****
Partnered with a girl this time, Mycale saw snatches of her crying helplessly as he was being dunked and held face down in a tub of water. His lungs were burning, ignited by an invisible fire. Swallowing the taste of his own blood, each breath turned into acid as it rushed down his raw throat.
Coughing uncontrollably as water squirted from his nose and mouth, Mycale fought to get oxygen into his lungs. The men were determined to suffocate him one way or another. A fist flew into his chest, causing him to lose the breath he’d been struggling so hard to catch.
Having no control, Mycale’s hand was forcibly slapped hard atop a hard wooden desk that had been added to the cube. The slap of his hand sent peppering aches of pain up his already bruised wrist. As one man held his hand firmly down, the other placed a circular cutting device around the joint of his left pointer finger.
Mycale pleaded, “Please don’t. I promise I will show you my ability.” Listening to the men tell him that they were about to peel the skin from each of his fingers, Mycale’s nerves flew into a chaotic frenzy. His hand shook uncontrollably, which sent the instrument slicing against his finger. With a scratchy and sore throat, he could hardly scream when the man tightened the instrument around his finger and started to pull. Since his voice and strength had been beaten from his body, tears were all Mycale had left to beg with, but he refused to let them fall. He lost skin from two of his fingers before they stopped.
Mycale found that watching the other kids suffer was far worse than his own agony. His abuse had been harsh, but it was now his turn to watch the girl’s torture. Fearing something was broken, he could hardly stand upright. The men left his cube, consulted with the man and woman behind the desk, and walked into the girl’s cube. Mycale didn’t know the girls name, but he often saw her struggling four beds away from his. The girl backed into the corner and folded her body into a tight ball when the men approached.
The girl was slammed face down on a table facing him. When Mycale saw the men unbuttoning their pants and taking off the girl’s gown, he screamed like a child gone mad. The men were deliberately looking at him as they undress the girl. Shaking his head, tears slid down his cheeks for the very first time. He pushed his voice box to the max, but only cracked words and horse cries made it out of his mouth. “No! Sack it la’. You can’t do that. Please!”
The men controlled the girl’s body as she laid helpless. With only her eyes, she begged Mycale for help she knew he could not give.
Although Mycale didn’t fully understand sex, his father and mother had given him the-birds-and-the-bees talk. He knew enough to know the men were about to do the worse thing an adult could do to a child. Turning away from the horrific seen in front of him, Mycale lowered his body to the floor and hid his face behind his trembling hands and knees.
Seeing what the men were about to do to the girl had broken him so severely, he couldn’t control his raging thoughts. He slapped at his head, fighting himself to ward off the image he’d just seen. He spoke softly to himself, “Az if. They blaggin’ me ‘ead. It’s not real. It can’t be real.”
Hearing the girl’s muffled cries tore a hole in his heart. Exhausted, beaten, and broken, Mycale couldn’t stomach the thought of what was about to happen. If the plan was to drive him mad, it had succeeded.
Continuing to slap himself about the head and face, Mycale let the same spark of rage that help him melt the glass spill over his body. He hardly knew what rage was, but he knew he hated these people. He wanted to hurt them, even kill them. The sight of the girl about to be raped became his undoing.
Standing, he pushed at the interior of his wall angrily. He was sure he was the only one that felt heat radiating from his body. One more angry push at the glass made it shatter as if he had caused an explosion. Glass rained down on him, but he didn’t give it a second thought.
The shock of Mycale’s display made the man and woman dive behind their desk and men stop their assault on the girl. Mycale walked out of what was left of his cube and pushed at the outside of the girl’s. This time, a large portion of the glass melted away as if it were plastic.
The men ran towards Mycale, but every time they reached to touch him, they jumped away as if being burned by fire. Mycale backed the men into a corner. Holding them there, he yelled back to the girl, “Run, find a way out and get help.” The man and woman from the desk were either gone or still hiding. Turning, Mycale exited the cube and noticed various parts of the room had caught fire. It was probably why the man and woman remained hidden.
