A Spirited Emergence Episode 10: Revenge is sweet by D.L. Copyright  © 2010 D.L. All Rights Reserved. Never annoy a perfect mimic. You don't know what they might get up to while pretending to be you.

I arrive in the hallway where Susan is standing, with Mary and Tracy in tow. Coach Sanders and Mr Spencer are already on scene. There is a nasty stench in the air, and it’s coming from Susan.

Mr Spencer asks, “What happened?”

“I opened my locker and that thing,” Susan responds pointing at an object in her locker, “exploded and covered me in this foul liquid.” She is clearly upset and appears to be on the point of tears.

I quickly inspect the inside of the other lockers with my remote vision to see if there are any more surprises. There appears to be a similar device in my locker as well. It’s hooked to the back of the locker and a string is tied to the inside of the lock. Whoever put these here did a good job. Opening the locker door more than about an inch pulls the string releasing the pin out of the canister causing it to explode.

I quickly move to my locker and open it a fraction, being careful not to detonate the device. I close the locker again and turn to the teachers.

“There appears to be another device in my locker, does anybody have a pair of scissors handy?” I ask.

Tracy hands me a pair from her pencil case. I reopen the locker far enough to slip the scissors in and cut the cord tied to the door. I then open the door so that the teachers can see what’s within.

All of my belongings are still inside. Sat on top of them is a spray canister. It’s a joke device bought online with the name of the website printed on the side. I take a tissue out of my bag, wrap it round the device and hand it to Mr Spencer. I then place my bag into the locker and lock it back up. The security of the locker has obviously been compromised, but I need to offload my belongings, as I will have to end my projection during the lunch break.

I look down the corridor and spot Dimwit and Thicky laughing from a distance.

This is the last straw. I’m normally a calm and collected person who doesn’t anger quickly, but these two are really making my blood boil. I have simply had enough of their games. I can put up with a lot of crap as long as it’s aimed only at me, harming my friends really pushes my berserk button.

“You bastards!” I yell in their direction and storm off down the corridor towards them.

“Mr Palmer,” Coach Sanders warns me in a stern voice as I pass. I pay her no attention whatsoever.

Dimwit has stopped laughing by this point and is watching me approach.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Daisy,” he says in a soft voice intended for only me to hear.

This only annoys me even more. I don’t waste any time, grabbing him round the throat with both hands, I shove him up against the wall.

“Listen here, Dimwit, I have had enough of your childish antics. Susan could have been blinded by that prank if that stuff had gone into her eyes. Any more shit and I will destroy you. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and this is one girl you don’t want to mess with.” I shout in his face while squeezing his neck. Thicky is unsuccessfully trying to pull me off his friend.

“Unhand Mr Scott this instant!” Coach Sanders bellows at me. I let go of Dimwit, who starts panting for breath. “Mr Palmer, report to my office immediately,” the coach states. I turn and head in the direction of the sports block, still angry with Dimwit. The crowd that has gathered to watch my outburst parts as I storm off.

Mary and Tracy start to follow me and I yell to them, “Leave me alone!” Seeing the mood I am in, they decide to err on the side of caution and stay to help Susan. Coach Sanders leads Susan through to the front office and nurse’s office, no doubt to call my Aunt to collect her, and wash off some of the foul smell. Mr Spencer escorts Dwain and Freddy away for questioning.

I arrive at the coaches’ office, but it is locked. Frustrated I slam my palm into the surface of the door while kicking it. I look around to see if anybody is watching. Nobody is about so I simply walk through the door, irritated at the situation. I decide it’s time to get even with those two idiots and I have a brilliant idea on how to do it. We have one classroom set up as a TV studio, and after checking the coast is clear with my remote vision, I teleport my projection into it. Due to the valuable equipment, the room is kept locked when not in use.

I quickly set to work making a short video starring my two nemeses. Fifteen minutes later there is a new video up on YouTube, I have set up an account especially. I email the video link to every single student and teacher. Each student has a school-issued email address, and most of them have been set to auto forward onto private mailboxes. Normally only teachers have the ability to access the full address book and send global mail, but when you can watch the keyboard from a few inches away while a teacher enters their password, it isn’t that difficult to hack in and use the function.

I return to the coaches’ office and await Ms Sander’s appearance. I don’t have long to wait. An angry Coach Sanders opens the door and enters the room, slightly surprised to see me inside. I am sat in one of the comfortable chairs with my arms crossed looking straight ahead. I ignore her entrance.

“There you are, I have been looking for you. How did you get in here?” she exclaims.

“You told me to wait here, so here I am,” I reply sarcastically.

“Susan is currently in the shower in the nurse’s office cleaning that gunk off. Your Aunt is on her way to collect both of you. Susan is being given the afternoon off, and you have been given a half-day suspension for your attack on Dwain Scott. You have Mr Spencer to thank that it isn’t an expulsion. He argued that you were under severe emotional stress following an incident earlier.”

“That bastard deserves what’s coming to him,” I state angrily.

“That may well be the case, but we have no proof that he is responsible for the actions against you and Susan. Going off in a rage is simply going to land you in as much trouble as he is. Revenge is not the answer,” Ms Sanders tells me.

