The Abnormals: Book One

by Isabelle Sorrells

  “Why is it so important that we do these things?” Mark asked.

  “You are currently in one of the more populated areas of Heltiana’s Devil’s Haven. If anyone were to find actual humans here?” Jack paused as if mulling over his options. Jack let out a troubled sigh before finishing. “It would mean death. If not, worse.”

  “What could be worse than death?” David asked. Jack’s head whipped around to face him. His eyes were wide and his hands twitched.

  “You have no idea,” Jack answered sternly before walking farther on. The five of them exchanged both confused and worried glances before following. No one dared to say another word.

  Jack stopped abruptly, and everyone lifted their head from the ground to see what had caused him to stop walking. In front of them just beyond some bushes and trees was a hill. The green grassy hill sloped down and at the very bottom was a town. Roads scattered everywhere across the flat landscape surrounding it and connected with the town in random openings that transitioned into cobbled streets. The sound of bustling life drifted up the hill with the cool breeze. Brooke dashed out of the forest and looked down onto the blissful town.

  “It looks like it’s right out of a fantasy!” Brooke shouted in excitement. Jack began to walk past her and down the hill but stopped and turned back to face her and the other teens standing beside her.

  “Remember what I told you in the forest and do not forget it,” Jack said.

  Alex ran down and stopped when he was beside Jack.

  “Don’t worry. We won’t,” said Alex as he looked to his friends for support. They all nodded their heads in agreement.

  “Really, we won’t,” Mark said reassuringly. Jack visibly relaxed and smiled at them.

  “Thank you.” Jack’s voice was warm as he said those two words of gratitude. They all began to walk down the hill without another word. They were all thrilled to be in the midst of civilization once again.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Alex’s shoes clicked as his heels hit the cobblestone pavement. The streets bustled with life. People ran in and out of stores with grocery bags in their hands. A woman tugged two crying children across the street in front of them. A group of drunk men poured out onto the sidewalk from a local bar in a hysterical fit. In an alley, a group of teens danced to a boombox. Everything almost looked normal. Almost.

  An odd yellow light flew around the teens that were dancing in the alley as they performed fantastical feats with their dance moves. Everyone around them was dressed oddly. Not like they would dress on the mainland. Ahead of them, two women in cloaks ran out of a building, pulled out swords, and began to fight. One woman’s sword was knocked from her hands, and she shot out her hand toward it, not looking the slightest bit worried. To Alex’s surprise, the sword sprang from the ground and flew into her hands.

  Brooke tugged Alex’s sleeve and pointed wordlessly. Alex followed her finger to a man and woman standing on a stage. Their hair was jet black and their eyes were a peculiar bright orange. The man was half-naked except for a pair of black pants with flames running up the sides. Two gold cufflinks were latched onto his wrists. He was barefoot. The woman wore the same pants and a black leather jacket over a white T-shirt. Stacked gold bracelets dangled from her arms and two gold rings hung from her ears. She was barefoot. They looked like twins.

  The man and woman faced the crowd and raised their arms toward the sky. They held their palms flat, and balls of fire appeared inches above their hands. The balls began to spin slowly at first, then faster. As the balls spun, they floated up into the air and formed a square. Lines emerged from the four balls, connecting them all. There was silence as the square turned slowly. In an instant, fire leapt from the square and expanded.

  A tornado of fire formed and reached high into the sky. The sky above blackened with smoke and ash fell. Suddenly, as if it never happened, the sky returned to the same cool blue and the tornado of fire shrunk into the hands of the man and woman. The duo closed their eyes and concentrated. The small tornado of fire exploded and red-orange sparks flew into the sky. The man and woman faced the crowd and bowed. The crowd burst into applause.

  Jack stood behind Alex and watched in amusement at the agape teenagers. He placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder and Alex looked up in surprise. Jack nodded toward the street ahead, indicating that they needed to keep going. The group managed to snap themselves out their trances, and they walked on, away from the gathered crowd.

