---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 1
 

Beep, beep, beep...

Good morning folks, this is KTIE in the morning with Larry Buffet reminding you to have a safe day and, as my old mother used to say, never change! Now let's start you off with some music, Fire on the Mountain by the Lampposts!

I rolled over and flailed with my hand at the Device of Ultimate Evil, trying to hit the snooze button. I ended up knocking it off the night stand and, probably thanks to some sin I committed in a previous life, the damn thing didn't turn off. "Argh!" I was going to have to get out of bed to make it stop, or would I?

I levered myself over the side of the bed, trying my best to keep my head on the pillow while doing so, and reached down. The very tip of my fingers found something, and I scrabbled at it. It was just out of reach. Damn this tall bed! I leaned over some more, almost able to touch the oh-so-important button, when I felt myself starting to slide over the side. I desperately tried to hold on to the bed to stop myself falling, but since what I ended up getting hold of was the cotton sheets, I still ended up on the floor slumped in a heap with the sheet covering my head. But on the up side I did end up touching the magic button and blessed silence filled my room.

I started to doze off again there on the floor, but I was not to journey to the realm of Morpheus. Instead there came a knocking on my bedroom door and my mother's happy sing song voice telling me to get up.

"Rise and shine, Adam William Oakson, it's time to get up."

I groaned, morning people are the spawn of the devil. Wait, if my mother was the spawn of the devil, what does that make me? Grand-spawn of the devil? I wondered if I could borrow my gramp's pitchfork some time; I could use it on the Device of Ultimate Evil.

The knock came again. "Adam I can hear you in there!" she said with a musical note in her voice. "Don't make me open this door!"

"I'm up, I'm up," I said flopping over onto my back and gazing up at the black ceiling fan twirling at the top of my room.

Okay now, what was the next thing I needed to do? Oh right stand up; it's that thing you do with your feet. I lurched up, the sheet falling to pool at my feet, and looked around my room blearily.

My room was a mess, drawers were hanging out, items of apparel were strewn about and it appeared that something was moving under a pile of clothes that might or might not be clean; I couldn't tell which until I studied them more carefully.

So the room cleaning fairies hadn't come by to tidy up this time either. And I had even left out a saucer of milk. Well maybe not milk, but shouldn't some Coke I spilled on a plate last night count for the same thing? What decent brownie wouldn't want some nice, sugary soft drink over boring milk? I was starting to really distrust that book of fairy tales my parents had read to me when I was small.

I did the hopping from one spot where carpet showed to another routine until I made it to the bathroom door. I opened it to the usual shriek of "Adam get out!" from my little blonde haired, blue eyed sister who was standing there doing something arcane to her face.

"Putting on our clown makeup are we?" I teased, knowing it would get her goat up. She had just started middle and thanks too much wheedling and whines of "But all the other girls are!" our mother had let her start using makeup. I made it a point to torture my little sister as much as I could in accordance with the maior natu frater consilium. And, in accordance with the minor natu germane consilium, she made it a point to complain to our parents and get me in trouble as much as possible. So I guess you could say we loved each other and got along pretty well.

I scooted behind her and passed through the door that led from the sink and mirror half of the bathroom to the part that had the shower in it. I turned on the shower and did the usual routine. Water on body, soap on body, scrub. Water on head, some kind of knockoff men's shampoo on head, scrub, rinse all and done.

I was starting to feel more like a human being as I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I opened the door to the half bath and bumped my sister out of the way so I could brush my teeth. She yelled something about me being an asshole but I ignored her. From experience, I knew if I tried to wait for her to finish, I would be there all day. Sheesh, girls take a long time.

Back in my room the pile of clothes that had been moving earlier sprouted a tail and let out a long yawn before standing up. My big, brown, pure pedigree mixed breed mutt walked over to me and sniffed at the towel. I have no idea why; he sniffs everything then usually tries to eat it.

"Bring me my clothes Harvard, go on, fetch." He stared up at me with penetrating brown eyes before letting out another yawn and lying down on my feet. I get no respect. He passed some gas. Yep, no respect at all.

I eventually found some clean clothes, or at least some clothes that didn't smell too bad and weren't wrinkled, and got dressed. I looked presentable enough for a sixteen year old. About average height with blue eyes like my sister's (we get them from our mother) and short cut brown hair. I wasn't exactly muscular, but I was in good shape and did plenty of running to stay that way.

I made it down to the kitchen just as my mother was placing a plate of eggs in the center of the table. I scooped half of them off onto my plate and sat down.

"Morning Kiddo," said my dad from his seat at the table where he was reading the morning newspaper. This had been his morning greeting to me since before I could remember.

I mumbled good morning back to him through a mouth full of eggs.

"Adam, don't talk with your mouth full!" my Mom snapped.

I rolled my eyes, but made it a point to slow down.

I was half way through the eggs when Harvard came galumphing down the stairs. He skittered some when he got to the tile floor at the foot of the stairs but quickly regained his footing. He settled in next to me and started giving me "The Look."

"You're not getting any; this is my breakfast," I said, giving him MY Look. He gave a low whine/groan in the back of his throat and wagged his tail.

"No, that won't work either; you will ruin your own breakfast."

Our battle of Looks continued until Harvard upped the ante. He gave the triple whine and lifted his paw placing it on my leg. I cracked and threw him a piece of egg which he caught in midair. He was gracious in victory and settled back onto his hind legs to wait for more of the spoils of war.

I kept on eating, occasionally throwing more of my food to him and watching him snap it out of the air. For the fun of it, I started throwing the pieces of food to the left or right of where he was sitting. He never missed a one. This was an old game for us.

I finished up, and, seeing no more food coming, Harvard went out of the room and a moment later returned with his leash in his mouth. He was sitting next to the counter, and his tail thumped against the cabinets beneath it.

"Take that dog out of here before he makes a hole with his tail!" my mother mock ordered.

"All right boy, come on, I'll take you for your walk, but no doing you know what in the McCfinlies yard again, you know how much that upsets them," I said. I swear that Harvard grinned at me. The McCfinlies had once found him in their flower beds one night after he had jumped the fence (or however he gets out, I still don't know how he does it) at night and chased him around their yard, and while he would have normally seen this as a fun game, the McCfinlies had been throwing things at him, which he considered cheating.

I took the leash from him and walked with him to the front door. Harvard really didn't need the leash, and most of the time I didn't even keep him on it. I just kept it around in case someone raised a fuss.

The sun was just starting to reach over the horizon and cast long shadows of the oak trees in the front yard. A mockingbird chirped sleepily, probably wondering if the worm was really worth it, or maybe I was just projecting. The air was a bit humid, but the temperature was still in the 60s, which was nice for Texas in early April. It would get hotter in no time as it was, which I was actually looking forward to this year. It had been a cold and wet winter, and, while there hadn't been any snow this year, it had been a close thing.

Snow in Texas, while unusual, isn't unheard of. It had snowed three years back, but there was some controversy about the whole thing. It wasn't just some snow; this was a full out blizzard. I know, a blizzard in south Texas sounds unlikely, doesn't it? It's even more unlikely sounding when you know that it dropped two and a half feet of snow in one night. People were noticeably distraught, and the whole place had come to a standstill for days.

It had the meteorologists baffled. The nightly news was full of experts arguing with each other. Some claimed that this was the effect of global warming and that it was only the beginning. Others blamed mutants and debated different heroes and villains who might have been capable of it. Those heroes and villains denied having had anything to do with it, well except for one Vinny the Villainous. Who claimed he did it but also claimed that that he flew around the world backwards to turn back time and found pirate treasure on the moon. No one took him too seriously. Besides, he still lived with his mother.

Some people even blamed secret government experiments. Myself, I think that the prayers of millions of kids wanting a day off had finally reached critical mass and spontaneously generated the blizzard. I had more than just days off from school to be grateful for; it was the night of the storm that I found Harvard. Just like every other Texas kid, I was out in the snow (shivering my ass off), when out of the storm walked a dog. He had ice frosted on his fur and gave me a long mournful stare before going to the front door and scratching, clearly wanting to be let in. I snuck him into my room and was able to hide him for two days before I was found out. Looking back on it now it was probably me saying I was saving my vegetables for later when I would take them to my room that tipped of my parents. I ended up grounded for a month, but Harvard just gave one of his soulful looks and was admitted as one of the family.

I walked down the sidewalk, headed towards the empty wooded lot that was at the end of our street. On the way there, we had to pass the McCfinlies, Harvard raced from my side and squatted in the middle of their yard, a look of concentration on his face.

"Oh come on! I said not to do that!" I said in a low voice, not wanting the McCfinlies to hear me arguing with my dog. He just gave me that doggie grin again and continued his business. I sighed and turned my back to him, giving him some privacy.

He was done soon enough and we continued back on our way. Most of the houses had lights on in the windows as their owners got ready for work or school. I waved as one of them pulled out of the driveway on their way to wherever. People were used to seeing me walk my dog in the morning, and Harvard knew better than to be on the road when a car was coming.

The empty lot was quiet when we got there. The night insects had stopped their noise, and the day ones hadn't started up yet.