“Maybe not,” I reply, smiling at her evilly, “but it’s very satisfying.”

“This ends now. You are behaving just as badly as he is. Don’t sink to his level. Do you really want an all-out war?” she asks.

I don’t give an answer, but instead go back to staring straight ahead. At this moment, war is acceptable. War isn’t about who is right, it’s about who is left, and I have the tactical advantage with my secret weapons. I have already thought up my next move. I wonder if Dimwit has ever read Dickens’ Christmas Carol. I have, and I fancy turning him into Scrooge.

I am led through to the front of the school where my Aunt is waiting. On our way, we stop at my locker so that I can collect my belongings. We reach the front of the school and Susan comes out of the nurse’s office dressed in a tracksuit. Aunt Janice must have brought it.

Aunt Janice signs the release forms to state she has collected us and leads us to the car. She doesn’t look at all happy with the situation. I can tell she is annoyed as she is giving us both the silent treatment. We get in the car, Susan in the front and me in the rear. My aunt starts to drive us home.

After about a quarter of a mile, I sigh deeply and ask my aunt, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She glances at me through the rear view mirror, “What?” she asks in an annoyed voice.

“I’m not really here, this is only a projection, and I’m about to reach the limit of my range,” I state as I fade out.

I return to my body in the empty shop unit, collect my things and head out of the back door, locking it behind me as I leave. Being in no mood to listen to a lecture from Aunt Janice, I quickly walk back towards the school before she has chance to turn up. The front gates are patrolled to make sure only those with permission can leave. Mr Ellis is standing at the gates checking students as they enter and leave. In order to leave school during the lunch hour you need parental permission, and this is indicated on your school ID.

I don’t have my school ID on me, and it wouldn’t do any good as it’s for David, not Jennifer. I cross the street and head into a nearby park. Finding a secluded spot, I sit down and make myself comfortable for projecting. I can’t stay here all afternoon, as my presence will be questioned after the lunch hour has finished.

Using my remote vision, I come up with a plan for gaining a new school ID. All the materials I need are in a room beside the main school office. It is a stationery cupboard and machine room. Inside are a number of locked metal cabinets, a Xerox machine, guillotines for trimming paper and a laminator for encasing paper in plastic. I project myself into the room, but do so as Mr Ellis in case anybody walks in on me.

I switch on the laminator so that it is heating up. I search through the cupboards with my remote vision to locate the blank templates for the ID cards. These are sheets of paper pre-printed with a complex background pattern and small hologram and are designed so that they cannot easily be forged. They are in one of the metal cabinets. I don’t have the key, so reach through the door. Making my hand solid inside the cabinet, I get hold of one of the sheets and pull it through the gap in-between the doors.

With much concentration, I project into my hand a piece of paper with my photo, name, and various other details in the correct position for copying onto the ID. I load the blank template into the manual feed tray and place the projected paper on the glass. I activate the copier and it transfers the details onto the template. I take the newly copied ID sheet and fold it in half. I trim it to size and feed it through the laminator. This encases the folded paper in plastic. I take the newly created ID card and switch off the laminator.

I now need to get the card to my current location. I put the card in my pocket and make myself invisible. This doesn’t work as the card can now be seen floating in mid air. I sigh and rethink my plan. I take the card in my hand and open the door slightly. I keep myself invisible and make only the very tips of my fingers solid, just enough to carry the ID card. I bend over and walk out into the corridor so that the card is floating just above the ground. I walk past the reception desk, keeping the card out of sight of the office staff.

I push the card through a gap in between the front doors and skirt round the edge of the building. Instead of going to the front gates where Mr Ellis is on duty, I head to the side of the campus near the Hamilton Road shops. Checking that nobody is about, I throw the card over the wall and catch it as I appear on the other side. This time I am projecting myself as police chief Millward, with whom I spoke at the bank heist. I casually walk to my current location. I note that my aunt’s car is now parked in Hamilton Road.

I quickly bring the card to my body and end my projection. I head back to the school gates and enter the grounds. On the way past, I show my pass to Mr Ellis, who checks and acknowledges that it has the symbol displayed allowing me out of school grounds at lunchtimes. I don’t have to worry about being recognised later, as Mr Ellis is a temporary teacher who is only with us for a few weeks while Mr Cobbler is recovering from prostate surgery. He doesn’t know many students, and won’t be about if I later join the school as Jennifer.

I head to the bike sheds and attach the cool box to my bike. I lock it on with the bike chain so it can’t be removed. I have already taken some food out of it and I‘m munching on some chocolate.

It feels slightly strange to be back in school in the flesh, rather than pretending to be David. As I’m just another face in the crowd, I’m able to walk the halls unchallenged. I head for the door that leads under the stage. I wait until nobody is looking and quickly open the door from inside using a quick projection. I slip in and close the door behind me.

Nobody is going to find me in here and I can watch the fun unfold without having to stretch my powers. There is still about half an hour of lunchtime left. I decide to see if anybody has seen my email yet. I take a quick look into the computer room. Considering the commotion, it would appear that at least some students have watched the video already.

