Columbine

“Come on, you can do it!” Scarlett urged from across the room, as I tried my hardest to lift the enormous weight one more time.

My arms were shaking and my shirt was drenched in sweat. With every passing second I wanted to kill Scarlett slower and slower. Even through the totally human appearance and excellent cooking skills, she was a lab rat at heart.

She’d bribed me into a full battery of tests with the promise of baking a chocolate cake, not even bothering to tell me that besides a jog all over the lab facility, sit-ups, push-ups, and a thousand other exercises, she’d be testing all of my body fluids later. How I could have been so foolish was a question with no comforting answer.

“What, that’s it?” Scarlett asked, sounding disappointed. “Only twice?”

I would have told her where to stick the weight, but I was too out of breath.

“I must admit, I’m a little let down.” She shook her head and scribbled something on her chart.

I sat up, panting, and tried feebly to give her the finger. My hand couldn’t summon enough energy to make even that simple gesture. The exercise room blurred and I felt dizzy. My lungs shook as I sucked in as much air as I could manage.

“Well, rest up, okay?” Scarlett suggested, like I hadn’t been doing that already. “I can’t have you passing out when I do the lumbar puncture.”

I almost did pass out at the mention of a lumbar puncture. I’d managed to squeeze in enough television before electricity died to know that a lumbar pucture involved getting a needle jabbed into your spine – not something I was looking forward to.

“You really are pathetic.” Charlie sneered from the doorway.

Over the past week, since he’d been here in the lab, he seemed to be wreaking his vengeance on everyone because of the charm we’d made Sarah put on him. Even if he couldn’t physically hurt anybody, he could still make our lives a living hell. Everything he did seemed to further proof of that fact.

“Shut up!” I shouted at him.

I wasn’t sure how I could have ever allowed him into my life. Most of the time, he was the biggest ass imaginable.

Scarlett gave me a water bottle, which was shortly emptied of all its contents. The bottle fell from my still-shaking hand.

“Columbine? You okay?” Scarlett asked.

I didn’t have enough breath to answer her, so I took fifteen minutes to catch it. I’d always considered myself physically fit, but after the hell Scarlett had put me through, I seriously had to reassess that idea.

“I know how you can wake her up.” Charlie snickered. “Just give her knockers a squeeze for me.”

I picked the empty water bottle up and threw it at him. He didn’t even have to dodge it -- it missed him by a mile. He continued to stand there and grin, making me want to kill him even more than I already did.

“Charles!” Scarlett snapped. “Enough of that!”

He snickered to himself and reclined against the wall. I shakily got up from the floor, my head still spinning.

“Stand still.” Scarlett commanded me as she took my pulse.

“Wow, Scarlett, I think you killed her.” Charlie leered.

“Damn it, Charles, you broke my concentration!” Scarlett screamed, her grip on my wrist tightening.

This was the fifth time today that she’d screamed. I didn’t even count the amount of times she’d gone off the past week -- especially that time when Charlie intentionally spilled an entire pot of stew onto the floor. If Scarlett hadn’t chosen to wear three-inch heels on a whim that day, she’d have had burns on her feet. I realized now that maybe that had been the point.

One would think that Sarah would have gotten the worst of Charlie’s mischievous schemes, but she was fortunate to have the ability to send him flying across a room with a mere flick of her hand. He’d tried many times to pester her, but it always ended with him biting the floor. He’d eventually settled for those of us who weren’t witches.

“Well, you’re physically normal.” Scarlett finally concluded.

“Believe me, darling, that girl’s body isn’t close to normal.” Charlie snickered.

“You just can’t get that one feel out of your head, can you?” I groaned, hardly able to move without hearing the sound of my joints creaking.

“To think that I could ever forget how your supple breasts felt in my hands…” He slapped a hand over his heart and closed his eyes, like he was remembering some kind of pleasant event. “Never.” He concluded. I gagged.

“That’s enough, you two.” Scarlett snapped. “Columbine, let’s go eat.”

I perked up at the mention of food.

Valentin, having stayed true to his word, had abstained from making any more delicious morning treats -- at least as far as I was concerned. I’d caught Sarah wolfing down a sugar-powdered crepe in the darkness of her room. I couldn't help but doubt that she’d made it herself and was afraid to eat it in front of the rest of us.