I sat down on a tree stump and watched as Harvard did his usual investigation of the area. He was sniffing at a bush, when my view of him suddenly changed. Well, it wasn't actually him that changed, it was everything around him. Everything seemed to be filled with glowing energy that almost looked like patterns. Just as suddenly as the strange image had appeared, it was gone again, and I was just seeing my dog. He walked back from where he had been sniffing the pile of ground cover under a bush to me and laid his head on my leg, giving me a soulful look.

"Well, that was weird, boy. Maybe I should see about an eye exam." I said shaking my head. He huffed at me and just pressed his head more firmly against my body. I obligingly gave his ears a rub.

"I guess it's time we were heading back; don't want to be late for the bus." I levered myself off of the stump and headed back to my house, Harvard trotting companionably at my side.

The house was in the late stages of what I called 'oh shit, what did I forget this time' that happened right before everyone was ready to leave. My sister was looking for her shoes, complaining that it must have been Harvard that moved them, Mom was busy gathering up her papers from the dining room table that she used as her [i]de facto[/i] office, and Dad was looking for his keys.

"Adam what did that stupid dog of yours do with my shoes?" Kelly said bearing down on me. Both Harvard and I put on the same injured look (except I couldn't lay my ears back no matter how many times I tried.)

"I have no idea what you are talking about; you probably just left them lying about somewhere like you always do."

I gave Harvard a little nudge unnoticed by Kelly, and he got up and walked out of the room.

"Remember the last time you blamed my dog for moving your stuff and it turned out it had been in your room the whole time? You know, now that I come to think of it..." I watched as Harvard snuck back into the living room and, behind Kelly's back, dropped the pair of sandals she wanted to wear today off under the sofa, then hurried back out. "...I think I remember you taking off your shoes in the living room when you got home the other day. You were over by the couch. Have you checked there?"

"Of course I have checked there!" she said stalking over to the sofa and bending over. "And they weren't...oh! I could have sworn they..." she stood up holding her little white sandals with straps that went around her ankles and a confused, then contrite, expression on her face.

"Sorry Adam, I guess I must have missed them." There was a bark from Harvard where he was sitting in the kitchen. "And I'm sorry, Harvard." Kelly said going over and petting him.

He had a satisfied expression on his face as she continued making much of him for several minutes with a lot of cooing and baby talk. I went and got my backpack from my room while this was going on and made my way back down to the living room. "You ready, sis? The bus should be here pretty soon."

She gave up on the petting, went over to the couch, and sat down to put her sandals on. Mom had finally gotten all of her papers stacked together and back into her bag. She grabbed it, her car keys, and a thermos of coffee as she made her way past me.

"Have a nice day at school, kids; try to stay out of trouble. Adam, I want to see how you did on that test when you get back home today. I expect at least a B if not an A." she said, leaning over to give me a kiss goodbye.

"All right Mom, I'll see this afternoon as well, have a good day at school." My mom worked at the local high school, luckily not the one I was going to. I don't know how I would have dealt with her teaching in the same building I was going to. My classmates would never have let me live something like that down.

I hurried my sister out the door, and we made it to the end of the drive way just in time to meet the bus. Once we got on the bus, my sister and I immediately began acting as if we were just two unrelated people that happened to get on the bus at the same time. This is, of course, standard operating procedure for all siblings in such circumstances; I think it's down in the rules somewhere. Kelly stayed up near the front of the bus, which in this social order was reserved for the youngest passengers. I headed towards the back. I was a sophomore in Walker High School, so I didn't sit in the very back of the bus where the upperclassmen that didn't have rides would sit.

This suited me just fine, since I was certain I had the best seat on the bus. Why you might ask? It's not because of any special position with respect to the front or back of the bus, nor did it have any special perks in the cooling or air flow departments (anyone that has been in a Texas school bus knows that such things are none existent.) No, what was so great about this seat was that I got to sit next to her, Brook, arguably the most beautiful girl in the whole Sophomore class (well, at least I would argue that she was) and my best friend. I had received plenty of jives and pointed comments like "how come you're always hanging around with her, you're nothing, this just doesn't make sense."

I guess some guys just can't understand why someone as hot as her would hang out with me. Sometimes I didn't understand it either. But we had been friends since second grade when I had tried to beat up a boy that pushed her into a pond. I say try because I wasn't having much luck at the time; luckily for me Brook got out of the pond and proceeded to whoop his ass, saving mine in the bargain. I guess she felt it was the thought that counted since we were fast friends from then on.

"Hey Adam!" she said smiling at me as I sat down.

"Hey Brook. How's it going?"

"You know, about the same. Did you watch the game last night?" she asked

Brook was obsessed with sports; she couldn't get enough of watching It. She would have probably tried out for the football team at the beginning of the school year if her mom hadn't put her foot down. I, on the other hand, just didn't get it. She must have somehow gotten my share of the male sports loving genes, probably from when we were younger and would wrestle. She got me in enough choke holds and arm locks for something to have popped out of me and into her.

Wrestling, that's something I wouldn't mind doing with her again now that we were older. I had a brief vision of Brook and I locked together bodies rubbing against each other all hot and...

"Adam, earth to Adam! Can you hear me?" Brook said snapping her fingers in front of my face.

"Wha, yeah!" I tried desperately to remember what had happened in the game when I saw my dad watching it in the living room last night. "The Texans were doing good right?"

She rolled he eyes at me. "Football season ended months ago, honestly you lose more man points every time there is a game."

"That's because they are getting swallowed up by the great and terrible Brookanator! But it's okay; no one has tried to take my man card away from me yet," I teased back.

She laughed, throwing her head back so the sun made golden highlights in her hair. Did I mention yet that I was in love with her? Totally and completely head over heels in love with her. Of course she was oblivious, and I knew a guy like me had no chance with a girl like her. Friends were one thing, but boyfriend? Not a chance. And I wasn't going to make our friendship awkward by saying anything.

"Of course they haven't; they would have to find out where you hide it first." she said, patting my arm lightly. I felt a tingle in my arm when she touched it that translated instantly to a swelling in the trouser department. I tried to laugh it off.

"No one will ever find where it is hidden; that is my secret and mine alone. Muahahaha!" I said giving the evil laugh that extra little touch of villainy that only some of the best super villains could achieve.

We went on with our joking around until we got to the exchange point where the kids in junior high and middle school would get off our bus and get on to ones headed their way. It was in front of an old antique store that had a large parking lot and didn't mind having the buses taking all the space for a few minutes in the morning. I guess they didn't really have a high demand for antiques at seven in the morning. But then again, what do I know; maybe there are roving bands of little old ladies that like to get out before all the good old stuff is gone. The world of antique acquisition is a closed first edition 19th century book to me.

I watched carefully as Kelly got off our bus and made her way over to the one that would take her to school. I did it casually, since it wouldn't do to have my sister think I was concerned about her getting on her bus safely. Sibling code and all that.

Some of the high schoolers that had ridden in on the other buses had made their way over to ours and were taking their seats. I felt a punch in the back of my seat as Ken Lancaster sat down behind us.

"Sorry about that dweeb, just settling myself in." he said in a falsely apologetic voice. There came a few more punches as he 'settled in' and I gave a sigh of exasperation.

"Come on Ken we are in high school, don't you think you could drop the junior high games?"

"Don't know what you're talking about dweeb." He said giving a few more punches. The rest of the ride to the school went like that, with punches being thrown against the back of my seat every now and then, and half heard laughing remarks between Ken and his friends. I did my best to ignore it, and Brook and I talked some about what had happened over the weekend.

She had gone to visit her uncle the next town over for a get together of her family. I always liked hearing about her family, since they always sounded like a lot of fun people. She had a large family with lots of aunts and uncles and cousins out the wazoo. Nothing like my family which was just my mom, dad, sister and Mema and Papaw, my dad's mother and father, and we didn't get to see them much since they lived up in Kansas.

We were almost to the school and had started talking about the new Physics project that we were going to start today. We were of course going to team up to do it. When Ken stood up behind us and leaned over the back of our seat.

"What are you doing working on a project with this loser for? You should come be partners with me." He said with a leering grin at Brook.

"You're not even in our AP Physics class Ken, so there's not much chance that I will do anything with you." Brook said with obvious scorn.

"Come on now babe, don't be like that. I am sure I can think of some other things we could do together." He said reaching down and squeezing her breast.

Brook immediately knocked his hand away and yelled "Get your fucking hand off of me!"

Fury was snapping in her eyes, and she was standing up probably to give him a damn hard slap to the face, but I had already moved before she got the chance. I was up, and my fist was flying into Ken's blocky face. I had never been this mad before. I was going to pound Ken till my hands turned blue, then I was going to start using my feet.

Ken was rocked back in his seat, and his nose had erupted in a crimson fountain, splattering his friend and the wall behind them. But that didn't keep Ken down for long. He was on the football team and must have been used to taking a hit, or maybe he just had too much muscle in his head for a blow to really do anything.

He was out of his seat in an instant and grabbing for me. There were yells of "Fight!" from the people around us, and other kids were standing up in their seats to get a better look. I ducked as best I could away from the bear-like paw that Ken was swinging and scrambled into the aisle, trying to get more room. I tried to get another punch in at him but only managed a glancing blow to his shoulder that had as much chance of stopping him as gnat. I was really starting to wish that I had followed up on the martial arts class I had thought about taking last summer instead of playing fighting games on the old game console instead. I didn't see any way that mashing buttons would help me in this fight.