I hear the P.A. system activate and call Dwain and Freddy to the principal’s office. I decide to look in on this, as it’s bound to be worthwhile. The boys arrive and I watch them enter the room. Principal Edwards has a certain email up on screen. He indicates for them to sit and then shows them what he has displayed on the monitor. The subject line reads “A public apology to all students” and it looks like it has been sent by the principal himself.

When opened, the wording ‘Dwain Scott and Freddy Forrester would like to issue an apology’ appears in large red letters. Below that is a photo of Dwain and Freddy in drag and a link to a YouTube video. The photo is a still taken from the start of the video.

Both boys look shocked at the email in front of them. They deny all knowledge. I keep a close eye on their faces as the video clip is played to them.

The video shows both of them sat side by side in the school TV studio. It is a long shot so that we can see both of them from head to toe. I had to use a split screen technique and merge two clips together to get the effect, but it’s impossible to see the join.

Dwain is dressed up like a toddler. He is wearing a pink dress, which is covered in lace on every edge. There is a classic Peter Pan collar, and short puffy sleeves. He’s also wearing a pink plastic bib with a teddy bear on the front. The skirt is very short and is puffed out with five layers of petticoats. His hairy legs are visible. Dwain is wearing short lace ankle socks and classic Mary Jane type shoes. The camera is angled so that it’s looking right up his skirt and the cloth diaper can clearly be seen, emphasised by the overly large safety pin holding it on. To finish the effect he is sucking a pacifier.

Freddy is sat next to him in an equally embarrassing outfit. He’s wearing a red skin-tight rubber cat suit, which has an overly large fake cleavage sticking out. It doesn’t look realistic. The suit includes a short miniskirt. Again, he is sat so that the camera can see up the skirt, revealing a thong. There is a slight bulge sticking out at his crotch, but it’s smaller than would be expected. He is holding his hands across his stomach because they are tied together with pink fluffy handcuffs. On his feet are bright red seven-inch platform stilettos. Clipped to his belt is a large leather whip.

This same scene is inserted as the photo in the email message.

After a few seconds, the scene changes to a close-up of Dwain’s face. It is a flawless rendition, my photographic memory allowing me to get every detail deadly accurate. Dwain is clearly recognisable, although he is wearing a degree of makeup. His lips are bright red and he has overdone blush on his cheeks in two red spots. The pacifier is gone.

“I, Dwain Scott, would like to say sorry for my naughtiness over the last few months. I have been a very bad boy, calling people bad names. I have been saying that some boys are sissies, when I’m a bigger sissy than they are,” he says, and then pauses before continuing, “I also snuck into the girls’ changing rooms to see them naked.” He smiles at that. “Mistress Winifred is going to punish me for my behaviour. I don’t mind, but I think she likes it.” Dwain frowns at that idea. I have deliberately chosen very childish language and he is speaking with a slight lisp fitting for a two-year-old girl.

The scene changes to Freddy. Again, his face is easily recognisable despite the hideously overdone makeup that makes him look like a hooker. He is smoking Cannabis. After taking a deep inhale, he removes it and exhales a puff of smoke. I am getting good with my projections. His hands are still tied together with the handcuffs.

“I’m Mistress Winifred, better known to most of you as Freddy Forrester. I would also like to apologise for assisting little Miss Dawn here to bully my fellow students. For my punishment, I will only flail myself twenty times each evening, instead of my usual forty. I also have to change Dawn’s diapers, not a very pleasant task. Whipping Dawn is just for fun.”

The video ends with another long shot of the both of them. A very large farting sound is heard and Dwain pouts and says, “Dawn needs a diaper change.” Freddy looks across disgustedly as the scene fades to black.

Both Dwain and Freddy’s faces have turned very pale as they sit and watch the video in silence. Neither can believe the footage before them.

Both are questioned by the Principal, but neither can provide answers. They deny all knowledge of making the video and sending it round the school, pointing out that they would never do that to themselves, as it’s social suicide, and that it has to be faked.

My name is mentioned as a possible suspect. Well, that was to be expected, I have just threatened to destroy them. I think I have successfully destroyed any street-cred they may have had.

Nobody can work out how it was done. They know when and where it was filmed, and the computer used to send it, the one in the TV Studio. They also know that it was Principal Edwards’s credentials used to log in. However, the room has been locked the whole time and nobody was seen entering or exiting the room. The studio is soundproofed, so nobody outside even realised the room was in use. Dimwit and Thicky were being interviewed by Mr Spencer while I was making the film, which unfortunately gives them an alibi.

Seeing Dimwit and Thicky in trouble again lightens my mood. Not only was it entertaining to watch, it’s also taken the heat off my own video incident earlier in the day. I decide that as I am here I might as well attend afternoon lessons. Well, not in person, but I can sit here and view the action.

As I am only remote viewing instead of projecting, I can take notes while I sit under the stage. I always carry a spare pen and small notepad in my coat pocket. I spend the afternoon watching my normal lessons. Come the end of the afternoon, I calm down and decide it’s time to face the music.