Mycale didn’t care that the men were chasing him. The building had started to burn and his only concern was helping the other children. Just inside the doorway, Mycale stared quickly around the soundless room. The men could have caught him, but they stopped at the door’s entrance. After taking a moment to stare at him, both men threw up their hands and ran away.
Looking down, Mycale saw what turned the men around. Staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed, his hands were emitting blue and orange flames. Amazingly, he wasn’t being burned. This was the ability his captors had been forcing him to show. The man and woman had been right all along.
Every eye in the room was on him, but Mycale didn’t have time to explain. Using his hands, he burned away restraints and pointed the kids towards the exit. The fire grew as each of the freed children ran out the door.
By the time Mycale set the last boy free, the sound had returned and the atmosphere was alive with billowing smoke and dancing flames. Although his once flaming hands were out, Mycale was reluctant to touch the boy’s skin. He instructed the boy to hold firmly to his shirt tail as he led the way out of the room. Before exiting, Mycale’s eyes brushed over Ivan’s empty bed.
As he and the boy neared the final door to freedom, Mycale glanced back periodically to see if they were being chased by fire. He pushed against the door repeatedly to get it open. Once opened, the fresh cool air breathe new life into his body. The bright sunshine was a welcomed treasure.
The other boy fell as tears streamed down his face. Mycale didn’t know if he were crying because he was in pain or finally free. Helping the boy up, they ran through a dirty deserted alley. Seeing the other children waiting and waving from afar kept them moving. The street was at least three blocks away, far enough that they would all be safe from the fire.
Only when they reached the other kids did Mycale look back at the building. Smoke and fire wafted from one side, probably the area where they had been bedded down. Nestled among old abandoned warehouses, the building was at least five levels high with most of the windows missing from the higher levels.
It took a moment for the cold winds of December to register, but the chill was nothing compared to what they had all suffered. Guilt filled Mycale as he was aware that he’d caused the fire. He wondered where their captors had gone. Scanning their surroundings, he hoped the man and woman or the big guys didn’t show up and retake them. Hearing fire engines in the distance let him know that they were probably going to be safe.
A stray memory flashed through Mycale’s brain. He thought of Ivan. What if he is still in the building hiding? Turning, he started back toward the building as the others made attempts to stop him. As he ran, he shouted over his shoulder, “Ivan may still be in there. I have to help him.”
Running back to the building was scary, but the idea that Ivan might still be inside was more frightening. Mycale entered the building as smoke flowed past his face like lingering harpies with desperate and deadly intent. He reminded himself, “Be a hard man.”
Coughing into the back of his hand, Mycale walked further into the now dark building. Creaking and groaning sounds kept him on edge as every brush of the wall made him jump or spin fast. He shouted Ivan’s name repeatedly, hoping and praying the boy would answer.
When he entered the soundless room, it was so filled with fire he immediately stumbled back. A crashing sound sent him running back down the dark hall. Swallowing his fear, a horrific sight seized his
body. Something had fallen into the second hall, blocking the exit as fiery debris continued to fall from the ceiling. Trapped, the only place left for him to go was to the area that held the glass rooms. He hid beneath one of the desk and prayed the firemen would come in and get him.
The periodic spray of water as it shot cold from the fire trucks kept Mycale from falling completely apart. The sprays of water help him avoid being engulfed and consumed by flames. The extreme heat had pinned him down. All he could do was close his eyes and pray. Each time the smoke took his breath, he became more and more lightheaded. Like fiery arms reaching out to touch him, the flames licked at him from every angle. He fought the flames, striking at them as if it would help. Seeing parts of his clothes being burned away sent his heart knocking against his chest.
Although extremely hot, it amazed Mycale that the fire hadn’t harmed his skin when it had so easily taken his clothes and hair. The strong stench of his hair being burned away increased his horror tenfold. Praying aloud, he asked that he and Ivan be kept safe. He prayed for the children who had not returned to their beds, wondering if they had been spared or killed.