That last punch turned out to have been a bad idea, since Ken was able to rush me with my arm extended and get me in a head lock. I had time for a quick thought of 'Oh fuck' before my face exploded in pain. Then it did it again and again. I wasn't really sure what was going on at that time, since I was stuck in that bit of reality where only you and the pain go together, but the next thing I knew, I was on the floor of the bus and there were the yells of adult voices. Teachers, my mind categorized them. Great, I am going to be in sooo much trouble.

I was hustled up and away from the bus and after a brief stop in the nurse's office, I found myself in the assistant principal's office, waiting on his pleasure. I was later to learn that while I was busy getting my face introduced to Ken's fist Brook had pulled out her Physics text book and gave him a number of thumps upside the head. There is something amusing about using a physics book to get physical. I am sure there is a joke in there somewhere and I intended to hunt it down so I could use it on Brook. While Ken was trying to keep the power of science from contacting with his head, the bus had already pulled up to the school and a load of teachers had piled onto the bus to break it up.

Unluckily for Ken the teachers that had broken it up had also happened to be coaches. While it might be in some schools that this would have been special treatment for one of their players, at our school it just meant that Ken was in for some real punishment come practice time. The head coach at our school ran a tight ship and didn't stand for anything that made him look bad.

Not that that was much comfort to me as I waited for my turn in the AP's office. Brook was already in there, having been caught red handed physically assaulting Ken. Get it, physically assaulting him? I'm going to have to remember that one for later. And they had questioned some of the people on the bus. No telling what kind of a story they got. Ken's friends would have of course claimed he didn't do anything, but we might have got lucky if they didn't get a chance to get their story straight first. As for the other people on the bus, I wasn't holding out much hope. People in high school didn't really want to risk getting in the middle of anything so their most likely answer to what they saw would be 'nothing'. It's amazing how little some people can see when they are in a situation like that. The school should really call in the CDC for all the sudden outbreak of near total blindness.

I was fidgeting in my seat, worried about what was going to happen to Brook. If they wanted to, they could claim she was using a weapon and call in the cops for assault charges. Yeah, zero tolerance policies were great weren't they? My fidgeting started my eye hurting again so I held the ice pack back up to it where it was starting to swell shut. I was going to look great for the rest of the day. Not.

The office door opened and Brook came out. She looked pretty glum but not pissed off. If she was going to be booked on assault charges she would have been pissed and letting everyone know about it. I shot her an inquiring look and got a dejected half smile back and a mouthed 'detention' as answer. Well that was a relief, detention wasn't that bad all things considered, I would have thought suspension at the least.

"Mr. Oakson, it is your turn now, please come in." said the AP, Mr. Hernandez.

I stood up, the motion making my eye throb again and headed to his office. Brook gave me an encouraging little wave as I closed the door behind me.

Mr. Hernandez was a tall man with graying streaks in his black swept back hair and thin-framed glasses perched on his nose. He sat back in his desk and gave me an appraising look.

"Well, Mr. Oakson, this is a fine start to our morning. Please take a seat so we can get this started."

I sat down in one of the two chairs that were facing his desk and waited for how this was going to be handled.

"I would like you to tell me what happened on the bus this morning." He said leaning back in his chair.

"Don't you already know? Brook must have told you everything I would."

"Yes, but I would like to hear your account of this incident."

Ah, it looked like the AP was going to check our stories out and see if they matched up. Well, I didn't have anything to hide. My parents had always taught me to own up to whatever I did.

"Me and Brook were in our seat talking about our physics class," I started, "when Ken leaned over the seat and started butting into the conversation. He said something about how Brook should be partners with him and then he grabbed her. So I..."

"Where did he grab her Adam?" Mr. Hernandez interrupted.

"Uh, you know, her breast." I said blushing.

"Okay continue." He said, writing something down on a piece of paper.

"Well, I hit him then."

"You were the one to strike first?" he asked.

"Yes, I wasn't going to sit there and let that happen." I said, getting a little angry again just thinking about it.

Mr. Hernandez waved for me to continue.

"After that, I'm not really sure what happened. I think there might have been a few more punches thrown by both of us, then Ken got me in a head lock and started hitting me in the face. That's about the whole of it."

"All right Adam, this is how things are going to happen. You are going to get four days of after school detention for your part in the fight. I am going to call your parents and tell them about this. I am supposed to call your father I believe. He should be at work, yes?"

I nodded.

"Do you have any questions?"

"What about Brook, how many days did she get?" I asked.

"Miss Aldridge is also receiving four days of detention; she will be taking them with you." He said.

"But that's not right! Ken sexually assaulted her; she shouldn't be getting in trouble at all!"

"Brook also hit Mr. Lancaster with her book, we can't let that go. And I am sorry to say we only have your and Brook's word that the sexual assault took place. No other witness would come forward to attest to what you say happened." He said sounding a little disappointed.

"With both of you being party to this incident it's only a matter of he said she said. Mr. Lancaster's friends claim that nothing like that happened."

"Don't you have cameras on those buses? There is a big black box up front that has 'Camera' written on it, in big white letters." I tried.

"Unfortunately there was no camera on the bus at that time. Some of the school district administrators decided last year that it would be cheaper to just have boxes that said camera rather than actually having them." he said

I had figured as much. My mother was a teacher and I had heard enough about the jackassery of the administration to see them using that kind of logic.

"Will Ken be in detention with me and Brook?" I asked, I really didn't want to have to sit through an hour of work packets with him glaring at me.

"No, since this is Mr. Lancaster's third fight, he was suspended for three days. Is that all your questions Mr. Oakson?"

"I guess so" I said.

"Then you are free to go back to class. My secretary will give you a pass." He said standing up and shaking my hand. "And Mr. Oakson, don't let this happen again."

The secretary was nice, recommending that I keep the ice on it as long as I could to keep the swelling down as she wrote out the pass. It was 8:25 when I got back to my first period class, which was athletics. I was on the school track team as a long distance runner.

When I got there the locker room was empty and none of the coaches were in their office, all of them being out on the track with the rest of the team. It was kind of eerie being in the building by myself, mostly I think it was because I knew I was late and was going to be in for it. I quickly changed into my running clothes and made my way onto the track.

Our track was 400 meters and wrapped around the football field. I was hoping to just jog out there without anyone noticing me, but that wasn't happening. I swear, Mr. Burnson, the coach in charge of track and field, had eyes like an eagle. He always sees when anyone is slacking off, and as for being late, well, let's just say he noticed me and let it go at that.

"Adam, glad you could join us today, felt like sleeping in did you?" He said in a friendly enough tone. You couldn't help but like him; he treated everyone like he was their favorite uncle. The one that always remembered your birthday and said you could talk to them about anything and actually meant it. His round face was open and honest. And his shortness made him less intimidating. His body was compact and well-honed from all the running he did. He was a long distance runner like I was. He was currently training up for a 20k marathon in a couple of weeks.

I gulped, it looked like he hadn't heard yet about what happened on the bus yet, he was probably already on the field warming up for this practice. I handed him the note, hoping that he would just let it go. No such luck.

He took the note from my hand and read it over quickly. The ends of his mouth turned down in a frown. "Adam what were you doing in the AP's office and please don't tell me it has something to do with the state of your face?"

Great, no way around this one, best to get it over with fast, like pulling off a band-aid. "I got in a fight this morning on the bus, that's where the eye came from, sir." I added a "Sir" just for good measure, it couldn't hurt anyway.

"Adam" he said with a sad shake of his head. "What were you doing son? You know fighting is not the way to handle things."

I had to get it all out before his disappointment in me turned into a boulder in my mind and crushed my ego. "Ken grabbed Brook and I wasn't going to let him get away with that, so I punched him in the nose, then things got out of hand."

"When you say grabbed her you mean...?"

"If you want to know more about that I think you should ask Brook or Mr. Hernandez, I don't think it's my place to talk about it." I said blushing.

"I see," he said an angry gleam in his eye. Damn, he must have guessed something from my stupid face turning red. "This Ken that would be Ken Lancaster who is on the football team?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"I will just have a word with the head coach on this matter. As for you, well you know my feelings about fighting..."

I did, Coach was a die in the bone pacifist, he wouldn't hurt a fly. I have even seen him carrying a spider he found in the men's bathroom in a cup to let it go outside.

"...But under these circumstances I'll let it go."

Win one for the well-deserved smack side against pacifism! Next thing you know Coach Burnson would be dressing in spandex and fighting crime!

"Thank you sir." I said, then ummed for a moment. "There is one other thing."

"Yes?"

"I sort of have detention after school for four days, so I won't be about to be at practice." I said.

He gave me a resigned look. "Of course you do. Our star runner out of practice for a week right before our big meet, how did I not see that coming?"

"I'll run after detention, I promise. I won't get out of shape, you'll see." I promised.

He gave me a smile. "I'm sure you will, you're always good about putting in your own work above and beyond what we do in practice." He sighed. "We will just have to hope that is enough. I really want to beat Tensville High; they have been whipping our hindquarters for the last few years." He shook his head. "Enough about that, you need to get going, do your stretches and warm up laps, then I want to see some running!"

I gave a good natured groan and made my way over to the field to do my warm-ups. After that, I spent the rest of the class period doing laps to build up my endurance. The class wasn't long enough to really stretch out my muscles and make me train like I did in the afternoon practice, but it was still a good toner for the beginning of the day.

