Dark Storms, Volume One: Edge of the Knife

No one at the school was alone in trying to deal with their abilities; some had known they were different from a young age; others were just exploring their own skills. Abilities were duplicated, and most children knew one or two others in the school who could do what they could do. For every ability, there was someone who could look after ‘new comers’ and guide them in learning their skills.

There was one exception to that.

As soon as I stepped onto the grounds of the school, something came over me. Fire shot in spurts from my hands, thoughts struggled to crowd into my head. My body went numb, my hair grew, then shortened, then grew once more as I realised I was hovering above the ground. I began to cry, scared and terrified as I was, as Miss Dust reached up and held onto me. I fell into her, as things became too much and I blacked out.

When I came to, I was in a room at the top of the school, a large room for unskilled ‘Evolutionary Advanced Human Beings’, or EA for short, as I would learn, to practice and train and hone in on their skills without hurting anyone.

Slowly, gradually, Miss Dust introduced me to the schools other students. They brought in small group by small group, allowing me to absorb their powers in small blocks and have a bit of practice with them before getting a new ‘set’. Miss Dust studied what happened intently, with a desire to know how my power worked. After a few days, she led me out of the room, and soon after I made my first real friends.

There was a lot I owed to Rin and her parents; the family who had come to the Orphanage, the girl who had technically given me my first glimpse at my ability. Like many of the others there, Rin attended the school but often visited her parents on weekends and holidays. She was cool and calm, even tempered and it had been she, along with her parents (who often had me over for Sunday lunch) who had informed Miss Dust of the presence of an EA at the Orphanage.

So I owed a lot to Rin. Of course, I also owed Miss Dust.

During my time here, she had managed to get a PhD in Genetics. Dr Dust had been there to look after and guide me, she had been at my bedside when I’d come down with a nasty flu. She had held me on the anniversary of my parents’ death, as I cried myself to sleep.

She was not like a parent, more like an older sibling, and I was thankful to have someone like that in my life.

As well as those two, there was Becky, my roommate, and our two male friends, Sam and Eddy. We gelled together perfectly, despite the huge differences in personalities. Technically, Sam, Eddy and Rin had graduated the year before, but like many students they had decided to stay on and help with younger kids coming to the school. Now, we were discussing what we were going to do for mine and Becky’s 18th birthdays, both of which were coming up at the end of March. That summer, the pair of us were due to graduate, and we had already discussed moving to a city somewhere – Manchester, Cardiff, London, Liverpool, anywhere would do – getting flats together and jobs and living somewhat normal lives.

Eddy was a complete contrast to Rin’s cool demure. The term fire and ice could be applied, literally, to those two. They made a great couple. Eddy’s flaming red hair – not ginger, it was crimson red – was a contrast to Rin’s dark locks. Whereas she could keep her head in almost any situation, Eddy was quick to temper and hot headed. But Rin was always there to cool him down. Especially when he got too worked up, and ended up with flames sparking at his fingertips.

Eddy and Sam made a great comedy duo, and it was rare for us not to be laughing at them when we were hanging out. Sam was lanky, towering over us all, with light brown hair that fell over his forehead and often into his bright hazel eyes. Mix his humour with good looks and impeccable fashion taste, add in a sexy Irish accent and you had the main desire for every girl in the school, including Becky.

In all honesty, his power did not help the girls falling at his feet matters either; after all, what was sexier than the idea of being whisked away, flying above the ground in the arms of a good looking guy, much like Louis Lane and Superman?

He had dated a few of the girls in school, and I was unable to count the amount of times I’d sat up with Becky, offering comfort, chocolate and chick flicks, telling her that he would come around eventually. He had to – they’d been dancing around each other for so long. She’d pressed me for details when, as a favour, I had been his ‘date’ for a party his rich parents were throwing. We’d had a good time, but the truth was, there was nothing even remotely romantic between us; he was like a brother to me, and although we had tried a goodnight kiss, it had been weird and awkward.

It was a surprise that we’d gone through so long together, and still Sam and Becky had failed to get their act together. Becky was kind, sweet and shy, a personality that perfectly matched her angelic blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But she also had a cheeky, mischievous side – she often helped Sam and Eddy with their pranks, aiding them with her super-speed. She was the youngest of the four of us, but if any of us had a problem or needed help, when younger students wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t a teacher, it would be Becky they, and us, would turn to. She was always willing to make a cup of tea, have a sit down and a chat.

Shortly before Christmas, I had confided in Becky how alone I felt, how down I got about the fact that there was no one else out there like me. Everyone else had people who could explain their powers, the full extent of them, who could guide them in exploring their limits. She turned to me, told me I was being stupid and that I was not alone.

“You’ve got us, and I bet there is someone out there with the same power. You just have to give it time. For now, just be glad you’re the only one who can pull off an effective Rogue at parties.”

One of the best powers to have as a teenage girl was the ability to alter basic parts of your experience. I had discovered early on that I could only pick up on aspects that the original user themselves could use; if, as I had seen, a telepathic kid could only read minds, then that’s all I could do. If I met them at a later stage, and they had since learnt to make objects hover in the air, then I could pick that up, too.

There were a few morphs at the school, but so far all they could was alter appearance slightly. Dr Dust had informed me that, when older, they may be able to change greater aspects or, as she had witnessed herself years ago, alter their bone structure and even, in very rare cases, shift their full body into that of an animal.

