feet. I stumbled but managed to regain my balance with her help.

I looked about as I staggered beside her towards the entrance, only glancing back once before we disappeared through the door.

32

Michael

The bell rang for the last time when Michael looked across the classroom. The students were all busy working on a project he had given them to do for the entire period. He looked towards the doorway when he saw Mr. Claypool poke his head through the door window and signal him over.

“Students, continue with your assignment while I step out for a moment.” Michael said.

The class remained quiet as if he had never said a word. A few students barely glanced up, uninterested. Michael came into the hallway to find Mr. Claypool’s worried face looking back at him.

“Anything?” Michael asked as he took a step forward.

The tall blond balding assistant principal shook his head.

“Did you look everywhere?” Michael asked.

“Michael, I’m beginning to think she’s not in school at all,” Mr. Claypool said.

“That’s impossible. I saw her leaving with Alex Burton,” Michael replied.

“Alex Burton, Michael?” Mr. Claypool asked skeptically.

“Yes, I know. That’s why I’m very worried,” Michael, said as he looked into his classroom to check on his students.

“Knowing how Burton behaves, I think they’re at the mall,” Mr. Claypool said.

“Well, I can’t leave my class,” Michael said while pacing the hallway.

“You want me to send Mr. Vasquez?” Mr. Claypool asked, taking out his radio.

“No,” Michael said. “If Dr. Black finds out I sent him on an errand to find Claudia, who may be skipping, it won’t look good for Mr. Vasquez or her.”

Mr. Claypool put the radio down in agreement.

“So, what do you want me to do, sir?” Mr. Claypool asked.

Michael’s worried face gazed up at him. “All we can do is keep our eyes open…if she’s with Burton, then the mall is our best bet. But that lady is gonna have a lot of explaining to do when I find her.”

Mr. Claypool shook his head. “I’ll inform Mr. Vasquez of what’s happening.”

Mr. Claypool lifted the radio, but Michael stopped him before he could use it. “It’s best we just keep Dr. Black out of the loop; inform Mr. Vasquez without the radio.” Mr. Claypool nodded, and Michael disappeared into his classroom.

33

Claudia

I managed to walk the rest of the way down with Alex behind me, giving me a strange, motherly lecture concerning the event that took place up there. We stumbled out the door into the hallway.

“What the hell were you trying to do?” She snapped at me.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, still not sure of what had happened. I recalled being with Quentin one moment and then finding Alex shouting at me the next as I sat on the roof floor in utter confusion.

“Claudia, you nearly fell over the edge. If I hadn’t come when I did…let’s just say we wouldn’t be standing here talking.” She looked over at me. “You don’t remember, do you? Are you okay?” Alex asked, concerned. I was surprised by her sudden transformation.

“I’m not sure,” I said, stumbling away. “I have to go.”

I could hear her calling from behind, but I didn’t stop. I could sense Michael’s troubled mind searching for me. He had Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez looking for me. And I knew I would be in big trouble once he found me.

The bell hadn’t rung, but I had already missed two classes when I came down to the second-floor hallway, nearly racing down the hall as I turned the corner and came crashing into Mr. Thomas. He simply looked at me and said, “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

He motioned me with a finger to follow him. I caught sight of Alex ducking into the stairwell before I was led away in the other direction with Mr. Thomas.

34

Dr. Black’s Office

At the principal’s office

I was expecting to see Michael’s face when I was taken to the principal’s office. Mrs. Wallace wasn’t at her desk. Dr. Black’s office door was closed. Mr. Thomas knocked; he narrowed a pair of dark eyes over at me as if to say, now you’re in trouble.

From the other side of the door, I heard Dr. Black’s voice calling for us to enter. As the door opened and Dr. Black saw me with Mr. Thomas, he immediately dropped what he was working on. Mr. Thomas dragged me in, and we stood at the front of Dr. Black’s desk. Dr. Black gave me a welcoming smile, but I couldn’t even meet his eyes. I was both embarrassed and disappointed in myself.

“Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Black, but I found her in the second-floor hallway coming from the roof. It appears she was skipping.”

Dr. Black looked at me in disbelief.

35

Dr. John Black

She looked guilty when I first saw her come into my office. Perhaps she looked more embarrassed than anything else. I was happy to see her until Mr. Thomas revealed their reasons for being in my office.