****
Mycale awoke to the smiling faces of his parents. He lay, unstrapped, in of all things, a hospital bed.
The news reported that a young boy had been found alive inside what was left of an old burned-out infirmary. Found hidden under piles of debris, the sturdy frame of a desk had been enough to keep the boy from being crushed. How the boy survived the smoke and extreme heat inside the building was a mystery. They called it a miracle.
All of the abducted children present had been accounted for. No one had shown up to claim Ivan and his body wasn’t among the rubble of the building. Only Mycale and the other eight children vouched for him. Mycale was convinced that Ivan had the ability to disappear.
The children who professed they had magical abilities were immediately diagnosed as having mental problems from being captured and possibly tortured. Having all been checked out medically, Doctors never found evidence of the children’s beatings or abuse. How had their abuse been erased? Mycale was left with an endless number of questions.
Some of the children never recovered from their traumatic experience and a few were locked away in mental facilities. Mycale kept his mouth shut about his ability. Although his scars were invisible to others, he would forever carry the pain he endured and the torture he witnessed. There were moments when he wasn’t sure if he remembered the events exactly as they had happened. He theorized his captors had found ways to manipulate his mind. Afraid to tell his parents how badly he had been messed with, he feared they would think he was crazy.
Despite being back home, Mycale feared his life would never be the same. His parents explained that he had been missing for a week, but time had not been a factor during his capture.
Later, Mycale found himself getting into fights and all sorts of trouble at school. Normally known for being an even tempered kid, his parents didn’t know what to make of the change. Since the people who had taken him and the other children were never found, his parents followed through with their plans to move to America.
Moving to one the friendliest cities in the United States, his family left Liverpool, England for San Antonio, Texas. Moving didn’t change Mycale’s attitude. At one point, his parents put him in a young boy’s military academy, but he still continued to get into trouble. Talking to a Psychologist and attending anger management classes didn’t help him either. The rage he picked up while being held captive seemed determined to remain a part of his life.
Over the years, Mycale found it a struggle to be normal when the invisible traveler inside his body constantly reminded him that he had possibly never been. Rage remained a vigilant reminder of what he had gone through. It also reminded him that he was capable of extraordinary things when pushed hard enough.
****
Growing into adulthood, Mycale’s hot temper had gotten him into so much trouble he saw no other alternative but to find a way to control it. He started getting tattoos. Inflicting pain on himself took the edge off the rage he couldn’t shake.
At sixteen, Mycale helped a woman being held at gunpoint. Cutting school, he entered a liquor store he had no business being in and ended up walking in on a robbery in progress.
He didn’t have a problem standing up to the man or pushing him over as a gun was being waved in his face. The store owner had a hard time explaining to the cops how a sixteen year old, who wasn’t supposed to be in her store, had probably saved her life.
The incident drove Mycale toward pursuing a career as a soldier or police officer. Having a gun pointed at his face had given him a rush that pushed the snooze button on his rage. Danger had now become his medicine, and saving others in the process was his salve.
The older Mycale became, the more he became convinced that his kidnapping had sparked a part of him that he may never understand. Afraid he might accidently hurt someone, he never allow himself to get angry enough to start a fire again. However, he was left with many lingering thoughts about his capture. If they weren’t supposed to remember they were ever captured, what will happen now that some from his group did remember? The kids who’d disappeared from the beds before the fire never came forth, nor had they ever been found. Mycale believed his captors made them forget, just as they said they would do. Just as they had turned off the sound and erased their abuse. He wondered exactly how many groups of children had gone through the same traumatic events only to have it wiped from their minds.
Mycale vowed that he would someday find his captors and Ivan. He needed answers, but above answers, he wanted revenge.
Mycale later joined the Navy and excelled. His willingness to run towards danger caught the attention of Top, a secret spy organization. Mycale didn’t know it yet, but Top would essentially provide him enough danger and intrigue to keep a lid on his rage and ignite a whole new level of sparks.
***End of Prequel One***
Author Thank-you
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SPARKS: The Smoke & Fire Series (Prequel Book 1) Page 4