When we hit the locker room to shower and change, I told the rest of the team about what had happened. I wanted to get my story out there before rumors got hold of it and made it worse than it already was. There was a lot of good natured ribbing when I told them about me getting saved by Brook and a physics book, but they mostly agreed that I did alright by bloodying Ken's nose considering he was a junior and huge compared to me. I didn't tell them what had sparked the fight. It was Brook's business if she wanted anyone to know about him grabbing her like that. So I just told everyone I had had enough of Ken's big mouth.

The next class went by at its normal snail's crawl; it was math and while I generally got everything that was being taught, it came in fits and starts. Some things I would get right away, others I would have to have explained to me half a dozen times before it started making sense.

I got several curious glances for my black eye, and I heard muffled comments exchanged by people telling each other what they knew. I could tell the rumor mills were already working overtime. I was sure the whole school would know by the end of lunch.

Third period was English, and I had Brook in that class with me. I had gotten to it early, hoping to get a chance to talk to Brook before class and see she how she was doing. She had obviously had the same idea because she was already there when I showed up.

"Wow, that is one nice eye!" she said, smiling at me.

I smiled and grimaced at the same time, probably making me look constipated. I had already seen that the eye had gotten worse in the time since I had last seen Brook. It had turned a deep purple with green around the edges.

"Actually, the eye is fine, I was just playing with your eye shadow when you weren't looking, didn't I do a great job?" I joked.

"Ha! I knew someone had been in my make-up case. Unlucky for you that I had switched my regular stuff out with permanent stuff. You are going to have to go around looking like that for the rest of the day, no washing it off for you!"

"Oh dear, looks like I am stuck this way I better come up with a good story for it." I said.

"I guess we will just have to tell everyone you got hurt defending my honor." Brook said, smiling at me.

That got me a little embarrassed, so I changed the subject. "What do you think your parents are going to say? You know, about detention and all that?"

She grimaced some at the question. "You know what my mom will be like; she hates it when I do anything 'unladylike', and I have gotten into too many fights over the years. She will be certain I did this just to show her how much of a tomboy I could be."

"Your dad should be okay though shouldn't he? I mean when you beat up Ray last year, he just laughed about it." I tried.

"I still got grounded for two weeks. Once mom gets upset about something, he generally lets her have her way. So I am bound to get in trouble for this time too." She said dejectedly.

"I don't expect my parents will be much better. They might understand, but they will still say I should have told a teacher or something instead of fighting. And even if I can convince them there was no teacher to have handled it and my actions were the best choice, they will still punish me somehow. You know what they say."

"There are always consequences for your actions even when your actions are right," we both said together. We smiled remembering how many times we had both been told that by my parents growing up.

The bell rang, and we hurried to our desks as Ms. Jordan started to call out roll. She paused as she got to my name giving me an inquiring look.

"What happened to you Adam? Your face looks a mess." She asked.

I sighed to myself, wondering how many times I was going to have to answer this question. "It's a birth mark, haven't you ever noticed it?" I tried.

Ms. Jordan just rolled her eyes. "My heavens, I must never have. You're just so quiet in this class I never noticed you."

She let it drop after that and went back to her attendance. Ms. Jordan and I got along great; it was my favorite class. She really brought English alive for me and had a great sense of humor. I was far from being so quiet I was unnoticeable in her class; I was actually a bit of a wiseass and talked too much, which was the meaning behind her sarcasm.

We were going over Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, and I was asked to read part of it. The girl she had reading Juliet was good at it so, I really got into it.

Juliet:

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo:

[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet:

Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

Romeo:

I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

"Thank you Adam. Now class, what do you think about what was read? This has one of the most famous lines in the play in it, 'a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' What do you think that means?"

There was some discussion that it meant that names weren't important, it was what something really was that mattered. For some reason, I didn't like this idea, Names should be important. They shouldn't just be changed to suit a whim. Without knowing something's name, could you really know what it was?

Before I got a chance to put my two cents worth in to the discussion, Ms. Jordan had already assigned someone else to read the next part, and I got back into the reading of the play. We kept on reading it and talking about it right up till the end of class, so Brook and I didn't have much of a chance to talk anymore. But that was okay, because after English was fourth period and that meant lunch.

The cafeteria was crowded with people and noisy with the sound of competing conversations. Brook and I made our way to the table we normally sat at and were greeted by Nick and Amy when we got there.

Nick and Amy were friends of ours. I hadn't known them as long as I had known Brook, what with me and Brook having been in the same classes since second grade. I had first meet them in Junior High, and at the time the two of them had not gotten along at all. Their yelling matches had become legendary by the time we were in eighth grade. Now though...

"Alright you two that's enough, stop sucking face unless you want to get written up for PDA...again." Said Brook sitting down across from them.

They broke it up but only after I had thrown a wadded up piece of paper at where their faces had become conjoined. They didn't even look embarrassed as they reluctantly loosened the grip they had on each other.

"One of these days we are going to find you two dead from lack of oxygen thanks to one of your make out sessions." I quipped sitting down next to Brook.

"And that is the way I want to go!" said Nick.

"Ah, doesn't he say the sweetest things?" cooed Amy, taking his hand in hers.

"Yes nauseatingly sweet," agreed Brook.

"I see the rumors going around are true; you did get the crap beat out of you by Ken this morning. Either that or you put on too much eye shadow," said Nick.
"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad, I got in a few good hits as well, well, one at least." I tried.

"It gets worse. Rumor also says Brook saved you and beat the crap out of Ken; they had to take him to the hospital with two broken arms," added Amy.

I groaned and hid my face. Great, not only did everyone know I got beat up, they also think I got saved by a girl. I didn't know about that hospital bit. I looked over at Brook, the question in my eyes.

"He seemed fine when I last saw him! He was in the nurse's office getting his bloody nose checked out and cussing. And I know I didn't break his arms. I only hit him in the head, and that's too hard to do any real damage," said Brook.

"Well, we did hear about the hospital part from Steven Boxer, and you know how much he likes to make up stories, so that might not be true," put in Amy.

"It probably isn't," I said. "I know he got suspended for three days since this was his third fight."

"I would hate to see what the coaches are going to do to Ken for getting into this kind of trouble. He can't play in the next game since he was suspended," said Nick.

"I would love to see it," said Brook vindictively. "I hope they make him run his guts out."

"I wouldn't mind seeing that either." I said reaching down to my backpack, where I had the lunch I had made last night.

Brook also rummaged in her bag and brought out her lunch. As was usual, we proceeded to spread out our meal and start to swap items. This might seem a little silly to be swapping pieces of lunch when you yourself made your own lunch, but it was half game and half habit for me and Brook to do this. We had been doing this since second grade, and it had gotten to the point where we would buy items that we know the other person would like for our lunches.

Brook pulled out an orange, and I immediately offered her an apple in exchange. She knew how much I liked oranges. We swapped a few more things before we were satisfied with what our meal would be, then dug in.

Nick and Amy had not been idle while this was going on. They had left the table to pick up the cafeteria food. It turned out that today's mystery meat had been used to make something resembling a hamburger patty. Only they had gotten the flat part wrong, so the so called meat was spherical. Don't get me started on what the 'Jello' looked like. And people wonder why I bring my own lunch?

We spent a couple minutes stuffing our faces before Rick brought out the cards. It was a tradition we had started near the beginning of the school year. We would play poker or some other card game while we ate our lunches and generally bullshited around.

Rick started us off with an easy game of Texas hold-em (we were in Texas after all so I guess it's only logical). We had to be careful, since the school had a no gambling policy, that we never showed any money being exchanged. We instead kept track of who owed who by writing it down on a piece of paper. Four pieces of paper actually, we each had to keep track of it and at the end of lunch we would compare and see if they agreed, and if they didn't, what were the consciences of the other three. We decided on this rather elaborate scoring system after we forgot who owed who in one of the early games and a bit of bad feeling was brought up. There was a twenty riding on the outcome between Brook and Amy and only some quick talking from Nick and me had got them to agree to just call off the whole day's bets.

This occupied us for the rest of lunch, and I left with the happy knowledge that Rick owed me ten, Brook owed me four and I only owed Amy five. Amy was a card shark; don't let her sunny smile and dimpled cheeks fool you. After the bell signaling the end of lunch had rung and I tossed the trash from my lunch, I headed with Rick to our next class, History. And this was the class I had been, well not dreading exactly, just kind of nervous I guess. This was the class I was getting back the big test my mother had been nagging me about that morning.

Me and Rick moved to our customary desks in the front of the classroom. It wasn't that we were really all that keen on learning early American History, but that we had gotten in trouble for talking too many times, and Mr. Glen wanted to keep an eye on us. I think it was us doing Mystery Science Theater on one of the colonial era history videos he was showing us that did it. Uh, I mean the video was over the colonial era, not from it; well it was a VHS so maybe it was after all.

He took roll like always and completely failed to comment on my black eye. I was hoping that this meant that everyone had already heard about my run in with old Kenny boy and I wouldn't have to answer any more questions, but it was probably just as likely that Mr. Glen didn't give a damn what I looked like. Okay, so I was the one who answered the question 'and who do you think it was they met first when they landed at Jamestown?' from the video with 'Mr. Glen,' but come on! The guy needs to lighten up.