“I see,” I only said as I came from around the side of my desk to stand in front of Mr. Thomas.

“I’ll handle this, Mr. Thomas,” I told him.

He was a strict fellow that up until now hardly smiled. Something about me brought out his kindness that at first I doubted was there. He took his job seriously, that was for sure. He wanted to be a cop and had instead ended up as security in a school. Of course, I never asked why; it was none of my business, and it seemed he often offered reasons for things in his life when he wanted to.

And this was no different, I figured that when he was ready, he would reveal it to me. Not that it mattered much to me. Although, it gave me an idea of anything strange going on around the school grounds that he might have been aware about.

“Should I inform Mr. McClellan?” Mr. Thomas asked, glancing back at Claudia as her eyes blinked at the sound of Michael’s name.

“No, no, I’ll do that myself,” I said while staring down at her. She didn’t look up at me, just stared at the floor.

“Very well,” Mr. Thomas answered.

“Just make sure you lock the door that leads to the roof,” I advised the security guard.

“There is no lock, sir,” Mr. Thomas said, and I glanced at him doubtfully.

“Well, we need to secure it. Get Mrs. Wallace to call a locksmith. We need to keep students from going up there,” I said, directing my words at Claudia; I knew she could feel my eyes on her.

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Thomas said and exited the office.

I closed the door behind him and walked back to where she stood, and for a moment, I didn’t say a word. Then, I moved around my desk and sat down. She stood there unable to look at me for a long while until I said, “Have a seat.”

She nearly collapsed on one of the seats in front of my desk.

“Am I in trouble?” She stupidly asked. I glared over at her, surprised by the question. I had to discipline her and found the thoughts of doing so rather disturbing.

Stop it, John

Think like a responsible principal, not like John Slater.

If you wanted an excuse to come see me, baby, all you had to do was ask, John Slater would say.

I bit my lip trying to focus. She made it so hard to do so. The same overwhelming feelings disturbed my concentration whenever she was near.

“I’m disappointed,” I started with a stern and firm look in my eyes. She glanced up at me, and then looked back down.

“What were you doing on the roof?” I very calmly asked.

“Nothing,” she whispered, but I could tell she wasn’t being fully honest.

“Oh? Would you rather I ask Michael?” She immediately looked up. “I’m sure he would be very happy to hear that you have been skipping and putting yourself in harm’s way,” I scolded her.

“I wasn’t,” she uttered. “I was just…late to class.”

“Late to three classes?” I added with a smirk.

“Are you going to give me detention?” She asked as if to say let’s get this over with.

36

Claudia

“That’s the least of your worries right now. What were you doing up there? Were you with someone?”

I glanced up at him, realizing that perhaps he had already known. But I didn’t want to get Alex in trouble. But yet, I couldn’t say what was the honest truth, which was that I was up there with him. Quentin. And I panicked.

“I was with no one,” I insisted.

“Claudia, I’m not your enemy. I want us to be friends. I hope you understand that. I’m just concerned.” Dr. Black rose and moved around the desk slowly. “I’m sorry if I frightened you the other night,” he said again and stood facing me near his desk. “I didn’t mean to,” he honestly admitted.

I gazed up at him as he took a seat behind his desk again.

“You didn’t,” I said, shocked that he had brought it up but still more embarrassed for running away that night.

“Oh, I didn’t?” He answered grinning; okay perhaps he had, but I didn’t want him to know that. But I guess he already did.

“I was surprised, that’s all…surprised that someone other than my grandfather could do that,” I tried to say, feeling my face burning.

“Well, I myself can’t,” Dr. Black honestly admitted. “But I knew what you were trying to do.” He smiled and shook a finger, as if to say naughty, naughty. I tried not to be shocked. Was I that obvious?

“You did?” I simply said as he smiled back at me. “And you’re not weirded out by that? I mean, by what I can do?” I asked ridiculously. He almost seemed to laugh.

“Not at all; if anything, I’m fascinated.”

Fascinated! What an interesting choice of words. Most people would think I was strange and head for the hills, but he hadn’t. Instead, he found it fascinating. I smiled, feeling more comfortable about being around him. Perhaps I had underestimated some people. I always thought they would freak out.

“You continue to intrigue me, Miss Belle. You must of course learn to control your emotions. Isn’t that the key?” He strangely said, which made me blush again; it was the way his voice softened and became gentle, almost romantic, that seemed to cause heat to rise to my cheeks.

