Mind of Darkness

by Jes Drew

  However, when I open the door, I find a girl with long, red curls pulled into a ponytail, mischievous, blue eyes, and wearing a leather jacket over a frilly, purple top.

  “Holly,” I greet.

  “Hi.” She cranes her neck to look past me. “Do I smell pancakes?”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Then move aside.” Holly hurries towards the kitchen.

  I roll my eyes and move to close the door, but then I see Christopher’s red sports car pull into our driveway, next to Holly’s motorcycle.

  I watch as two eighteen-year old boys, best friends and neighbors, climb out. Joseph emerges first, his dark hair a strange contrast to his pale skin.

  But my eyes quickly glance over my sloppily dressed brother-in-law-to-be to the tall, blonde angel-among-men. His golden hair reflects the rare sunlight of Leeds, and his blue eyes show me the sky even on the dreariest day. And his jaw...

  Joseph nearly bumps into me, startling me out of my daze. He just stares at me for a moment. “I smell pancakes. I should go help Ata eat them.” With that, Joseph hurries past me.

  I blink. “Fiancés say the weirdest things.”

  “Joseph always says the weirdest things.”

  Turning, I find myself staring at a button-down shirt. I bring my eyes up to meet Christopher’s. “You got a point. So where’s your dad?”

  Another sleek sports car pulls up.

  “Right there.”

  As if to prove him right, Mr. Williams, an older, be-speckled version of Christopher, climbs out of the car. As does Mr. Jones, who is an older, better dressed version of Joseph.

  “The company’s all here,” I say.

  “The Rogers and Company,” Christopher agrees.

  ~~~

  “We’re leaving now,” Christopher announces to our mingling families as he leans on the polished wood cane he claims is more for decoration than actual use.

  “So soon?” Mr. Williams asks.

  Christopher nods. “Classes start tomorrow, and Emily and I need time to get settled in.”

  Mr. Williams sighs. “Good-by then, Son. Emily.”

  Mom gets up to hug me. “You two take care of yourselves.”

  Dad joins us. “And remember whose you are.”

  “Bye, everyone,” Christopher says.

  “Love you all,” I add.

  A chorus of ‘byes’ and ‘love you too’s’ echoes back.

  “Enjoy your self-inflicted torture,” Holly says before forcing a shudder. “Ugh; summer school.”

  “Yeah, go learn stuff,” Joseph adds.

  Ata nods.

  “But don’t let them learn you too much,” Oto counters.

  Ata glares at him.

  “Good luck,” Grandmother calls.

  I cough. Luck and I don’t exactly get along.

  “And watch out for the Masters,” Chase adds.

  Mary-Ann begins to nod before stopping and glaring at him. Everyone else glares at him too. Why'd he have to go and drag Masters into this? We're finally safe from them.

  I glance at Christopher’s leg as he makes his way to the door to open it. For all he claims about that cane, I still see a slight limp. The effects of that family still haunting us.

  When Christopher and I finally make it to his car, his lips are doing that twitchy thing they do when he’s holding back a smile. “Well, that took longer than I thought it would.”

  I shrug. “I expected as much. Um, Christopher?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you know what career you want? I mean, besides being an Olympic athlete...” I blush and look down.

  Christopher doesn’t follow my gaze to his leg. “I don't think that's my calling anymore. I just know I want something more than running business- no offense to my father. What about you?”

  “No idea.”

  “Well then,” Christopher says, pulling out of the driveway, “let’s go find out together.”

  ~~~

  I look up at the large, new building that is the latest addition to Oxford University. It’s a hybrid of classicism and modernism, but unlike many hybrids, it's appealing to the eyes.

  Christopher takes my hand in his. “Let’s go get checked in.”

  I nod and together we walk inside a large hall with a floor so polished that it resembles glass. A large statue of a daisy with two leaves stands in the center of the room. On one leaf perches a small, metallic dove. On the other leaf is a long, metallic ribbon that flows off the leaf on the ground in graceful waves. When I get closer to the ribbon, I read this inscription carved into it:

  The Fates daren’t cut our lives short any longer.