He quickly got done and started handing out the tests. Rick got his and showed off a solid B+ too, for which I gave him a thumbs up. I was hoping I had done better than that, but I wouldn't have been too upset with a B+. Mr. Glen got all the way through handing out the papers, and I still hadn't gotten mine. Rick gave me a worried glance as we both noted my lack of paper. When Mr. Glen started reading off the first question from the test and explaining what the answer was, I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I raised my hand tentatively and when Mr. Glen asked with a nasty little smile what my question was, I informed him that I had not gotten my test back yet.

"I am well aware of that, Adam. We will talk about it after class. I will not waste time I could be teaching with your problem." Mr. Glen said.

Oh great, this must mean something really bad had happened with my test. Did I fail so badly he wanted to rub it in in private? I didn't think I had done that bad on it. I had actually felt like I was really in the zone when I was working on it last week. My parents were going to kill me if I had failed that test on top of getting in a fight! I slumped back in my chair hoping beyond hope that it was something simple like I had forgotten to put my name on it.

The rest of the class was spent going over the test, and each minute of this made me worry even more. They finally finished up just a couple minutes before the bell rang for the next class. I stood up and walked over to Mr. Glen's desk, where he ignored me for a few minutes typing something into his computer. Bastard. He finally turned to me and gave me a bland smile that hid the glee he was feeling behind his eyes.

"Adam, in the future when you are taking a test I advise you to at least try to answer some of the questions. You would have at least had a chance of getting the multiple choice question right if you just guessed. Just drawing meaningless patterns on the test will of course get you no credit." He said handing me back my test.

I glanced down at my test not expecting what I saw there. In the place of all my answers were some kinds of abstract drawings or patterns. What the hell?

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 2
 

“Mr. Glen, this can’t be my test; I answered the questions,” I said, sure there was some kind of mistake.

“Is this not your name on the paper? It sure looks like your signature,” Mr. Glen said, smiling lazily.

It was my signature. It was unmistakable. The ‘M’ was just the way I always made it, with a big loop cutting back across the body of the name. I stared blankly at it for a moment, then it occurred to me. Someone must have altered my paper as some kind of sick prank, and I said as much to Mr. Glen.

“I can assure you that the paper was in my custody from the moment you turned it in on Friday till now, so there is no way anyone could have altered it. Why don’t we drop your feeble excuses? It is clear to me that you decided to make a joke out of my test. It is just the kind of thing you would do. Well, I am not amused. This class is a serious matter and you will find, young man, that your goofing off will have serious repercussions. That is all I have to say to you. Hurry, before you are late to your next class.”

I knew there was no point in arguing with him. So I stuffed the test in my back pack and dazedly tried to get to my next class in time. Of course, the tardy bell rang before I was even half way there, but I was too stunned to really care all that much. We had four major exams in the history class over the course of the semester. I had already finished one with a ninety but averaging in a zero was going to blow my final grade all to hell. I ran some rough calculations and found I would need to get 100’s on both the final tests if I wanted to squeak by with a C-. Holy Plastic Pants Batman, I was up shit creek and the paddle was definitely gone, AND there was a hole in the bottom of the boat!

I got into next class and must have made some kind of excuse that the teacher bought, but I don’t remember what it was. I slumped into my desk and just stared at the wall for a minute before pulling myself back together. Right, I had a problem; that meant I had to find a solution. Can’t find one of those by sitting around moping. I pulled out my test from my backpack and gave it a good hard look. The first thing I checked for was any lines where my answers might have been erased or whited out. Mr. Glen made us use a pen when taking the tests, so anything that was used to get rid of that would probably show.

I couldn’t find anything. As far as I could tell, the little picture patterns were the only thing that was ever written on the paper. This just didn’t make sense. I tried to remember taking the test and what I had written down. I remembered reading the questions and then the multiple choice answers, and I must have written A or B or whatever in the right place right? I strained to remember, I had been so in the zone when I was taking the test that it was hard to remember actually writing the answer down. I had been flying through the test. It had all started to come to me easily when I was doing it.

What about the essay question? Surely I should remember writing that down. I flipped to the essay questions on the third page and just stared again. The same damn little pictures! Little squiggles and shapes all lined up where my essay should have been. What the hell was going on?! Then a sick feeling hit me. What if I had some kind of mental illness that made me write whatever those things were instead of letters? There were things like there weren’t there? Illnesses that messed with your brain, synapses crossing, and wires misfiring. What if I had some kind of tumor? I felt the top if my head, half expecting to feel some kind of bulge where my brain was about to burst my head open.

Okay, calm down. There is an easy way to test this; get a piece of paper out, and write something down. If it’s a bunch of weird junk, then your head is going to explode. Wait, don’t think that, just calm down. Paper, pencil, now write. What do I write?! Stupid brain not knowing what to write when it’s needed.

I wrote down “My brain is going to explode out my ears.” That will teach you, brain, for not knowing what to write. It was completely legible. I have always had a pretty nice hand, and the cursive words seemed to be formed perfectly. I tried writing again, this time printing it. “Brook is really hot.” Well, you try figuring out what to write when you are in state like I was; it’s a lot harder than it sounds, and that was the first thing that popped into my head. Stupid hormones. It turned out that my printed sentence was just as readable as the cursive one had been.
So it looked like my head was normal, or at least as normal as it ever got. That was a relief. But it still didn’t explain what had happened to my test. It just didn’t make sense. The worst part was the dawning realization that when I got home, my parents were expecting to see the grade I got on this test. They would want an explanation for what happened, an explanation I just didn’t have. And that was on top of me getting in a fight.

I made it through the rest of the classes that day until physics with a feeling of dread heavy in my stomach. Time was doing that funny thing it does when you not looking forward to something where it seems to speed up and slow down at different rates so that I could be sitting in class and be sure that it’s been thirty minutes but when I looked up at the clock it would have only been five. Or I would be thinking about what I was going to tell my parents for a few minutes and it would suddenly be the end of class ten minutes before it should have been.

In physics class, the last class of the day, all three of my friends were in there with me, and Nick had already informed them that something was up before I got to class. So when I got there, I was met with the inquisitive looks of three people. Brook was the first to speak after looking at my face.

“Uh oh, something is wrong. He never has that kind of expression on his face unless he thinks the shit is about to meet the rotating blades. What happened?”

I would have scowled, but I was trying to control my expressions. I have no idea how Brook always seems to know what’s up with me just from looking.

“It’s my history test,” I muttered.

Nick winced. “You really do that bad on it? Old prune face did seem pretty happy with himself so I figured it had to be something bad.”

“Hush y’all, just let him tell us what happened,” said Amy.

I didn’t tell them, I just showed them by taking out my test and laying it down on the lab table in front of them, the big red zero showing them plainly what was wrong.

“What?”

“Oh no!”

“Oh shit!”

Their eloquence at my situation was really heartwarming. Sometimes when you’re that deep in the soft and brown, it’s rather gratifying to have people appreciate how bad it is.

“What happened?” asked Brook.

“Haven’t got a clue in the world,” I said.

“You weren’t trying to pull another prank on Mr. Glen were you? That last one where you put that live mouse in his desk really was going a bit far,” said Amy.

“How was he to know that old prune face was deathly afraid of rodents? Calling the ambulance was an overreaction to a bit of hysteria; he was fine!” said Nick backing me up.

I tried not to wince (I was still trying to control my expression). That prank had gotten way more of a reaction than I had expected. Who would think a man like Mr. Glen would be afraid of a little white mouse I found in the locker room? I mean, he just looked like he was the type of old crotchety bastard that would just yell at the mouse (or maybe bite its head off), not shriek like a little girl and try to hide in the cabinet. And I had managed to get the mouse without too much chasing it around the classroom. The principal's action of calling an ambulance for Mr. Glen was pure cover-your-ass overreaction. I was just lucky no one could trace the mouse back to me. Of course from the looks I had gotten from Mr. Glen he was certain I did it anyway.

“No, I wasn’t pulling some kind of prank; I don’t know what happened to my test!” I explained.

“Maybe old prune face is getting his own back at you?” suggested Nick.

“I don’t see that happening, he just isn’t the kind of person to falsify a student’s test. Grade as harshly as he could, yes, but not something like this,” said Brook.

“Hey I know! Adam has some kind of tumor or something in his brain making him write funny shit!” said Nick.

“Only an idiot like you would come up with an idea like that. Adam has been writing just fine since he took the test last Friday, and besides, I don’t see any kind of tumor resulting in these pictures he has in place of all his writing. They almost seem to be some other kind of alphabet,” said Amy

“Yeah, but I’m an idiot in love with you, so everything is all right isn’t it?” said Nick, giving Amy what I called the ‘let’s say gooey, romantic things’ expression.

“Of course it is!” said Amy leaning into him.

“Guys come on, focus!” said Brook.

“No time for that now; here comes Ms. Peck.” I said pointing out the mousy thirty-something physics teacher as she entered the class room. I put away my unexplainable test and took out my physics book.

“Uh, Adam can I share your book with you?” asked Brook.

“What happened to yours?” I said, as I slid the book over so we could both see the chapter under discussion.

“Got confiscated as a weapon,” she said rather embarrassedly. I had to suppress a snort of amusement that threatened to escape. Instead, I nodded solemnly.