I guess it was the way he said my last name that fascinated me mostly. But how did he know that all I had to do is control my emotions? He seemed to know more than he let on. But I didn’t want to ask, of course. I was too embarrassed.

“I think now that we understand each other a little bit more; you can explain to me why you were on the roof. Was someone with you?” Dr. Black softly asked; he came forward on his desk.

“No! I wasn’t with anyone.” And I almost opened my mouth, but my lips froze, and the words never came out. I couldn’t betray Alex.

Dr. Black nodded. “Claudia, if we’re going to be friends we have to learn to trust each other. I know what you can do.” I nearly panicked. “And I know when you’re lying to me. You know it’s not very hard to know when someone is lying, right?”

Yes, I do, and just as he’d claimed, I was intriguing. It was he who I found interesting. He took a deep breath and gazed right at me with those deep green eyes. I wanted to trust him, but I was afraid.

“Now, you have to promise me you will never go up there again. And we have to be honest with each other from now on. Do you understand?”

I nodded with difficulty. Was he really letting me off this easily?

“Are you going to tell Michael?” I nervously asked. Dr. Black took a deep breath again and leaned back in his seat.

“No, I don’t see the need to. We can keep this as our little secret…but,” he said almost immediately, lifting a single finger. “I don’t want to see you in my office again. Unless of course you’re stopping by to say hello,” he joked, grinning slightly.

I tried to do the same, seeing as he was letting me slip on by with this.

“So, are we going to be friends?” He asked again, narrowing his green eyes at me, his lip curled slightly. He looked incredibly handsome wearing a dark blue suit and black tie. I nodded, trying not to turn tomato-red again in front of him.

“I’m glad,” Dr. Black said, folding his lip back, and I felt the stress drain from me.

But then, a knock at the door interrupted us. Dr. Black called for the intruder to enter. Michael appeared at the entrance and I had never been so unhappy to see him; it was obvious he knew what had happened, and I saw the disappointment in his eyes.

“Claudia, oh thank God! Mr. Thomas told me she was in your office, Dr. Black. I hope she hasn’t been a problem,” Michael said, entering and coming to stand beside me where I was seated.

“Oh, not at all Michael,” Dr. Black answered.

“Mr. Thomas said she was on the roof. What were you doing up on the roof?” Michael redirected the question while looking back at me.

“Who was the other person?” Michael asked Dr. Black, and Dr. Black looked puzzled, but Michael seemed to be ahead of him.

“Was it Alex Burton?” Michael suddenly asked.

“It’s alright, Michael. Claudia and I had a long discussion. She has made a promise she will not repeat today’s performance,” Dr. Black said, walking from around his desk over to Michael’s side. “Isn’t that right, my dear?” He humored with a smirk at me.

I nodded, but Michael narrowed his eyes at me. He already knew, and he spun his head around and said, “Alex Burton. I’m sure of it.”

Dr. Black seemed slightly disappointed that he couldn’t calm Michael’s anger. I wasn’t sure why.

“Yes,” Michael whispered, glancing back at me. “Isn’t that true, Claudia?”

I nodded with difficulty, realizing I was willing to get Alex in trouble to protect Quentin, and then I replied, “Yes it was Alex. But we weren’t doing anything wrong.” I tried to say this as innocently as possible

“That’s not the point,” Michael said. “You skipped class, and my god, what if something had happened to you? The roof is no place for children,” he said, and my heart sunk when he said that. I felt a glowing warmth on my cheeks; he was embarrassing me in front of Dr. Black. At once I rose from my seat and glared up at Michael angrily.

“Are you giving her detention?” Michael asked, gazing over at me in question.

“I don’t see any point; she has learned her lesson. Haven’t you, my dear?” Dr. Black asked while directing his eyes over at me. He was trying to soften the situation between Michael and I, but I didn’t say a word, knowing Michael didn’t like the idea of me avoiding detention or some form of punishment. It appeared he wanted to seem responsible or whatever. But I wasn’t a child. And I definitely wasn’t his child.

“Dr. Black, don’t you think it’s best she gets detention. I mean, I don’t want other students thinking that she’s getting special treatment because I’m her guardian.”

Dr. Black laughed slightly. “Nonsense, Michael. I’m quite sure she’s learned her lesson.”