  What an odd motto for a school.

  “Emily?” Christopher calls from the corner of the hall, where he stands next to a polished receptionist desk.

  “Coming!” I hurry over.

  “Emily Rogers?” the receptionist, a woman who seems just as polished as her desk, asks.

  “I am she.”

  “ID please.”

  I nod and hand her my driver’s license.

  The receptionist scans it and then hands it back with an ID card. “Walk straight down that hallway and out the door. Outside you’ll find two large buildings. The one on the right is the girls’ dormitory. This card will serve as your key as well as your ID.

  I study the card with the lackluster picture I had to send in to them last month. “Thank you.”

  The woman nods and Christopher and I follow her directions outside.

  “See you at dinner then,” Christopher says, handing me my suitcase.

  “See you then.” Taking a deep breath, I step into the building on the right.

  The main hall of the girls’ dorm is much more casual than the school’s hall, despite the identical receptionist desk in the corner. Half of the room is devoted to red and black lounge furniture and a massive flat-screen television which several teenage girls are already making useful.

  I walk over to the receptionist desk where a bored-looking receptionist with shifty eyes (probably from trying to see over people in attempt to watch the television) is waiting.

  I hand her my card. “I’m here to check in.”

  The woman nods and mutely scans my key card into her computer. Then she points down the hallway.

  I reclaim my card and make my way down the hallway pointed out to me. According to my key card, I need room 175. I don’t find it in that hallway, so I step into the elevator. Then I wander around the second floor for a while until I notice a teenage girl with a black bob, heavily-mascara-ed eyes, and a Disney-themed top.

  I do a double-take. “Mickey?!”

  The girl whirls around and grins. “Emily?!” Then she pulls me into an unexpected hug. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Well, random reunions seem to be the story of our lives.”

  Mickey shrugs. “It’s been so long since we last talked.”

  “I just called you the other day.”

  “Exactly; it’s been an eternity.”

  I raise an eyebrow.

  “So, how are you?” she asks. “Are you and Christopher still going out? Is Christopher here?”

  Before I have a chance to answer any of her questions, she cries, “Wait! Which room do you have?”

  “175.”

  Mickey squeals. “I have room 174. We’re neighbors!” She claps her hands together and jumps up and down.

  “Uh, do you know where my room is then?”

  “Oh, totally. I just came from my room. I’ll show you the way.” She grabs my arm and drags me down the hallway.

  I have to run to keep up with her and hope we don't get kicked out before coming to a halt outside the rooms with our numbers hanging on them. “Ta-da!”

  Taking a step back, I nod as I try to catch my breath. “Wow. Thanks.”

  “No problem. Wow, we’re neighbors. This is so great! Too bad we’re not roommates, though. Oh!” Mickey jumps and removes a phone from her pocket. She reads something on it and frowns
(unusual for her). “Got to take this. See you later.”

  “Later,” I agree before Mickey disappears into her room.

  Wow, that girl’s more enthusiastic than both my cousins combined. Well, it’s nice to have another familiar face around.

  I place my key card into my bedroom door. Pushing open the door, I find a completely spotless dorm bed, bed stand, and desk. Then I turn my head and find the other half of the room is a completely cluttered reflection of it.

  A teenage girl wearing all-black clothing, sliver jewelry (including two earrings in each ear), and more makeup than I’ve ever been allowed to wear at once, is plopped down on the bed. It takes me a moment to look past the apparel and see a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair (with a purple streak in it) a few inches shorter than my own, purple eyes, and a bored expression.

  I tentatively lift a hand. “Uh, hi. I’m Emily Rogers.”

  “I’m Violet Strokes,” she answers with a calmly bored yet assertive voice, barely looking up from her magazine. “You keep your stuff on your side of the room and mind your own business and we’ll get along just fine.”

  “Okay.” No need to anger anyone who looks like they could tear me to pieces without even breaking a nail.