So I never had spots, I could have my hair any style I wanted it, and, well, a belly for me was never a problem. Not that I did not keep myself healthy; I went for bike rides with Sam and Eddy, I was often in the school’s basement gym with Becky and Rin. Not long ago, I had decided to keep my hair short, never more than chin length, changing the colour when I got bored of it. Today, I had opted for blue-black hair and dark, dark blue eyes.

“Melinda?”

I half turned from my seat on the sofa, between Becky and Sam, to see a student a few years younger than us, standing and looking terrified. I gave her a soft smile.

“Yeah?”

“Dr Dust asked to see you.”

“OK, thanks.”

She darted away, and from the armchair I heard Eddy laugh. “Stupid kids; scared of everything.”

“Stupid boy.” Rin slapped him playfully on the arm. “It doesn’t help when you do that.”

“Not again.” I stood up, sending a glance at Eddy. He looked pretty happy with himself, and I knew what he’d done. As soon as he’d seen her, he would have held a ball of fire in his hand. He loved scaring the younger ones. “You should be helping them Ed.” I scolded, before leaving them to carrying on discussions about the upcoming birthdays.

As I wondered down the corridor, memories of my first trip here came flooding back. I had taken the first steps down this hallway with Dr Dust at my side, smiling as I gasped when a boy stepped through a wall and crossed in front of us. Although I had already ‘absorbed’ most of the powers, seeing others using them was still strange and unreal to me. Still, already, having spent a week here, the normality of the Orphanage was being stripped away. Arguments I had witness at my old home seemed so boring, so normal; after all what interest was there now in the idea of seeing two children argue over a toy when I’d seen someone here settle things by simply commanding the toy to come to them?

Despite the fact that seeing others use their abilities had now become normal for me, I still got a shock of excitement at someone demonstrating what they could do. My first few weeks here had been strange, intense and amazing, and some of the little girl who had stared in wide eyed wonder was still inside me.

I stopped outside the office door, slowly raising my hand to knock. Inside my head I heard Dr Dust’s
familiar, reassuring voice. ”Come inside Melinda.”

I stepped into the office that in the course of my life here, I had come to know and love. My eyes scanned quickly towards the comfy armchair and the bookshelf beside it, looking out for any new addition to the five shelves. The first two rows were covered in academic and scientific books on DNA and genetics, discussing evolution and physics theories. The third and fourth shelves contained novels, Dr Dust’s own private library of romance and adventure, science-fiction and horror. All of which her students were welcome to read at any time. On the bottom shelf were stacks of comics, and here lay the favourites of most of us, for the comics contained stories of the X-Men, Captain America, Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four. Tales of heroes with powers not dissimilar to our own. She used them to show weary students how their favourite characters coped with their own powers; fiction, she explained once to me before, is a way of coping with real life. What better for a school full of EAs than comics whose stars were ‘mutants’?

It wasn’t only the classics she kept; Dr Dust was always on the lookout for any new comics she could add to the growing collection. Sam had recently returned from America with an issue of a comic called 9th Wonders, by an artist called Isaac Mendez, and thanks to the wonders of eBay, we now had most copies of the comic available for us to read.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked, sliding into the comfy chair opposite Dr Dust. My eyes flickered up to the large print of Helwein’s Boulevard of Broken Dreams that hung behind my mentor and tutor.

She smiled softly at me; I loved this room. Dr Dust had managed to effectively create an informal, friendly atmosphere, and encouraged us to pop in and talk to her whenever we needed to. “I felt you may be interested in this.” She pushed a large blue book across the desk towards me, eyes resting on my face as gently I picked it up.

I stared at the shape on the book, the ‘s’ with dashes coming off it. Slowly, I raised a finger to my neck, allowing the tip to stroke at the birthmark hidden just under the collar line of my t-shirt. “What’s this on here for?” I asked, bringing my hand back down and running the same finger over the shape on the book.

“He calls it a helix.” Dr Dust explained, leaning back slightly. “I managed to ask him myself a few years back. He said it resembles a DNA strand.”

I turned the book over, eyes scanning the information on the back. “Suresh, another geneticist?”

“He was.” Dr Dust let out a sigh, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, he died in America.”

My eyes snapped up to see the sadness that had now washed over her. “I’m sorry.” Quickly, my gaze was drawn back to the book. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because Melinda, of all the children I have seen at this school, you seem to be the one who needs the most answers.”

“And this book has them?” I asked, unable to hide the sceptical and critical tone of my voice. A corner of her mouth curved upwards as she leant forward.

“Some, Melinda. But not all. Suresh was an extremely clever man, but there was a lot he had left to discover before his death.”

“No one has all the answers.” I repeated the mantra she had told me time and time again, when in moments of frustration I had come to her office, ranting and raving, looking for answers or clues and ending up with more questions than I had started with. Something told me this book would lead me down the same path.

She gave a small chuckle. “Finally, it sinks in. Now, take that. I will, of course, be happy to explain words or phrases if you don’t understand them. I think your friends are eager to carry on planning your birthday.”

I nodded, stood and stepped backwards. “Thanks Dr Dust, for everything.”

She gave a small tilt of her head in acknowledgement, before I slipped away, clinging onto the book as if it were the bible.