“Yes they can be very dangerous in the hands of the unrighteous.”

“Hey, more wars have been started thanks to some book than because of any number of weapons,” Brook said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh planning to start a war are you?” I asked.

“Maybe not a war but…”

“Mr. Oakson, Miss Aldridge, do I need to separate you again? Or can we continue on with the lecture?” asked Ms. Peck.

“No Ms. Peck,” we both replied in unison, and were quiet for the rest of the lecture.

At the end of the class, Ms. Peck had us break into groups of two to three to get our assignments for our new project. The topic Brook and I ended up getting was friction. We had to write a paper and come up with a short lab that explained some principles of friction in physics.

“I want to know why we can’t have cool topics, like the physics of magic, or how some of those martial arts masters do all that running on walls and stuff,” I said to Brook as we put up our things and prepared for the end of the school day.

“Really, you think they would let us do cool stuff like that? This is high school after all. If they let us do stuff like that, Walker High School would get a reputation for being interesting, and then all the other high school would make fun of it,” said Brook.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Brook seemed to become hesitant about something as she looked at me nervously. “Adam, we need to talk about something I…” Just then, the bell rang interrupting her.

“What were you saying?” I asked.

“It’s just…can I come over tomorrow so we can talk about something?”

“Can’t we just talk about it on the bus? Not that I have a problem with you coming over or anything,” I added.

“No, my parents said they would pick me up today so I could start detention,” she said with a grimace.

“Alright then, I’ll ask my parents if you can come over tomorrow. I’ll say we are working on our project. Even with all the trouble I’m in, that should make it okay,” I said.

“See you tomorrow,” said Brook, as she waved bye and went off to her detention.

I headed in the other direction, towards where the school bus was waiting to take students home. Since my parents couldn’t arrange to pick me up after detention, they were letting me go home on the bus today. My detention would start tomorrow. And due to the rules I wasn’t allowed to participate in extracurricular activities, so that meant no practice today either. Tell the truth, I kind of wish I could have had it today, at least then I could hold off the reckoning with my parents a little while longer.

I had to hurry to the side of the school where the buses picked up people. You never knew what order the buses would show up in, so your bus could end up being the first one there and by extension, the first one to leave. If you didn’t haul ass, you could end up being left behind.

I got to the bus in time, though barely. The bus was actually pulling away from the curb when I got there, and I had to chase it and bang on the door to get the bus driver to stop for me. This, of course, was doing nothing for my reputation around the school, as all the other students laughed at me. As if parading around all day with a black eye wasn’t bad enough.

My sister studiously avoided looking at me as I got on. The bus normally picked up the junior high kids before pulling into our school, so she was always on it before I got on. The bus driver glared at me that she didn’t want to see any more trouble out of me, or I could walk home for the rest of the year. I nodded my head and settled in to my seat, the absence of my usual seatmate conspicuous in my mind, and the bus gave a lurch as it jolted back into motion.

I had just leaned back into my seat and was looking out the window, when there was a pounding on the back of my seat. Oh great, it looked like there was going to be a repeat performance from this morning. Hopefully I can avoid getting my other eye blackened.

“Hey, faggot, Ken said to tell you that he is going to kick your ass for getting him in trouble. He is going to pound the shit out of your ass till you cry! You better watch your back, faggot; he knows where you live!”

“Thanks for the warning; I’m sure the homoerotic vision it conjures in your mind will give you and your sock something to do tonight,” was my tired reply, which earned me a particularly hard hit to the back of my seat.

I leaned forward, resting my head on the seat in front of me for the rest of the ride home, thus robbing whichever of Ken’s friends it was behind me of the joy of rhythmically pounding on something. Finally, the bus pulled up in front of our home, and Kelly and I got off the bus.

I heard a steady thumping as I unlocked the side door and was almost bowled over when I opened it by a brown streak of lighting. I smiled and bent down to ruffle his ears.

“How was your day, buddy?” I asked my energetic dog.

He barked and generally indicated that his day had been fine, but that he really needed to use the grass. I let him go with a thump to his side, and he trotted out to do his business. I went in, leaving the door open behind me. My sister was already in the kitchen making herself a snack of some cold baby carrots, health freak that she was. She got her head out of the fridge and gave me an interested look.

“Is it true you got in a fight with Ken after I got off the bus this morning?” she asked.

I groaned, how had she heard about that? As if reading my mind, she said, “Marry Tulaney, who sits on the bus a couple of rows behind me told me that you did.”

Urgh, the power of gossip.

“Well, did you?” Kelly asked impatiently.

“Yes, I did, alright!” I said throwing up my hands. “I got my ass whooped by Ken, there are you happy?”

“Oh my god, you are going to be in so much trouble! Mom and Dad are going to ground you for like a year! What happened in the fight; I only heard that it happened, not all the details.”

So I told her what little there was to tell. She winced at hearing how I got the black eye and immediately went and got me a bag of frozen peas to put on my face. Of course the swelling had already gone down a lot during the day, so I didn’t really need the peas, but she was being nice so I put them on anyway. She really liked how Brook had started clobbering Ken with her physics book and pronounced it ‘Cool’. She groaned at hearing about my four days of detention and all in all was a very sympathetic listener. I could only wish that my parents would be as good.

“What I still don’t get is why you punched him? You kind of glossed over that point,” she said.

I thought about it for a minute. She would probably hear the reason when I told my parents, even if she wasn’t supposed to be listening in. So. I decided to tell her, but only after I extracted a promise not to spread it around her school.

“So you hit him for messing with your friend?” she asked.

“Well yeah, but I guess I would have hit him even if she wasn’t my friend. You just don’t go around grabbing people like that.”

Kelly gave me a long look then said. “You’re a good man, Charley Brown.”

The reference was way before her time, or my time for that matter. It was something our mother would say to our father whenever he did something really decent and upstanding, which, since we were talking about my father, happened quite a bit. He was just one of those people that always ‘did right,’ as he put it.

I got a little embarrassed. Come on, little sisters aren’t supposed to say anything nice about you. They are supposed to be there for tormenting till they cry and you get in trouble.

I heard the padding of claw tipped feet coming from the direction of the side door and called out, “Don’t forget to close the door!”

The padding stopped, and then there was the thump of the side door being shut. Moments later, my big brown dog stuck his head around the corner and doggie grinned at me.

“Oh, shut up you.”

My sister just shook her head. “That dog of yours is so weird. It’s even weirder how you always seem to know what he is saying.”

“I just watched too much Lassie growing up.” I turned to my dog. “What is it boy? Is Timmy stuck down the well again?”

He gave me a look that said as plain as day, ‘don’t be a smart ass’ before he came over to lean against me.

“You need to tell Mom and Dad right away why you punched him; that should help a lot.” Kelly said.

“I know how to handle Mom and Dad better than you do, don’t worry,” I lied. Kelly always seemed to get her way in things. I blamed that on the fact that she was the baby of the family, but it probably had to do with the fact that she was just so damn cute, it was hard to be mad at her.

“To bad you’re a guy and can’t do the big eyed innocent girl thing. That always gets me out of trouble.”

I grumbled a bit before moving off to sit at the kitchen table and dumping my backpack on it. I always did my homework there, since there were too many distractions in my room. I would be too tempted to do my homework while at the same time messing around on the internet or playing a game.

That kept me busy for an hour or two, and right around then, the thing I had been dreading happened, one of my parents got home.

It turned out to be my Dad, which was a small reprieve ,since he would want to wait till my Mom got home to ‘discuss,’ i.e. yell, about what happened. I heard his car pull into the garage and the engine cut off. It took a couple of minutes before he came into the house; I wondered if he was calming himself down before he came in. My Dad had a real even temper, but when it blew, boy did it blow!

I risked looking him in the face, hopefully without drawing down doom with the glance. He looked calm enough, but that could always be deceptive. I quickly looked back down at my completed homework and mumbled a “Hi Dad,” as greeting.

“We are going to wait for your mother to come home before we talk about the call I got this morning. But you should know I am not very pleased,” he said, dumping his keys and wallet on the counter and heading into his room to change out of his work clothes.

I didn’t have long to wait, since my mother came home just a few minutes after that. She was deceptively calm as well, just giving me a long look and telling me to go wait in the living room while she and Dad talked.

They had me wait for a good five minutes; probably, they had already done all the talking to each other they needed to, but they wanted to make me sweat it out for a bit. It was working! Finally, they both marched into the living room and sat down, one on the other end of the sofa from me and one in the overstuffed lazy boy, so that I wasn’t able to see them both at the same time, leaving one of them able to watch me, while the other had my full attention.

Oh great, it was the dreaded whip lash routine, where I had to whip my head back and forth as I talked to each of them. They were going to tag team me!

“Start talking; we want to know what happened this morning on the bus,” said my Dad, his tone even.

I quickly sketched out the events of that morning, going over the confrontation between me and Ken and the fight that escalated from it. I took my sisters advice and told them right away what had made me go for him. It really did seem to help. It went from an interrogation to something more like a discussion of what happened.

They asked some questions like, knowing how the fight ended up, would I do it over again, to which I answered with a definite 'hell yes.' Okay, I didn’t actually answer with 'hell yes' except in my head. My parents don’t like me cursing. They also asked me what I intended to do the next time I saw Ken; what if he was holding a grudge and wanted to fight again?

