Mercy

This is fan fiction of the Whateley Academy universe. I hope you like it.

No one noticed the smaller boy with the thick glasses as he navigated the hallways of his high school.

Which was exactly how he wanted it.

Being invisible beat the alternative.

His name was Matthew Marshall, and he had dealt with enough pain already, so he had no desire to add to it by getting attention.

His first encounter with grief had been five years ago, when his mother died. The second encounter came when he realized that his father had killed her ...

He fought back tears and tried to focus on getting to the next class.

But he couldn't stop remembering what happened next. Objects in his room began to move on their own, and he suddenly could feel the thoughts and feelings of others.

He eventually realized he was a mutant, but managed to hide that fact from his caregivers at the orphanage where he had been sent after his father's arrest.

For a while, he wanted to use his powers to hurt those who had hurt him, to strike back at the world for all the pain he had suffered.

But every time he got close to doing that, he felt like he could hear his mother telling him to refrain.

To show mercy instead of vengeance.

So now he mostly just used his ability to be unnoticed.

That was getting harder, because he had recently began to feel ... strange.

Pain in his hips, itching on his chest, and worse, a feeling in his stomach like someone was rearranging his internal organs.

“You need to go see the nurse” his mother's voice told him.

He resisted that, fearing the response he might receive.

But today the pain was getting too much.

Sweating, he fought to keep upright long enough to make it to the nurse's office before passing out ...

When he awoke, he found himself in a hospital bed, with a woman standing near him. When she saw him open his eyes, she said, “Welcome back to the land of the living, dear.”

“What ... what happened to me?” he managed.

“You nearly had a burnout. It sometimes happens to a mutant when they are adjusting to their powers.”

“Then ... you know what I am? What I can do?”

“Not all of it. We did some tests, but there are some that are better done when the subject is awake.”

“Are you gonna ... experiment on me?”

“No, dear. With your permission, we will help you learn what you can do, so you can control it. What you do after that will be your choice.”

“Who ... are you?”

“You can call me Lady Astarte, or Mrs. Carson. I run a school that helps young mutants learn how to control their abilities. And I would like you to come there.”

The woman sighed, and then added, “But before you do that, you ... need to see what you look like now. You've ... changed. “

“Do it, hon.”

“Mom?”

“Sort of, hon. you made a copy of my mind with your abilities. But the important thing is I am here, and I will help you. But you need to see what has changed.”

He shakingly stood, and looked in the mirror that the woman had brought with her.

The girl in the mirror was definitely cute. Not staggeringly beautiful, but very cute. An image came into his mind, of his mother as a teen.

“Yes, dear. You look a lot like I did at your age.”

The only really odd thing (other than the fact she was his reflection) was she had wings. They did not appear to be made of feathers, but of energy.

Fortunately, Mrs. Carson was fast enough that he didnt hit the ground when he collapsed ...

The beginning (I hope ...)