But Michael would not have any of it.

“Very well, I apologize for the intrusion Dr. Black.”

With few words, he instructed me to the door but I was already walking away angrily as I turned and growled back at him, “I’m not a child!”

And then I rushed out of the office before he could respond.

“Claudia!” Michael called after me, turning to Dr. Black; I caught Dr. Black’s apologetic expression at the other end before Michael hurried, trying to catch up to me and finally doing so in the hallway. Perhaps because I’d stopped when he again called and came rushing out into the hallway to find me. He was ready to race up the stairwell after me.

Michael came to stand behind me. “Young lady,” he started to say but stopped when I faced him and stared up at him defiantly.

“I wish you hadn’t embarrassed me in front of Dr. Black,” I interrupted him.

“Embarrassed you? You managed to do that on your own,” he rudely redirected.

“I’m not a child!” I said to him again.

“Claudia, even though you’re eighteen, you’re still my responsibility,” he said to me very directly.

“I’m almost nineteen, and I’m not a child,” I snapped back.

“Well, you’re acting like one now. What were you doing up there in the first place?” Michael firmly asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I merely uttered, knowing it wasn’t an explanation.

I began to walk away, but Michael followed. He was disappointed, and I felt guilty for making him feel that way but far angrier with him for embarrassing me.

“Don’t think that you’re not going to be punished just because Dr. Black didn’t give you detention,” Michael finally said in the empty hall. I didn’t answer at first; just felt him beside me as we walked down the hallway, leaving the principal’s office behind.

“You’re grounded,” he said again, and I looked up at him in disbelief but swallowed any words that tried escaping my lips.

“And that’s not all. I don’t want you hanging around Alex Burton anymore.”

“What!” I spun my head around. Now that was just going too far. “You can’t do that.”

“I’m your guardian, and I’m responsible if anything happens to you. I don’t want you talking to her again,” he firmly said; he sounded unreal, like he was trying really hard to make his voice sound strong and firm.

“But she’s my friend, and we have a party on Saturday. I’ve already made plans with her,” I responded, and I wished I hadn’t said a word about it. But it was too late.

“Well, then maybe you should have thought about that before you wandered off and skipped.”

He didn’t say it as firmly as the first time. I could sense the emotions inside him were swirling in different directions. He wanted to take it all back and apologize and just hold me. But he felt he had to say something; there was a voice inside telling him to be strict and firm or else I would walk all over him.

“That’s not fair,” I snapped, pulling away from him; he nearly gave in. I could feel it. I walked into the stairwell away from his side.

“Where are you going?” He asked. I turned to look at him angrily.

“To class! Now leave me alone!” I yelled back at him, hurrying away.

“Claudia, please. You must understand, I’m only trying to keep you safe,” Michael pleaded. I ignored him and headed up the stairs.

37

Alex

Alex sat in her rusted car. The parking lot was fairly quiet. She waited patiently as the last bell rang; even now the last of the buses were lining up one behind the other to shuttle students to their area homes. And soon, it would be time for her to wander into hers as well.

But she wasn’t looking forward to it.

She was more afraid now with everything that had happened. And she wondered why she had never noticed it before. But it was always that way. Dr. Edwards had always given her a bad vibe, but she had never suspected anything else. Only after had it all made sense. But she never made a connection; even visiting the grave was a hard thing to do.

The rusted gates of the old cemetery greeted her as she got out of her car the very same day she had heard the news of Quinn’s return from the old woman. She had bravely decided it was time to see his grave site, but she had never entered. Why had it taken her so long to do this? She kept her distance even after discovering who he really was.

It was for the best. Of course, she intended to one day reveal herself, but it had taken longer than she’d thought, and then, death had come and taken him as Quinn had once taken her a long time ago. She swallowed, watching her peers climbing into the yellow shuttles, waiting patiently as she saw Claudia emerge out of the entrance. Alex made a movement to greet her until Michael descended the stairs alongside her. She immediately ducked into the passenger door of her car and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Shit.” she said; there was no way of reaching her and she really wanted to talk to her. There was something she had to share with her even though the crystal’s light had warned her it was a bad idea. She knew if she didn’t warn Claudia it would soon be too late, and she didn’t want the same thing that had happened to her to befall Claudia as well, but the whole thing sounded crazy, even to her, and she had actually lived it.