Ha, I think we can put the possibility of Ken holding a grudge in the certainly column after his friend's little homoerotic warning.

I could have answered how I thought they would want me to, that I would try not to fight him and go tell a teacher or something. But I decided I was going to be honest and see were that got me. I must have been channeling Abraham Lincoln. Come to think of it, I don’t remember if he got off the hook for cutting down those cherry trees or not. So I told them that if Ken started to harass me or give me trouble, I would risk getting a stomping again. And I would do the same thing if I saw him messing with Brook, or anyone else for that matter. People like Ken need to be stood up to; at least that’s how I felt.

My parents actually almost seemed pleased with that answer. My Dad asked me about getting in trouble with the school again, and I just shrugged and told him what happened happened, and I would deal with the consequences as they came.

My Mom sighed. “Well, Adam, it seemed you have come to some convictions about this, and I can’t say that I am all that unhappy about them. Sticking up for what you know to be right and learning to take the consequences for your actions is something valuable to learn. I think I can speak for both of us when we say we are proud of how you handled the situation.”

“You mean I’m not going to get in trouble?” I asked hopefully.

“Oh no, you are still in trouble, consequences remember?” She gave me an evil smile that spoke of unending tortures that were going to be heaped on me.

“To start with,” said my Dad. “I want the front and back yard mowed. You should just have enough time before it gets dark.”

I groaned, we had a fairly good sized yard and it would probably take an hour and a half to get that done with the old push lawn mower we had in the shed out back.

“When you get done with that, we will see what else we have for you to do,” said my Mother.

I got up from the couch and was making my way out the back door to get on with the mowing, when my mom asked me a question I had been hoping she wouldn’t.

“Before you start, what did you get on your history test?”

Gulp! This was something I did not want to think about right now. I knew I should tell them about the test and the strange things I or someone else had written on it, but somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything. They seemed to be taking the fight and detention well enough, but I didn’t know how they would react to the test. I wasn’t sure how I should react to the test! So I did a stupid thing. I told them a little fib.

“Didn’t get the test back today, Mr. Glen didn’t get a chance to grade them over the weekend. He said he might have them ready by tomorrow.”

Okay, it was a big fat lie, but I just didn’t know what to do. I was afraid of being in serious trouble for getting a zero. And I was scared about what the little symbols could mean. Had I done them myself? Had someone else made my test that way? I just didn’t know, and I didn’t want to think about it, so I stopped channeling honest Abe and started channeling Sinon and his Trojan horse.

Luckily for me, my Mom let it go at that, and I went out on to the 5th circle of hell otherwise known as the Oakson's yard.

The door hadn’t even shut behind me when there was a ‘Wham!’ and the door flew back open with my dog bounding through it. He took off running in the yard, making a big loop and ending up next to the shed with a stick in his mouth. His tail waved in the air like a propeller. I was surprised he didn’t take off into the sky it was wagging so hard.

I walked over to the shed, which was older than I was, its beige paint job starting to flake off from when it was last repainted. Before I opened the plywood door and manhandled the push lawnmower out, I took the stick out of Harvard's mouth and threw it as hard as I could. He ran after it almost in the spot it landed before it got there. By the time he trotted back to me, stick held proudly between his teeth, I had gotten the lawnmower out of the mildew-smelling shed and had the engine started. I threw the stick again and started making the circuit around the yard. I kept up this routine of mowing and throwing for the next rather miserable hour and a half.

Let me just tell you that mowing the lawn is not fun, especially with the cranky old mower we have. My dad usually paid a yard work company to take care of the basics in our yard, but I had the feeling they were going to be less busy around here in the near future.

I was tired and dirty by the time I was done, and my dog was nicely worn out, or at least as worn out as he ever got, which just meant he was running about as fast as a locomotive rather than the space shuttle. I staggered indoors and flopped onto the floor in the living room. My dog flopped on top of me and gave me a doggie kiss.

Eww, dog slobber. I pushed his head away and rolled out from under him. Then just lay there letting my sore arm and leg muscles relax.

“Looks like you had fun out there,” said my grinning sister from the couch, where she had been watching a show on the biography channel.

I gave her my best big brother stare of disapproval for sassing me, but she seemed impervious to it. I really was going to have to work on that.

“Are you going to lie there all day? Dinner is going to be ready in a little while, and you smell.”

I got up and with exaggerated motions said, “Thank you so much for reminding me, Sis! Let me give you a big hug as thanks!”

I let her dodge me as I made my way past her and towards our shared bathroom. Eight and a half minutes and some scrubbing later I was dressed in my sleeping shorts and an old shirt that was too ratty for anything except home wear. Dinner still had a ways to go before it was ready, so I settled in next to my little Sis and watched the show with her.

The guy they were biographing (yes I made that word up, what are you going to do about it?) was a super villain from the 70’s and 80’s with the code name Deathknell and the real name of Herbert Quercus Kent. What made him noteworthy was the fact that he was also a wildly popular rock star in the band Lamppost, which was also made up of super villains. They didn’t seem to take the whole super villain thing too seriously. Mostly innumerable instances of public noisiness, drunk and disorderly conduct, and causing riots, but also some worse stuff like robbing banks and kidnapping. Though the kidnapping was kind of fuzzy, since some of the people they kidnapped said they had a great time. It was pretty much what you would expect if you gave a rock band mutant powers and no compunction about following the law.

I had heard about him before of course, who hadn’t? He and his band were as well-known as any of the top artists in the 80’s. But I didn’t really know that much about him. My mother didn’t really like music all that much, and my dad was into jazz, not rock and roll. Some of the things the show told that he did were just awesome! Like robbing a bank and dumping hundreds of thousands of dollars off the Empire State Building while rocking out to their soon to be hit song ‘Like a Leaf in the Wind’.

Or the time they gate crashed the Academy Awards, and he used his power to make all the golden statues of Oscar, of which there were many replicas all over the place, come to life and chase some of Hollywood’s finest up and down the red carpet. This had an unfortunate back lash. Before the fracas, there had been some rumblings in Hollywood about their stance on mutants. Hollywood people being notoriously liberal had been getting some flak from their friends about discrimination and had been slowly softening on the subject. But after being chased around on national television by giant gold men shouting ‘you like me, you really like me!’ they had become as hardened on the mutant issue as any religious fundamentalist. Hollywood can forgive people they think are the downtrodden almost anything, but the one thing they will never forgive is being made a laughing stock.

One of the coolest was the Chicago Music Riot, where he used the power of his voice, augmented by some devise of another band member, to influence close to seven hundred people to do a choreographed song and dance in the streets to the band’s music. The dancing wasn’t half bad either.

As we watched a clip of the Riot, I remarked to my sister, “That is way better than that stuff I hear from your room.” My sister always had her favorite band playing when she was in her room. Some little band she found on the internet that was out in L. A. called Brass Monkeys. If you haven’t had to listen to Brass Monkeys all night through the wall you don’t know what torture is.

My sister just gave me that ‘whatever, you just have no taste’ look that almost promised she would be pointing her speakers towards my walls tonight. I shut up before she snuck into my room and put the speakers right next to my ears…again.

The show was talking about one of his most famous songs, ‘Living Life Love Lost’, when the TV suddenly turned off. I looked up to see Mom holding the remote, an angry expression on her face.

“No TV, you’re still in trouble young man,” she said glaring at me. “And dinner is ready.”

“Sorry.” I said guiltily before hurrying to the table to eat. We had oven baked chicken with corn, green beans and rolls with fresh butter on the side. I dug in with gusto, the time working outside giving me an appetite. I even had seconds.

The talk at the table was normal enough. Kelly chattered away about her day at school and what her and her friends were up to. Mom put in a few comments about her students and Dad talked some about how his court case was going. He was a defense attorney.

I mostly kept quiet, since my day wasn’t really anything I want to talk about. I let the talk flow around me and concentrated on eating. A nudge on my left leg reminded me that a certain someone was waiting under the table for those bits I didn’t want to eat. I snuck a green bean to him, and he took it with an audible chomp. Everyone else at the table ignored it, long used to the ‘secret’ disposition of my vegetables and other food.

I was still pretty tired after dinner, so I said goodnight to everyone and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and all the other night time ablutions. I settled into my bed and pulled the comforter up under my chin. My half-open door was nudged open, and Harvard came in and jumped onto the foot of my bed, where he circled once before laying down over my feet. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It was the middle of the night the next time I opened my eyes. The room around me looked strange; there was a golden red tint to everything, like someone had put a small copper colored light somewhere just out of sight. The light was dim, but there was enough to discern the different objects in my room. I looked around, trying to find the source of the light but I couldn’t seem to find it. Eventually, I got out of bed and hunted around. The light seemed to be shining everywhere I looked.

I was getting annoyed until I figured it out; Kelly must have taped some kind of light to me somehow. It was just the kind of prank she would pull. I felt around on my head expecting to find a light strapped somewhere, but, as much as I searched, I could never find anything.

I gave up in disgust and went into the bathroom to find where whatever it was had been taped. I looked into the mirror, then raised my hands to feel at my eyes. I started to scream. Okay, I’ll admit that wasn’t the most macho of things to do, but sometimes it just kind of comes out of you.