“What’s for breakfast this morning?” I asked as I lagged behind Scarlett.

“Fruit salad.” She said nonchalantly.

My smile fell. I’d expected foods dripping in grease, crispy delights fresh from the frying pan, and maybe even a stack of steaming pancakes. When I thought of a soggy, limp, too-sour bowl of mixed fruits that had started to dry around the edges, I almost cried. Sure enough, a Tupperware container filled with mixed fruit was waiting for me.

“That sure looks…delicious.” Charlie said, looking at the fruit like it was suspicious-looking sushi.

“Shut up.” I muttered as I took the lid off the container. I spotted pineapple, watermelon, grape, and banana. It was a questionable combination, at best.

Scarlett disappeared into the kitchen, probably to get herself more of the same sad-looking fruit salad. I ruefully popped a bit of watermelon into my mouth, swallowing it quickly. This was one of those few and far between times when I regretted telling Valentin to go to hell.
I ate another piece of melon, clenching my fists, and reminding myself why I’d told him off like I had.

He’d lied to me. He had so conveniently forgotten to tell me that he’d joined up with the Demataxt. I couldn't even be sure that he really had quit. What if he’d been spying on me all this time? What if the Demataxt was just biding its time until it kidnapped me and put me through enough hell to make Scarlett’s tests look like a cakewalk? I couldn’t risk that.

When I ran out of watermelon, I moved on to grapes. They were purple -- my least favorite kind. I fought a grimace as I carefully chewed a grape, trying my hardest not to taste the explosion of sickly sweet juice that came out of it.

“You’re looking awfully pensive.” Charlie observed, sitting down at the opposite end of the table. He’d been watching me eat, probably picking up on my blatant dislike of the pathetic salad.

“And you’re looking awfully like a stalker.” I snapped. "Go away."

“You’re thinking about demon boy, aren’t you?” Charlie grinned.

I shot him a glare. Perhaps that was my mistake. I should have just calmly denied it -- then at least he wouldn’t have any real proof that I’d been thinking about Valentin. But when he saw my glare, he took whatever subconscious bait I’d given him and ran with it.

“I knew it!” He exclaimed. “I knew there was something going on between you two!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Come on, tell Uncle Charlie everything.” Charlie beckoned me, slapping a hand on his lap, like he expected me to sit there. I threw a grape at him. It bounced off his forehead and fell on the floor.

Charlie’s comic expression fell a little.

“What’s going on?” Scarlett asked, having come back with a Tupperware container of her own.

“Nothing.” I grunted, busying myself with a piece of extremely sour pineapple.

Scarlett seated herself at the table and started eating, seemingly unfazed by the extremely poor quality of the food she was mindlessly putting into her mouth.

“Not nothing, darling.” Charlie traitorously leered at Scarlett. “Our girl’s having some demon boy trouble.”

Scarlett looked at me, which was not a good thing. If I listened hard enough, I could hear little gears and devices whirring in her head, concocting ideas and theories that she would no doubt test later.

“Screw you, Charlie.” I muttered. “Maybe Sarah can put another spell on you -- make your lips fuse together, or something.”

Charlie’s smile instantly fell. I was grateful for the silence that spanned on for the next twenty seconds or so, before Scarlett asked me the million-dollar question:

“Are you and Valentin ever going to reach an understanding?”

“Yes, that would be nice.” Charlie added. “That way the spikes of lightning we’ve been experiencing can finally stop.”

“Shut up, Charles.” Scarlett commanded, then turned back to me.

I honestly had no idea what to say. I’d considered apologizing to him, but when I actually thought about walking up to him and saying the actual words I always changed my mind. Besides, he’d been avoiding me all week. Even if I wanted to find him, I couldn’t. Maybe when hell froze over and demon lords all decided to dress up as fairies, it just might become a possibility.

“Well?” Scarlett prompted.

“I don’t know.” I finally concluded.

“Are you done eating?” Scarlett asked. I looked down at the remaining pieces of fruit and nodded.

“Great.” She said. “Let’s get on with the tests.”

I followed her to the same lab where she’d drawn my bone marrow for the first time. It was also the same place that I’d discovered her in a drunken stupor.

“I’ll be taking several blood samples.” She began filling me in. “Also, I’ll do the lumbar puncture and I’ll need a stool sample.”

