“I don't know what you think you're getting away with, young lady,” the nurse scolded the red headed little girl.
The
child sat on her hospital bed with her knees in her arms, rocking slightly.
Tears streamed down her face. “You shouldn't yell at me,” she murmured.
“What?”
the nurse scowled at the audacity. “How dare you? I've never met an eight year
old with such horrible manners!” The lecture continued but the little girl
buried her face in her knees. The metal service table next to her bed trembled
as if in a light earthquake. The nurse took no notice of this, being too upset
at what she saw as rude and disrespectful behavior. In a far corner of the room
a shadow formed and grew out across the walls and ceiling, reaching up over the
nurse’s head.
“You
need to look at me when I'm talking to you, little missy!”
The
little girl looked up, her face soaked with tears. Her expression was one of
agony, “You should run now,” she said desperately, “Please run away.”
The
nurse looked up to the darkness that now obscured the view of part of the room.
The girl hid her face sobbing, “No, no, no.”
A
new raspy voice floated into the room, “You mustn't suffer the children.”
The
nurse screamed. The sound echoed across the hospital ward, startling patients
and staff. Staff members ran to the sound, finding the air thick with the smell
of rancid smoke and burning flesh.
Larry
Peters pulled his motorcycle into the parking garage across from the government
office he worked at. His long blonde hair was windblown, but he didn't care. He
hated helmets. The Parahuman Activity Commission (PAC) existed to investigate
threats conventional law enforcement couldn't handle. He was better known by
his operating handle, Blacktide. His name came from his ability to emit
disintegration energy from his body. Disintegration energy is like a beam of
darkness or shadow that can move as fast as light.
Before Blacktide joined up with PAC he had
trouble controlling his powers. This caused great anxiety for him. He always worried
for friends and anyone he might come to care for. His powers manifested at a
very young age. Larry and his parents were sitting at breakfast when a surge of
his power made him and orphan. The event lives on his nightmares to this day.
Then he met his partner, a Twilie Demon called
Nyhtwulf. When they first met, the demon formed a psychic bond with Larry. That
bond allowed him to buffer Larry's powers and help him control them. At first it
was a violation of Larry’s extremely private life. However, they soon became
the best of friends and trusted partners.
As
Larry parked his bike, Nyhtwulf was nearby in his favorite delicatessen. Seeing
the shadowy werewolf-like being with huge black feathery wings come in to the cafe
always raised eyebrows and got attention. Since he usually moved intangibly, he
never bothered to open the door. Nyhtwulf would just ghost through it, often
startling patrons. Since his motives were always friendly, he never understood
the fuss. The owner had come to accept it, especially since Nyhtwulf was a
paying customer with a big appetite. Nyhtwulf had come for an entire box of his
favorite treat, bite sized cream cheese cubes in foil wrappers.
“Here
you go, just the way you like them and on your tab,” said the man at the register.
Nyhtwulf
snatched up the box with a lupine grin, “Thank you!”
On
his way out the deli, he tore open the box and popped a handful into his mouth,
wrappers and all.
“I
see you picked up your afternoon snack,” Larry said as he walked up on the busy
New York City street.
“Yes,
it's what I left early for.”
The
two of them shared a high loft apartment where Nyhtwulf could enjoy views of
the city and Larry could get some peace and quiet. They walked across the
street to the office building. Inside, they were greeted by Sally, the
receptionist, who gave them a sweet smile.
“He's
waiting for you and in a mood,” she said.
Commander
Henry P. Larratus was always in a gruff mood and short on patience. He expected
jobs to be done quickly and efficiently. Sometimes, the members of PAC liked to
aggravate him just to see his bald head turn red. They were, however, careful
not to do that too much. Blacktide and Nyhtwulf went straight to his office to
see what the news was.
“It's
about time you two got here,” Larratus grumbled as they walked in. “I've got
one that's right up your alley, Blacktide. A little girl who may be developing
dangerous powers. Burned a nurse pretty badly in the psych ward this morning.
Here, read the report.” He tossed a folder across the desk but didn't wait for
a response, “I want you to find out if she's developing or if it's something
else. Now get going.”
Once
you're dismissed by Commander Larratus, it means he has nothing more to tell
you so it's useless to ask. Larry took the folder and walked out of the office.
He went to his desk to look it over. As he read the nurse's story it reminded
him very much of his own. Thanks to their psychic link, Nyhtwulf read the
information at the same time without having to look.
“She's
just like me,” Larry said.
“Perhaps,”
Nyhtwulf answered as he put his box of cream cheese in their office
refrigerator.
They
set out immediately. The story of a little girl named Isa had piqued Larry’s
interest. Nyhtwulf flew overhead as Blacktide rode his motorcycle through the
thick daily traffic.
The psychiatric hospital lay on the
outskirts of the city in a peaceful green country setting. Pine trees and green
rolling hills complimented the place's floral and well kept grounds. Inside,
half of the children's wing had been evacuated. No one dared enter the little
girl's room. When Blacktide and Nyhtwulf arrived they could see the relief in
faces of the staff.
“No one can move
her and we're done trying,” and orderly said, “Our head nurse suffered third
degree burns all over her body.”
“Just
tell me which room is hers,” Larry said, not caring for the dismissive attitude
he saw mixed in with their fear. He couldn't shake how everyone turned their
backs on him once too. They blamed him for his powers when he never even asked
to have them. They were afraid of him.
“Room
115. Just don't upset her. That's when things go bad. Watch out for the
shadows.”
Larry
walked away from the orderly abruptly and headed for the room.
“I
will wait outside in order not to frighten the child,” Nyhtfwulf suggested. “I
do sense something.”
“Good
idea. What is it?”
“I'm
not sure yet.”
Isa
sat on her bed just as before and looked up when Larry knocked on the door
frame. He took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his leather jacket.
“Hey
there.”
“Are
you here to take me away?”
“Do
you want me to?”
She
shrugged, “I don't know if you can.”
“Well,
let's not think about that then. Instead, do you like stories?”
Hesitantly
she nodded.
“May
I come in and sit in that chair?”
Again
she nodded.
“My
name's Larry, but they call me Blacktide. What's your name?”
“Isa.”
“I
like that name.”
She
perked up a little, “So, what's your story about?”
Larry
leaned forward in his chair, “Well, when I was just a little older than you,
something really weird happened to me.” At the sound of this she perked up even
more.
“I
found out that I had an amazing ability. I could turn anything around me into
smoke. It's call disintegration. Do you know what happened after that?”
She
shook her head, wide-eyed with wonder.
“Everyone
got scared of me.”
“Everyone
is scared of me too!” Isa exclaimed, “Do you also have an imaginary friend?”
“Imaginary
friend?”
“I
have an imaginary friend, but he's not very nice. Is yours nice?” The table
next to the bed shook slightly.
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