  Jenna and her brother straightened and looked at the crowd with a smirk. They had captured their audience once again with their spectacular performance. Jenna turned to her brother, more than happy with the day’s results. Jensen looked at her with a mischievous and expectant smile and Jenna cocked her head in confusion. Jensen pointed behind him at the street below with his thumb toward a particular group of people that were walking away from the crowd.

  There were six of them. One was a tall man with a top-hat and flowing cloak. The others were young teenagers.

  Jenna looked back to her brother, her expression changed to that of her brother’s. They both knew what each other was thinking before the other said a word. This day was just getting better and better!

  More and more people poured out onto the streets as the sun descended into the horizon and darkness washed over the sky. Street lamps and lanterns flicked on, lighting up the dark cobbled street. Tents full of food and trinkets lined the streets, attracting joyous customers. Performers stood on stages, pedestals, or boxes and performed their magic. Some created stories and images with a strange magical substance or water and fire, others flew around the sky, all the while performing tricks.

  Jack turned onto another, less populated street and walked up the steps of a two-story building. Alex, Mark, Brooke, Nicole, and David were close at his heels. Jack stepped inside. They stepped into a small square room with three old couches placed sloppily around a broken table to their right in front of the wide window. The fabric of the couches was ripped and the color was fading. The wood of the table was splintered and one of the legs had broken in half but was repaired with duct tape.

  The wallpaper on the walls was ripped and falling off and the wood floor was sticking up in places under the shabby dull carpet. Doors lined the walls with numbers on each that were barely attached. At the very end of the room were some stairs and right beside them was a desk with a flickering lamp. Two legs were propped up on the desk, the owner’s face hidden in the folds of a giant newspaper.

  The door closed behind Brooke with a loud thump. The person at the desk didn’t move. Jack walked across the room and stopped in front of the desk. The person didn’t look up. Jack cleared his throat to gather the person’s attention. The person didn’t even flinch. Jack cleared his throat again and the person behind the newspaper flipped the page.

  “What do you want?” a gruff voice from behind the newspaper asked impatiently.

  “I’d like a room. The biggest one you have, please,” said Jack. He remained calm and pulled his hand out of his cloak, which was balled into a fist, a string sticking out between his fingers. Jack placed his hand on the table and set a small brown bag on the desk. The bag made a clicking sound as it came in contact with the hard wood surface. The man closed his newspaper and folded it up, setting it on the end of the desk.

  The man’s bare chest revealed his large muscular build. He had long brown hair and a long brown beard that covered half of his chest. On his wrists were black cufflinks with sharp silver spikes. On his left hand he wore a black fingerless glove while his right hand was bare. In his right hand he held a large cigar. A scar ran down his closed right eye and traveled down his face, stopping just above his mouth. His eyes glowed red with hatred and annoyance. His appearance gave off an intimidating and frightening aura.

  The man took one look at Jack, then at the pouch he placed on the counter. The man slowly stood from his seat, looming over Jack. Jack did n
ot back down or look the least bit shaken. The man slanted his eyes as he glared at the slim man before him. Jack glared at him in turn and after a few minutes the man returned his gaze to the small brown leather pouch. The man opened the pouch and poured out the contents on the desk. Gold coins scattered across the desk.

  The man stared at the contents without a sound for what seemed like an eternity. He grunted and looked behind Jack at the five teenagers huddled together in silence. He grunted again and scooped the coins back into the pouch. The man tossed the bag up and down in his hand as he turned and placed it into a safe. When he turned around, a skeleton key attached to a piece of leather dangled from his fingertips. Jack held out his hand and the man dropped the key into his palm.

  “Upstairs,” the man grunted and nodded toward the old grand staircase next to him. Jack clasped his hand around the key and spun around. He nodded to the stairs and the teens followed him as he walked toward it. Alex shivered as he felt the gaze of the strange man follow him up the stairs.