I could hear Charlie snickering behind me as we continued walking. The thought of peeing in a cup was certainly less daunting than the thought of a needle jabbed into my spine, but nonetheless humiliating.

“Why do you need these tests again?” I asked.

“So I can know more about the nature of your condition.” Scarlett said.

“And you need a lumbar puncture for that?”

“Yes.”

My stomach clenched and my palms began sweating. I was immediately reminded of my childhood trips to the doctor’s office, except in those cases, I hadn’t known the doctor as a person. Having Scarlett do these tests was infinitely more creepy, because I’d seen her living as a human.

We arrived at the room where Scarlett had tested my bone marrow the first day I’d seen her. She pointed at a mat that lay ready on the floor, reaching into a drawer in her desk. Her hand came out clutching a slim box.

I nervously settled onto the mat, while Charlie stood watching. I’d long since given up trying to get him to leave me alone. It was as futile as trying to make a million dollars appear out of thin air.

“Lie down and turn over with your back facing me, please.” Scarlett commanded. I did that, while she got down on her knees and opened the box. A thick needle came out of it, accompanied by a small test tube.

“You’ve got to love girls with sharp objects.” Charlie smiled, and I glared at him.

Scarlett proceeded to take out a syringe filled with amber-colored liquid that I assumed was anesthetic.

“Will it hurt?” I asked, hardly able to keep the tremble from my voice.

“A little.” Scarlett said. “But that’s what the anesthetic’s for. I can’t have you twitching around while I do this.”

“What happens if I do twitch around?” I asked.

“You could be paralyzed for life.” Scarlett said matter-of-factly.

I almost ran away screaming. Just ho many of these tests had Scarlett done? Furthermore, how many had she screwed up? I didn’t even want to know the answer.

“Don’t let her do it.” Charlie mock-whispered. “You want to keep the feeling in your legs, don’t you?”

“Shut up, Charles.” Scarlett muttered while she tested the syringe. A few amber beads escaped the needle. I bit my lip.

Scarlett injected the contents of the syringe into my back without incident. It was when the larger needle began to poke around in my spinal chord that I began to take notice. It was a lot harder not to twitch than I had originally assumed.

“Be still!” Scarlett urged. “It’s almost over."

So I waited for my valuable spinal fluid to finish dripping into the vial. When the needle finally pulled out of my back, genuine tears glazed my eyes. Music was just barely audible through the needle prick. Luckily, not much blood was flowing, so the music stayed quiet.

“I never could figure out how that happened.” Charlie told me, meaning the musical blood. “I know you told me in the hospital, and all, but it still makes no sense.”

“That’s why I’m doing all these tests.” Scarlett said. “If there are any anomalies, we’ll be closer to an answer.”

I tried to sit up, but was stopped by Scarlett’s hand.

“You shouldn’t move after a test like that, or you’ll have a nasty headache.” She said.

I grudgingly laid back down and tried to ignore the small, painful prickle where the needle had poked. Scarlett held the tube of spinal fluid up to the light. It looked a lot like water.

“Good news, it’s not cloudy.” Scarlett declared.

I gave her a tired thumbs up. She inspected it for another minute, before stepping up to her desk. There was a somewhat large microscope standing there, along with some other equipment. She carefully put a drop of my spinal fluid on a slide and slipped it under the lens. She looked at it for a moment, pulled away, and looked through the lens again.

“Well?” I asked.

“There’s certainly no cellular anomalies.” She said. Her brow furrowed at the words. “I’ll run some more tests to be sure.”

Everything after that was quiet while Scarlett ran more tests. After nearly an hour of watching her fiddle with her vials and eyedroppers, she stepped away from the table with a sigh.

“Well?” I asked. She looked at me with a strange expression.

“There’s nothing.” She announced.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean what I said. You have the most normal blood, marrow, and spinal fluid I’ve seen for a while.” She scratched her head, completely disregarding the fact that she’d ruined a perfect hairstyle.

“So how does your blood store sound?” She asked the ceiling. “And not just sound, but specifically music!”

“I don’t know.” I unhelpfully put in. “Maybe the same way sound is recorded?”

Scarlett looked down from the ceiling and at me. She shook her head.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” She concluded.

