Stranger Things Have Happened

22nd January 2010. 11.59AM. New York, United States.
Outside, the sky was enveloped in navy blue rain clouds. The heaven’s were about to open. Thunder rumbled overhead, just as a choking sob escaped Millie Fallows’ lips. Tears began to stream from her eyes, as the rain began to pour outside. Forks of white lightning illuminated the sky, as she let out a horrific scream of agonising pain.

“Get out!” She screamed, pushing her boyfriend of four years towards the door. “Grant! Get out now!”

Grant Peacock stared at his girlfriend, as hysterics took over her body. He barely even noticed the rain pelting the windows of their apartment. Thunder rumbled overhead again as Millie let out a growl. She waved the foreign pair of lacy knickers at him again, tears streaming down her face. A sob crashed over her body, and more lightning danced across the black clouds outside.

“Millie, baby, sit down,” Grant spoke softly, calmly. He stared at Millie, until she walked over to the sofa and sat herself down. A smirk danced across his thin lips as she did as she was told. “Calm down,” he came to sit beside her, wiping the smirk from his face. He gently prised the flimsy knickers from her grasp and placed them down on the coffee table in front of them.

As Millie’s sobs subsided, the rain outside slowed down, and the thunder and lightning came to a halt. The dark clouds still hung high in the sky. Her mood was still horrendous and Grant knew it was his fault. He was such a charmer, with the ability to get any girl he wanted and sleep with them in the bed he shared with Millie. The abandoned underwear was always found by her and this argument would always happen. Millie would cry and cause a raging storm, before Grant used his powers of persuasion to calm her down and make her forget about the girl that had contaminated their bed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to her bare neck.

Millie’s tears stopped and the storm outside cleared, the sun began to pour through the fluffy white clouds. Her mood had officially been lifted. She leaned back on the sofa, Grant following her lead. He looked at her, straight in the eye. “Tell me you love me.”

Millie had barely any control over her lips as she spoke softly, “I love you.”

Grant could make her do anything he wanted. She was his own little puppet, and he was the master, tugging at her strings.

22nd January 2010. 4.59PM. London, United Kingdom.
Angus Barton looked down the icy road, paving the way from his house to the bus stop. It wasn’t a far distance, but it was a dangerous one at that. He pulled the gate open and stuck one foot out into the road. His trainer clad foot slipped as it connected with the thick barrier of ice, blocking the safety of the pavement. He cursed under his breath and cautiously looked down the road again. No one was around, everyone had decided to be sensible and stay within the confines of their homes. He was one of the few insane people who had called Sports World and told them he could work tonight.

So, dressed in his navy tracksuit bottoms and his Sports World t-shirt, Angus had dragged himself out of the house, ready to start his five hour shift at half past five. He reeked of his Lynx deodorant, having put too much on in a feeble attempt to impress his co-worker, Kayla.

Angus checked the clock on his phone, time was getting on. Soon, the number thirty seven bus would chug on past, blowing its toxic exhaust fumes in his face and leaving him to be late, and half an hour’s pay down. So, after a mental pep talk, he put one foot onto the ice, closely followed by the other. And there he was, standing in the middle of the ice rink that was the pavement, with a big idiotic grin plastered across his face. He adjusted his scarf and took a few small steps forward. His entire body was tense as he moved, ready to reach out for the fence beside him at any given moment.

It was only when the thirty seven bus began chugging down the road that Angus decided to throw all caution to the wind and speed up. So, he broke out into a reckless run. He ran, his feet unsteady and sliding all over the path. The bus sailed on past him, stopping at his stop to let one person off, before disappearing around the corner.

Still running, Angus cursed under his breath. “Shit,” he breathed, skidding to a halt. He lost his balance. Everything after that point seemed to go in slow motion, as he flew up into the air, ready to land on the hard, cold ice on his back. He closed his eyes, waiting for the burning pain that was about to ensue, but that never happened. He didn’t collide with the ice. Instead, he floated about it.

Swallowing hard, Angus looked around, seeing he was only a few centimetres off the ground, but he wasn’t getting any closer to it. Confused, he turned over, so he was lying on his stomach, and still, he didn’t finish his fall. He put his arms out before himself and began moving them, kicking his legs as if he was swimming through the razor sharp cold air. He moved forwards, still floating.

“Cool,” he mumbled, kicking his feet, until he was in a standing position. He floated up further, higher, until he was amongst the clouds, masking his existence in the sky. He headed in the direction of work, now feeling as if he was on top of the world.

22nd January 2010. 5.59PM. Paris, France.
The library was dead. The silence inside the vast room was unnerving to Serena Franks. If there was anything she hated more than carrots, it was silence. But her head was pounding and after a tiring day of shopping, the library was her last stop. She had handed her devoured books back to the woman standing at the front desk, and proceeded to try and find more she could work her way through.

Serena placed her shopping bags down on the floor at the end of the romance section and began walking up the large wooden bookshelf. She delved into her leather handbag and pulled out her battered and bruised iPod, flicking the ‘on’ switch and placing the headphones in her ears. She allowed the music to drown out the silence and make her forget the pounding inside her head.

She scanned each book title. The one’s she could tick off her ‘read’ list, and the one’s she simply wasn’t at all interested in. She was searching for something that she probably wouldn’t find in the library. The romance section was huge. But every book, every story confined to the pages was all the same. Arguments. Clichés. Hatred. Friendships. Love. Loss. Betrayal. It was all one of the same. So, for the first time in a while, Serena decided to step out of her comfort zone and she drifted towards the crime section.

It was only when she picked up a book full of bloody murders that her headache intensified. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. The sting behind her eyes was getting worse, her brain felt like it was being carved at with an axe. She placed the book back onto the shelf and set about going to collect her bags from the romance section. All she wanted to do was swallow some painkillers and fall into bed.