  Not sure what else to say, I take in the rest of the bedroom: a bathroom door; an open, half-filled closet; and a half-cluttered dresser.

  “And if you’re a neat-freak,” Violet adds, closing her magazine and inspecting dark purple nails, “well, I don’t care.”

  I force a smile and push my organizing self to the back of my mind (where it protests loudly). “Okay.”

  Violet looks up from her nails and studies me. I do my best not to fidget.

  She cocks her head at me. “You know, I’ve decided that I like you, so I’m going to give you a little heads-up. Now, I’ve only been here since yesterday, but I’ve noticed that there’s something strange going on. Just thought I’d warn you.” With that, Violet Strokes plucks up a nearby fashion magazine and promptly ignores me.

  An adjusted mental list of all the unusual people I’ve met in my life:

  (1) Our next door neighbor at our second house who stole anything we left outside and sold it on Ebay;

  (2) My junior high science teacher who got too much pleasure from cutting up frogs;

  (3) Oto, who killed a bear the first time I met him;

  (4) Ata, who was about to be whipped to death the first time I met her;

  (5) The Masters, who are seriously messed up;

  (6) Joseph- need I say more?

  (7) Holly, who is part of the mystery that is Oto’s past (and she makes a leather jacket and a girly top look good together which is downright unnatural);

  (8) Mickey, who gives me whiplash;

  (9) Madame Monique, who is unnaturally hospitable;

  (10) Violet, who gives the Masters a run for their money in the scariness department;

  Chapter Three

  Olivia Doyle studies her computer. Finally, the long-awaited arrives from the Yin Program. She clicks it and reads:

  Accepted.

  The emails says more, but she doesn’t bother reading it. She’s too busy spinning her desk chair around in crazy circles of glee.

  Then, suddenly, her phone rings.

  Olivia stops spinning and answers it. “Hello?”

  “Olivia?” Mrs. O’Dell says, sorrow etched in her voice.

  Almost too scared to agree and get whatever the grief is, she answers, “I am she,” while bracing herself for the worst.

  “Have you seen Charisa since she’s left your house?”

  “No.”

  Mrs. O’Dell inhales deeply. “There… there’s been an accident.”

  “An accident?” Olivia’s heart clenches in fear.

  “Charisa called Carlos several hours ago to tell him that she and Kyle were going on a rescue mission near the Montgomery Museum of Fine Arts. Then an abandoned apartment complex nearby caught fire.”

  “A fire?”

  “Yes. No one knows what started it. But Hunter’s helmet and gas mask were found. And… and Ninja’s goggles. Nothing else.” Mrs. O’Dell releases a sob.

  Olivia blinks a moment, letting the information sink in. then she says, “Don’t worry, Mrs. O’Dell. They’re not dead.”

  “What?”

  “There were no bodies.”

  “Olivia, it was a fire.”

  “There were no bodies.”

  “If they’re not dead, then where are they?”

  “I don’t know-”

  “Where are they!” Mrs. O’Dell demands. Then she sucks in her breath again. “Sorry.”

  “It’s your nerves. Now, I don’t know where they are, but I believe-” Olivia bites her tongue to keep from sharing the rest of her theory. “They are alive and out there. Maybe the rescue didn’t go as planned and they’re still carrying it out. Remember Sheila?”

  “Possibly… but Charisa promised never to run away again.”

  “It’s not technically running away since she called Mr. O’Dell and told him her plans.”

  “But she still would’ve called me if it was going to take so long.”

  “Charisa doesn’t take her phone crime fighting.”

  “But Kyle does, and he’d call.”

  Olivia runs her finger in circles on her desk. “Maybe it was destroyed in the fire.” Maybe it was confiscated.

  “I don’t know,” Mrs. O’Dell says, her voice torn between hope and grief. “They’d still have found a way to contact us. I hope they’re alive, but I don’t want to feed false hope.”

  “It’s not false hope. It might take time, but the truth will reveal itself eventually. It always does. And when it does, you’ll be reunited with your daughter.”