Michael and Claudia climbed into a Honda SUV and drove out of the parking lot as Alex ducked inside the car. When the coast was clear, she sat up, deciding on what to do next. She could easily seek Claudia out later at night, or perhaps she would wait for the time of the party and drag Claudia out of the house. They had to talk; it was important because she had sensed the danger long before and had failed to stop it only because she had to wait until it made the connection. That was the only way she knew who it wanted. And now that she knew, she had to stop it before it was too late for her as well.

She turned the key in the car ignition, but at first it failed until she put a palm over the dash, and immediately, the car came to life and roared as she pushed down on the gas pedal. She smiled now recalling Claudia’s confession. Claudia was indeed naïve and such an easy prey to evil; she had no idea what was now stalking her. It was time to tell her the truth about her grandfather, and she had to tell her soon. But first, she had to make a stop. It was time to go there, time to see him perhaps for the last time and do what she should have done a long time ago. She put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot, speeding out and startling a couple on the sidewalk near the driveway.

When she arrived and turned off the car engine, she felt like fleeing; she hated cemeteries, always had. She hated them because of her fears of the Ink or death, as human beings better knew him. The well-dressed blond man in the black suit; Quinn had frightened her with all his stories, and she couldn’t bear to step a foot into a cemetery, but today she had to. There was no turning back. It had to be done.

She came out of the car carrying a rose and swallowing hard. She went in through the gates that were open. There was a funeral at the other side of the cemetery, and there were funeral cars and many people dressed in black. She’d fit right in. You’d think she’d like this kind of thing, but she didn't.

She feared cemeteries and more so the buried and the reaper who sometimes paid them a visit. He was always looking for them, the beings and their counterparts, ones like her. What did he want? Were there things Quinn had not shared with her? He was a secretive monster; they all were. They wanted control.

She hurried on finding it without difficulty and came to stand before it, already crying before she knelt in front of the tombstone. She pulled out the black pouch she had taken from her locker. She wiped her eyes and put a rose in the vase sitting near the stone.

"I met her,” she began. “She's so beautiful and so much stronger than I expected.” She opened the pouch and pulled out a long tube-like crystal.

"She’s in danger, but I think you probably already knew that." Alex held the crystal; it had stopped glowing, “Why didn't you give her this? I’m sure you meant to. But don't worry. I'm not going to let anything happen to her. She won't suffer as we have." She took a deep breath. “I’m going to stop him.” She ran her fingers over the words on the stone, putting the crystal back into the pouch.

"I miss you so much... I never stopped hoping that one day we would find each other again." She sobbed harder, and the mascara was smearing her dark eyes as the white makeup felt hard on her face.

"Okay, I have to go now.” She slowly turned away but spun around and put a kiss on the hard stone, feeling over the name imprinted name:

Neil Edwards, beloved grandfather and devoted educator.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there, my son."

And with that, she turned away and rushed out, looking back at the trees behind her when there was movement.

Startled, Alex spun her head, and there, among the stones behind a tree, a bony hand crept on the bark and a head poked out in greeting.

“Maya, come here!” His voice hissed, and the blond-haired man gleamed. She knew he couldn’t touch her as much as he wanted to take her; he couldn’t as he was bonded by the rules. But he loved to toy with her and to frighten her.

She hurried away as his laughter filled the silent night, and frightened, she began to sob, stumbling out of the cemetery and hurrying to get away. In the distance, they were burying someone else, and she hurried out, racing to her car and closing the door. She glanced down at her bracelet; it was a pale white, and she sighed in relief.

The car started at the first turn of the key, and she sped away. The night was falling now, and it was dark by the time she reached the old woman’s house. She would have to leave soon as she had often run since she had returned to this world. And yet, she hadn’t aged at all, so it was easy to search the schools for the one she was looking for. But Quinn was never far behind, and she knew she was running out of time.

When she arrived at home, she made sandwiches and served the old woman her tea and joined her by the TV to watch The Bachelor, the old woman’s favorite show. The old woman talked about the women on the show, and she told Alex she should get into a reality show. By nine at night, the old woman was falling asleep on the couch and Alex knew it was time to take her to bed.

Alex helped her up the stairs and into the first bedroom. Tucking her into the large bed, she closed the door behind her and moved across the hallway; the floor creaked under her steps, and she stopped to hear the wind outside. The house seemed to come alive.