“Cheating on my wife with this woman! She’s not even worth it.”

Serena stopped in her tracks. She picked up her iPod and looked at the song. It was a slow, heartfelt ballad, nothing to do with infidelity. She looked around, thinking she could have overheard a conversation. The only people around her were a middle aged man in a suit, the librarian standing behind the reception desk, tapping away at her computer and an elderly woman settled down in a chair, reading an old war romance.

“It’s not worth it. She’s my secretary for crying out loud!”

Serena frowned. No one in the room was speaking. She shook her head, trying to forget about it, as another wave of pain hit her. She closed her eyes for a moment.

“Just stay calm, at least you have an excuse now.”

“I need to get home, give Bernard his tea. I don’t know whether to do the chicken or save that and have tuna…”

Serena swallowed hard, she looked around the room again. No one was speaking. Every person within the confines of the library was silent. The elderly woman rose to her feet and shuffled towards the reception desk. As she approached, the second voice grew louder. Serena closed her eyes, clenching them shut. She inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the voices.

Was she going mad? Or was this something else?

23rd January 2010. 10.59PM. Sydney, Australia.
The club was packed. The queue outside had come to a stand still, with everyone desperate to get inside now. They wanted a taste of it, the new celebrity hang out. Despite the over priced drinks and extortionate door fee. Everyone outside was feeling impatience wash over them. Some called out to the bouncers guarding the doors. But they gave them the simple answer in a stern tone, no one was going in till people came out.

Ross Van Dyke had been one of the lucky few to actually get inside the club. Granted he had blown a month’s wages in just under an hour, paying for his own entrance and his girlfriend’s, throwing money away on overrated cocktails that didn’t do him any damage.

A cheap sounding dance track was blasting over the speakers, causing the floor to vibrate. Everyone packed inside was drunk and sweaty, drowning in alcoholic substances, one’s that burned their throat and soothed their minds. The dance floor was a writhing mess of bodies, all moving in opposite directions, bumping into one another, arms around waists and hands on hips, lips kissing necks, cheeks, mouths.

Ross looked at his girlfriend. Amanda was looking out at the dance floor. Her once perfectly styled red hair was sticking to her forehead and neck. She moved it aside, pushing her fringe away from her face. She blew upwards, trying to cool herself down. There wasn’t much air inside the club. She looked down into her drink and swallowed the remaining contents. “Can we leave, baby?”

He nodded, “gladly.” Truth be told, he hadn’t been enjoying himself. The hype was just that. The club didn’t live up to it’s expectations, what with watered down overly expensive drinks and it’s stupidly priced door fee. He placed his half empty glass down on the bar and followed Amanda to the door.

The pair of them walked downstairs into the summery Australian heat. It was humid, the air sticky and difficult to breathe. Outside, the queue had grown. People were getting rowdy, all of them shouting and pleading with the big burly bouncers to be let inside.

“Step back,” one bouncer, a man with a Mohican and a dark beard, gently pushed a twenty something body builder back slightly.

“Oi!” The stranger shouted in the bouncer’s face. He growled, his eyes suddenly turning manic.

Ross frowned and stopped, watching the scene unfold before his eyes. The bouncer swallowed hard and shook his head, warning the body builder, before turning and letting a couple of girls inside. The strange man wasn’t pleased, he squared up to the bouncer, his eyes psychotic at this point. Ross took this as his cue to step forward.

“I wouldn’t kick up too much of a fuss, it’s shite in there anyway, mate,” he said, lightly.
The strange body builder rounded on him then. His eyes were like fire, the flame shivering, as he squared his shoulders, cracking his knuckles. The sound was sickening. Before Ross could react, the stranger had raised his fist and brought it down hard on Ross’ nose, the bone made a loud crack. Behind him, Ross heard Amanda gasp, as blood began to pour down his nose. The stranger took another whack at him, punching him in the jaw.

The bouncer intervened, pulling the steroid drunk stranger away from Ross. He didn’t stick around to make sure he was alright. A teary Amanda was already doing that job. She gently pulled his face up to examine his bloody nose and bruised jaw.

“Why did you have to go get involved? Seriously, Ross, your one body’s work.” She rooted around in her tiny clutch bag, before producing a pack of tissues, gently dabbing at Ross’ nose, clearing up the blood that was quickly replaced with more.

Ross sniffled. “Babe, it’s fine, really. It feels okay.” He felt at his nose, gently, getting ready for the searing pain he had just felt when the stranger’s fist had collided with his face. But the pain never came. He felt his nose, feeling no bump, no crack, nothing. It was the same as it always had been. The blood had stopped pouring down his nostrils. It pooled above his lip, and Amanda dabbed at it again, her eyes widening when it wasn’t replaced with more.

“Your nose,” she breathed, “it cracked, it’s broken, but -”

Ross frowned and shrugged, taking the tissue from Amanda and wiping his nose. He felt his jaw, being gentle, waiting for the dull pain from a bruise. But again, it didn’t come. No pain, no injury, nothing. “I’m fine.”

Amanda stared at him, her eyes wide. She was freaked out. Ross frowned, stepping out into the road, he wasn’t ready for her questioning and theories. A car screeched in front of him, hitting him in the knees, sending him flying through the air. Amanda screamed, an agonising sound. He fell on the floor, waiting. His eyelids flickered, blinking. He felt his broken bones fall back into place, his wounds closed up. He brought himself back up to his feet and looked at Amanda.

She stared at him. “What are you?” She asked, through sobs.

And with that final question to contemplate, Ross ran away.

It was in that moment, that same time across the entire world that something changed for each of these people. A power was gained, something that would help them along in life. They could either use their power for good, or abuse it. Only time would tell whether they became heroes or villains.