  The wooden steps creaked beneath their feet as they climbed the stairs. The top of the stairs led to a long hallway with doors on each side. The second floor was just as bad as the first floor. The wood floor was rotting, the walls were cracked, and the wallpaper was peeled off. Jack turned down one end of the hall and walked until he was at the very end. He turned to a door with the number forty-six on it. The four hung upside down and the metal was dented. Jack slipped the key in and turned it. The door slid open, barely hanging on to its hinges.

  Jack stepped in and held the door open as everyone else followed. He shut the door behind them and walked over to a wobbly table against the wall. Jack set the key down, then inspected the drawers and contents of the table. David felt for the light switch and flipped it. The room remained dark. The only light came from the street outside. The room was long. On the other end of the room was a window that faced the more populated side of the street. A single tattered curtain hung in front of it. There were four twin beds against one wall with a small rotting table in between each. Next to the window was an old red cushioned chair, the color fading to a gray. Beside the table where Jack stood was a wooden rocking chair. The walls were cracked and water dripped from a damp patch in the ceiling.

  Alex walked over to the window and looked out at the festival below. Brooke and Nicole walked over to some beds and flopped on them with a sigh. Mark and David exchanged glances before running and flopping onto the other remaining beds. Once Jack finished inspecting the room he turned and sat in the wooden rocking chair beside the table.

  “What are we going to do about the sleeping situation?” Mark asked. “There are only four beds and there are six of us.”

  “I’m fine with this chair,” Alex replied as he pointed to the chair behind him, not taking his eyes from the window.

  “I will be content with this rocking chair. It is actually quite comfortable,” Jack said as he rocked back and forth.

  “Well that settles it then,” Brooke sighed. “I haven’t been in a bed for so long! It feels so nice! Even if it’s not a hilton!”

  “Jack, what’s going on down there?” Alex asked as he watched the performers through the window.

  “It’s technically a festival, but they do it every night. It will last a very long time. Until very late in the morning. Of course all of the children retire before then. The adults do whatever they want. And the teens loiter around and watch the performances. After all, we do not need much sleep. Yes, we still need it but not as much as you humans do.”

  “Is it all right if I go walk around for a while? I won’t talk to anyone,” Mark asked, bolting up into a sitting position.

  “I’ll go with you,” Alex said, turning around.

  “When you come back, just knock on the door and I will let you in. That is if you are the only two going?” Jack looked to David, Brooke, and Nicole expectantly but they were all fast asleep. “Which you are. Stay together. Don’t trust anyone but yourselves.”

  “This’ll be sweet!” Mark beamed and pumped his fists in the air in a silent cheer. Alex turned and walked toward the door. Mark hopped off the bed and followed.

  “Be aware of your surroundings,” Jack called after them as the door closed behind them. Jack leaned back in his chair and chuckled to himself. What was he worrying about? It was just a festival after all. What could go wrong?

  Alex and Mark turned and made their way down the staircase. The steps creaked beneath their feet loudly. When they reached the bottom the man at the desk looked up at them and grunted before returning back to his newspaper. Alex and Mark acknowledged the man before hurrying out into the street.

  Mark and Alex turned the corner side by side onto the more lively and populated street and walked through the crowd, observing the tents and performers and activities. As they passed the alley of teenagers, their music drifted into their ears. It was unlike any music they had ever heard. “Whoa! Check it out!” Mark shouted over the loud music and grabbed Alex’s arm. Mark pulled Alex through the crowd, shoving people out of the way. He finally stopped behind a large group of people gathered in front of a stage. The crowd was loud, roaring and cheering things that Alex could not determine.