Alex began to walk towards her room. She picked that room because it was the only one that was not painted a pastel color and not cluttered with things. Although, a few boxes did clutter the closet, it was better than nothing, and it beat sleeping in abandoned buildings.

A shadow moved across the floor, and she froze, finding the stairs but a distance away. She wanted to run but she worried about the old woman, and she didn’t want to leave. Instead, she stood at the entrance of her room; it was dark, but the moonlight entering through the open window lit the way somewhat. She slowly pushed open the door, and it cracked as she did.

"Maya, Maya, what am I going to do with you?” A voice softly hissed from somewhere inside.

She moved her hand over the light switch, but it didn’t work, so she reached for the nearest lamp. As the light came on, she found his figure seated on the ledge of the window looking back at her. There was an eerie grimace on his pale, youthful handsome face.

“Quinn!” Alex screamed.

“The one and only. Who else would travel the regions of the universe to come find you, my love? I missed you,” his voice replied. “I missed your touch and your smell; you intoxicate me. Why do you do this? Why do you run from me?” The young man hissed; his hair was dark as the night and his skin the color of milk. But he was beautiful, especially his eyes. After all, it had been his purple crystal eyes that had drawn her in, in the first place. He wore the same clothing as always: a scaly leather jumpsuit with a patch of color of their choosing; his was a fiery red. Quinn’s favorite color was red.

“Would you rather live in squalor than as my queen?" He sneered at the surrounding area. His eyes were shadowed by darkness, making his eyebrows stand out over his large beautiful eyes. He leaped off the ledge but didn't approach, and he noticed the crystal on her wrist, worn like a bracelet.

“You think any amount of makeup will hide your beautiful face from me? I can sense you!” He hissed.

“Stop, Quinn!” Alex screamed, nearly in tears.

"I will never stop, my love. I've tasted you and want nothing else but you. You’re mine. You gave yourself to me.”

“No, you took me like you’ve taken everything from me!” Alex screamed again.

“I long for you, Maya. I miss you. I need you, and I can’t be without you any longer. Please don’t make me…I can’t bare it anymore. I want to make love to you.”

“Stop!”

“Or fuck you, whatever you prefer. Don’t make me do something horrible to get you back…for you know I will.”

She looked at him puzzled. What was he getting at?

He moved forward; the hunger was running in his veins and she could feel it just as she could feel it in hers, and she felt shameful.

“I need you, Maya. Please. You’re all I think of every moment of my existence; you’re in my blood now, coursing through my veins, coursing through my soul. You’re a part of me. And nothing can change that.”

“You don't have a soul,” she snapped.

He laughed. “That's the fire I desire, my Maya!” He stumbled closer, and she raised the crystal up at him, so he darted back, grinning.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer! I’m not yours!” Alex angrily yelled.

“Maya, it's time to stop this foolish game. I've allowed it, even tolerated it, but enough is enough. Your place is with me. Or what is it you seek? What is it that pulls you away from me? What is it that is taking you from me?”

She shook her head, trying to fight his stare, and then, a smile spread across his face and he began to laugh.

“You don’t think I know why you’ve come all this way?”

She swallowed, fearing that perhaps he had discovered her plans. Or had he always known? Of course he did. He always knew everything.

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Alex yelled and rushed at him with the crystal.

Quinn leaped through the window, laughing as he flew into the sky, and as Alex raced and poked her head out the window, she watched him ascend and disappear into the dark sky with his laughter fading behind him.

About the Author

C.S Luis writes paranormal action/adventure with just a splash of romance, and is the author of The Man in Blue, 1&2 part of a growing series entitled The Claudia Belle Series. Her other books include, The Extraction vol. 1, The Arrival of the Man in Blue Vol. 2, The Connection vol. 3, & The Return of the Man in Blue vol. 4, and vol.5 Nemesis Alien Hybrid which is schedule to come out in October.

She’s also author of two erotic books titled Touch & The Lady and the Beast.

C.S Luis lives in Houston Texas, with her husband and two children. You can find out more about C.S Luis books on www.Facebook.com/TheClaudiaBelleSeries/ or follow her on Twitter @csluis2.

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THE CLAUDIA BELLE SERIES

The Extraction

The Arrival of the Man in Blue

The Connection

The Return of the Man in Blue