  “Thank you. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Olivia re-pockets her phone and continues to run her fingers across her desk.

  Charisa and Kyle were still alive; of this she was certain of. But what happened to them? Why are they behaving like this?

  Olivia’s fingers begin to twirl faster. There was one theory that explained it all: it was a trap and they were kidnapped. But that theory caused another question to arise: who is strong enough to kidnap two superhumans?

  Olivia groans. Oh, what has Chrissie gotten herself into now?

  Chapter Four: Charisa

  The first thing I’m aware of when I wake up is that I feel no pain.

  Oh, great; I’m dead.

  Or my regenerating health is working its magic. That could be it too. There’s only on way to find out for sure…

  I open my eyes and find myself lying on a hospital-style bed in a metallic room filled with scary-looking, sterile tools. I’m wearing a simple, sturdy white blouse and equally simple, sturdy white pants- both of which remind me of hospital gowns.

  Well, this certainly isn’t heaven.

  I sit up and climb out of bed, setting off an alarm in the process.

  The sound pierces at my super-sensitive hearing, and I cover my ears and curl downward.

  That's when I notice a strange band around my ankle that I don’t remember putting on. It’s the kind that the people in nursing homes wear, and it’s no doubt the cause of the alarm.

  The large, jailhouse-like door swings open and a tall, pale woman with wavy brown hair hurries in. She’s wearing scrubs.

  I blink. “Where am I?”

  “Among friends,” she assures, touching buttons on what looks like a very complicated watch. The siren mercifully stops. “You were rescued from a burning warehouse-”

  I clutch the edge of my hospital bed. “And the other person I was with- was he rescued?”

  The woman lowers her head solemnly. “We rescued him from the building, but his wounds were too severe. I’m sorry, but he’s-”

  “No!” The word isn’t mine, though. Instead of breaking my heart, the word restarts it.

  Suddenly, there is a clamor outside, and Kyle runs in, wearing an outfit identical to mine, and looking rat
her beat up.

  The woman frowns. “Right there, apparently.”

  I run past her to the boy I thought I'd never see again. “Kyle!”

  “Chrissie!” he cries, picking me up and twirling me around. Then he winces and puts me back down. “They told me you were dead, but then I heard your voice.”

  Reaching up, I cradle his face in my hands. “I thought you were dead too.”

  We both turn toward the woman, but before either of us can do anything, another person steps into the room.

  The man is only a little taller than I, with Chinese features, disheveled black hair, and an over-all unkempt appearance. He blinks at us a little nervously. “Welcome.” Then he turns to the woman. “Wanda, were you being dishonest to our guests?”

  “They are more controllable when their spirits are broken,” Wanda points out. “Just look at our other girl.”

  I inch closer to Kyle.

  “And what would you have me do?” the man asks. “Keep them apart for the entire duration of their stay here? We don’t have time for such inefficiencies.” With that he turns to Kyle and me. “I’m Jin Yin, by the way.” He clears his throat. “Thanks for, uh, ‘rescuing’ me.”

  Kyle narrows his eyes. “Where are we?” His voice is low; a warning.

  “In an underground bunker,” Jin Yin answers. He clears his throat again. “It’s my, uh, lab.”

  My mouth goes dry. “Your lab?”

  Jin Yin nods. “I’d been developing a cure for cancer, and then I found a substance that could cure pretty much all diseases, and that could cure even weakness in general-”

  I stare at him.

  “Now don’t go thinking I’m Cure because of my crazy- er, crazy because of my Cure. You were empowered by a plant substance, were you not?”

  “But how-”

  “I was able to get a sample of the leaf that gave you your powers.” He gets a distant look in his eyes.

  “You have a tea leaf?!” I cry. Courtney might get her tea yet…

  “I put it through several tests to find the chemicals added to it to make it what it became. I didn’t find the exact solution, exactly. However, I did find something close.” He sighs deeply and rolls back on the balls of his feet. “Tragically, the leaf itself was exhausted in the process.”