  A man with slicked-back dirty-blond hair and blue eyes stood on the stage. He was young and fit and wore a white pirate’s coat that went down just below his knees. Beneath the coat was a dark blue long-sleeve shirt. Along with his jacket, he wore white pants, and around his waist was an empty sheath. In his right hand, he held a blood-coated sword. He sheathed it and nodded to another man in a blue T-shirt. The man nodded back and bent down toward a motionless body sprawled across the stage. The man carried the body off the stage and handed it to what looked like nurses, a handful of men and women in matching jackets with the same labels printed across the arm and chest, who then took the body, placed it on the ground, and placed their hands over it. A bright yellow light emanated from their hands, and the body began to stir.

  The body stood up and pushed the nurses away. Alex couldn’t see who it was but he could see the dark outline of the man. His body was large and muscular and he was extremely tall. The man spun around and stuck out his index finger at the man on the stage.

  “Curse you! I will get my revenge!” the dark-outlined man bellowed. The man in the blue T-shirt laughed and bent down, scooping up a sword. The man tossed the sword to the dark outline.

  “Yeah, okay! Keep walking,” the man in the blue T-shirt nodded to the street. With a grunt, the outlined figure disappeared into the crowd. “Now! Who wants to see if they can defeat the great swordsman?” The man threw his hands out to the crowd. “Any volunteers?” A hand shot up from the crowd and the man beamed. “You, sir! Do you have your own sword or is one to be provided?”

  “I have my own,” a gravelly voice spoke up.

  “Alrighty then! Please step up! Do not worry if you are injured! We have healers at the ready!” The man in the blue T-shirt stepped off the stage as another stepped on. Alex’s eyes widened in surprise. It was the same desk clerk from their inn!

  “Let’s get on with this then,” the man from the inn said as he laughed loudly. The swordsman merely smirked and pulled out his sword. The swordsman was sure to be the one to lose against that beast of a man. To the crowd’s astonishment not even a minute passed before the man from the inn fell from his feet and crashed onto the ground in a heap. Alex’s eyes widened as the nurses climbed onto the stage and began to heal the horrifyingly still man.

  “We should go,” Alex whispered into Mark’s ear as he began to turn away. Alex grabbed his arm and tugged Mark away from the crowd.

  “You there! Boy in the blue sweatshirt!” the man in the blue T-shirt called. Alex and Mark froze in place. Slowly, they both turned back around. “Yes, you! Come here! Let’s see if you can defeat the great swordsman!” Alex clenched his jaw and glared at the man. Mark looked from Alex to the man in horror
.

  “I’m sorry but my friend would not like to participate in your charades. We really must be going,” said Alex as he stepped backward. In a few seconds, he would give the signal and he and Mark would book it. Alex’s back came in contact with something hard. He turned to find two men staring down at him, smiling. The men walked past him and picked Mark up by the arms and carried him toward the stage. Mark kicked and struggled but he couldn’t break from the men’s grip. He turned his head over his shoulder to Alex for help. Alex’s fists were clenched and he refused to move. The two men set Mark down on the stage and walked away. The man in the blue T-shirt handed Mark a sword.

  “Do your best, kid! Oh, and remember, you can’t leave the stage until you are injured! Or you defeat the swordsman! There is no surrendering in this game!” The man laughed before jumping off the stage to watch from the ground. The swordsman looked to the man in the blue and cocked his eyebrows as if to say, really? You want me to fight this kid? The man in the blue gave him a wink and a thumbs up. The swordsman rolled his eyes and started to slowly pull his sword out of its sheath.

  Mark watched in horror as the sword slipped out of the sheath and the swordsman held it high in the night sky. The purple moonlight glinted off the edge of the sword. Mark’s whole body shivered in fear. He had never used a sword in his life! If this was a fist fight it would be an entirely different story. But this wasn’t a fist-fight. It was a sword fight. The sword shook in his sweaty palms as Mark closed his eyes and braced for the impact.

  “Enough!” Alex shouted. Everyone stopped and all eyes turned toward him. Alex walked to the stage and reached for his back. Alex pulled the sword halfway out of its sheath and let the metal glint in the moonlight before sheathing it once again. “Leave him be. Let me fight in his stead.”