If I was in any way disappointed, I didn’t show it. In truth, I’d wanted to know how I could bleed out music. I’d hoped against hope that maybe the answer would give me a way to bring electricity back -- if such a thing was possible. Maybe I could collect enough to make a small flashlight. Even a two-second flicker of a light bulb would make me happier than I’d been in years.

“I guess I don’t the stool sample after all.” Scarlett told me. I sighed in relief.

“That’s too bad.” Charlie said.

“I think I’ll go now.” I announced.

“There’s some more food in the kitchen, if you want it.” Scarlett said as I left.

So I went to get more food. Oddly enough, Charlie seemed genuinely interested in some lab equipment, so he didn’t follow me.

Sarah was in the kitchen when I got there, munching down on a sandwich. She almost choked when she saw me. I could tell that she wanted to hide the sandwich, but realized that it was too late.

“Hello.” She said as I looked around for any more sandwiches like hers. Unfortunately there weren’t any. Valentin’s doing again.

“Hey.” I said. “Seen anything good around here?”

“Sure. There’s some granola bars.” She pointed to a cupboard shelf up high.

I retrieved a green box inhabited by one last granola bar. I unwrapped it and took a hungry bite. Even stale oats were better than nothing.

“He’ll pay for this.” I muttered.

“Who will?” Sarah asked innocently.

“You know perfectly well who.” I said through a mouthful of granola.

“Maybe you should apologize.” Sarah shrugged.

I glared at her. If I expected the words ‘or not’ to drop into my lap, I was in for a disappointment.

“Oh, please.” I said. “I wouldn’t stoop to apologize. Not when he’s probably going to turn me in.”

“Wow.” Sarah said. “You really think he’d stoop that low?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore!” I threw my hands up. “Everything was going okay, and out of the blue it turns out that he’s a Demataxt agent.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just saying,” I swallowed. “If the worst should happen, would you protect me?”

Sarah continued to look at me like I’d asked her what color her panties were.

“Please?” I begged. After a minute, Sarah sighed.

“Sure.” She said.

“Great.” I said and smiled. “Thanks.”

“But don’t take this the wrong way.” Sarah said. “I only said yes because I know I won’t need to protect you. Not from him, anyway. He’s not even an agent.”

“Well, he’s part of the Demataxt, isn’t he?” I asked. “What else can he be?”

“Yes, but he’s not an agent. He’s just under their jurisdiction.” Sarah advocated.

“Same difference.” I huffed.

“Actually, no.” Sarah said. “Agents are required to work for the Demataxt. Valentin is just automatically a part of their ranks because of who his father is. It isn't his choice.”

I stared at her. She stared back.

“And you know all this how?” I asked.

“He told me.” She shrugged. My eyes bugged out of my head.

“He told you?” I sputtered. She nodded sullenly.

“Furthermore,” Sarah said, “I’ve had a few talks with him, and he doesn’t really strike me as the sort of person who would just turn you in, no matter how pissed off he got.”

“Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?” I sneered.

“Well, he thinks very highly of you, for one.”

“He does?” I asked, my eyes widening.

“I believe his exact words were ‘she’d even be a decent person if she wasn't such a moron’.” She said

“Nice try.” I said. “But I’m not that gullible.”

“Columbine, I’m serious!” She urged. “He really does care about you, even if you’re too thick to see it.”

“That’s because he doesn’t.” I snapped. “End of story.”

“Oh, my god.” She sighed. “Think! When there was an earthquake and the lab nearly crashed on top of us, he protected you -- not me, not Scarlett, not himself, but you.”

“He tripped and fell on top of me.” I lied.

Sarah sighed as one sighs when a very small child just can’t understand how to add. I gritted my teeth, preparing myself for more of the same lecture.

“You really are stupid.” She concluded.

“What would I be without your guidance?” I asked, dripping sarcasm.

The granola bar wrapper lay hollow in my hand.

“We need food.” I suddenly realized out loud.

“I’ll ask Scarlett to make something.” Sarah said.

“Scarlett’s busy.” I told her. “Besides, I need to go outside. I’ve been cooped up in here all week.”

“You’re crazy!” Sarah squeaked. “If you go outside, we’ll get caught and turned in!”

An idea lit up in my head.

“I’m going outside.” I concluded. “And you’re coming with me.”

“What?” Sarah asked, her voice rising by several octaves.

“I have a plan, but I need you to make it work.” I told her.

And I began to passionately explain my idea.