I heard shouts and the sound of people tumbling out of bed as I finally got my scream, no wait yell, yell sounds much more manly than scream, my yell under control. Kelly was the first one to get to me, bursting through the door adjoining her room to the shared bathroom.

I turned to her. “What did you do to my eyes?! What kind of prank is this?!” My mind was still stuck on this being something she had done, but the stunned look she was giving me indicated that she was out of the loop on this.

I looked back into the mirror, staring at the two copper colored glowing eyes that stared back at me. I closed my eyes and was greeted with a field of copper colored nothingness as the light reflected off the back of my eyelids.

“What’s going on?” my Mom shouted, as she slid into the bathroom from my room, her foot tangled in a pair of my old jeans that she must have picked up on the way through. I opened my eyes and turned to her.

“Oh God,” she said.

My Dad was right behind her, and his eyes went wide when he saw me.

“What’s going on?!” I asked, echoing my mother as I looked to them for some kind of explanation.

My dad flicked on the lights and everyone stopped looking like someone had cast my family as bronze statues. My mother stepped to me and held me in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay Adam, nothing’s wrong, calm down.”

“What do you mean, nothing is wrong?!” I said, turning back to the mirror to see that my eyes still shone like polished copper coins even with the lights on, though at least they didn’t seem to be illuminating the place anymore.

“Come on, let’s go sit down and we can talk about this,” said my Mom in a calming voice.

I let myself be calmed, and we went into my room and sat on my bed. My dog seemed to wake up as the bed springs settled, and he moved over to put his head in my lap. To tell you the truth, that probably calmed me down as much as anything. My dog can take anything in stride, as long as he got petted and fed on a regular basis.

My Mom sat beside me, and my dad took up a position in the desk chair facing up. My sister leaned against the door jamb to the bathroom, watching with big eyes.

My Mom got my attention back by touching my arm. “Adam, do you feel any different? Do you hurt anywhere?”

“No,” I said after a moment of taking mental inventory. “It just seems that my eyes are lighting everything up like flashlights before you turned the lights on.

“You can see in the dark?” asked my sister.

“I wouldn’t call it dark with the way these things are shining. Couldn’t you see everything thanks to the glow?”

“We only saw your eyes glowing. The rest of the house was as pitch dark as you would expect at night. We all ran to your room pretty much blind when you started screaming. I didn’t take the time to think of turning on the lights until I got here.”

“Yelling.”

“What?” asked my Mom.

“I was yelling, I wasn’t screaming.” I explained.

My Mom gave me a strange look before continuing her questions. “Do you know of anything that happened today that might have affected your eyes?”

“No.”

“Alright,” said Dad. “Then this is what we are going to do. I’m going to call Doctor Evens and see if he can come out here and see you. He owes me a favor after defending his son. In the mean time, I want you to try to lie back down and get some sleep. I know you are probably worried, but staying up all night won’t help anything.”

“Shouldn’t we go to the hospital or something?” I asked.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” said my Mother, clearly discomforted by something. “Why don’t we just wait for Dr. Evens? He is as good as any hospital doctor and much less paper work.”

I didn’t really get it. I mean, if there is something wrong with you, you go to the hospital right? But I was going to trust my folks to know what they were doing.

“Kelly, go on back to bed, Adam is okay and you have to go to school tomorrow,” said my mother.

Kelly seemed putout with the idea, and I think she wanted to protest, but the look in my Moms eyes made it clear she didn’t want any arguments. My sister gave me a kind of wave and a smile before going back into her room, closing the door to the bathroom behind her. Of course, if I knew her, she was already crouched behind the door with her ear to it so she could hear anything else that was said.

My dad said he was going to go make the call and left as well, leaving me, my mother, and my dog as the only ones left in the room.

“I really don’t think I am going to be able to get back to sleep,” I told my mother as I got back under the covers.

“Just try,” was my Mom's reply.

I laid still in my bed, worrying about what was going on. It wasn’t every day that your eyes start glowing like some kind of bad special effect from a Hollywood movie, and you could say I was a little concerned. Mom and Dad seemed to be taking it pretty well though. I guess some people just take shocks better than others.

“Close your eyes Adam,” said my mother from where she was now sitting at my desk.

How did she know..? Oh right, the whole glowing eyes thing. I shut my eyes and, even though I had expected to stay up all night, I felt myself starting to drift off.

Out of the darkness, I heard my mother whisper, “I love you Adam. You’ll get through this.”

~o~O~o~

Veronica put her head in her hands after she watched Adam fall asleep. She had dreaded the day this would happen. She had hoped that it would never come. After all it wasn’t a certainty, it was just probable. But it was happening, and now the secret was going to have to come out.

She got up and headed for the door; she had a phone call to make. As she passed the bed, Harvard thumped his tail a couple times. She smiled and patted him absently. She and Carl had talked about this happening many times in the past, especially in the last few years, but even with all the talking, they had still come to same conclusion every time. They had to do what was best for Adam, and it wasn’t like they could keep the truth from him forever. He had the right to know.

Carl was just finishing up his call to Dr. Evens as she entered the living room.

“So I’ll see you at 9:00 am then? Right. Thanks again, Jeremy, I really appreciate you helping us out on such short notice, and sorry again about calling in the middle of the night. Yes. Goodnight.”

He hung up the phone and turned to his wife.

“He will be here at 9:00 am.”

“I heard,” she hesitated for a bit.

“You know I have to call him; he is the best one to help Adam out with this problem,” she continued.

“I know honey, and I understand,” he said and hugged his wife tight. “Nothing will change my love for Adam.”

“Yes, but will Adam still love us, after what we have kept from him?” she whispered into his shoulder.

“Adam is a smart, level-headed boy; he will understand. We just have to trust him.”

Veronica broke away with a sigh. “You’re right, we have to trust him.”

“Do you want me to stay or…”

“No I’ll do this alone why don’t you get to bed,” she said.

He gave her one last kiss and a tight hug before he left her alone with the phone. She picked it up and dialed a number. She knew the number by heart, even though she had never called it before. There were a couple of rings before it was answered by a sleepy masculine voice.

“Hello?”

“Kent? It’s Veronica.” She took a deep breath. “Your son needs your help.”

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 3
 

I woke up late the next morning, but when I did wake up, it was with none of the grogginess I normally had. I remembered everything that had happened last night. I rolled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to stare deep into my own eyes. They were bright; you could tell that they were glowing even in the glare from the harsh overhead lights above the sink. It wasn’t like they were flashlights or anything, but they definitely were illuminated from within.

I found that I wasn’t as stunned as I had been last night. I was able to actually think about what this meant. I didn’t know of that many things that could make your eyes glow. I had never heard of anything medically that could do that, so having some kind of disease didn’t seem very likely. And I know I didn’t put anything in my eyes like some kind of new high tech specialty contact. And I was pretty sure no one else had put anything in my eyes either. It might have been aliens that abducted me in the middle of the night and did something to my eyes, but I found that unlikely. Besides, my ass didn’t feel probed at all. That left one thing, mutation.

Everyone knew about mutants; hell, superheroes and supervillains were on the news all the time, and a lot of them where Mutants, or so the fan sites said. There were even a few local super heroes that worked out of the Houston area. Like The Cowboy, who played being a Texas cowboy to the hilt and really annoyed most people around here by making us look like hicks who rode horses to work and put on spurs every morning. I had even heard he wasn’t really from Texas, though that might just be a rumor started in order to save some of Texas’s dignity.

I had heard that about one sixth of the population had something called the meta-gene complex, but that didn’t mean you would be a mutant, despite all the rumors to the contrary. Something happened at some point that no one understood, and suddenly some of the people with the meta-gene complex manifested powers. You always heard that someone’s friend’s cousin’s nephew’s roommate had it happen to them, but I had never meet anyone that turned out to be a mutant.

So let’s say I am a mutant, shouldn’t that mean I have cool powers? I tried to lift Kelly’s toothbrush from its little holder with the power of my mind, nothing happened. Next, I tried to fly, but no matter how hard I strained nothing happened, except I felt rather silly with my arms up in the air in the accepted superman pose.

Well this sucked, I turn into a mutant and the only power I have is flashlight eyes? How was I supposed to fight crime with that? STOP, OR I’LL FLASH YOU! It just didn’t sound right; probably get a ticket for indecent exposure or something.

It was 8:12, I noticed on my way through my room. I guessed that the folks had decided to let me stay home from school. I could just hear my Mom’s call to the attendant’s office now. ‘Yes, I would like you to excuse my son from school today. Why? Well, because he looks like he grew up in Midwich.’ Hmm, I better be on the lookout for people thinking about brick walls.

Downstairs was quiet; I had to wonder if anyone besides myself was home. I padded on bare feet into the kitchen, the growling of my stomach choosing the direction. I opened the fridge and peered inside, trying to determine what I could make that wouldn’t take that long. I finally settled on making an omelet. I grabbed the eggs, some cheese, and some fresh bell peppers and got to work.

The smell was just starting to get heavenly when I heard the back door close and the sound of shoes on hardwood floor and the clicking of nailed paws.

“Hey Mom thanks for taking Harvard out for me, I got breakfast going. You want some?” I said. No, I wasn’t suddenly getting some new power that let me know it was my Mom. I knew it was her since the sound of her shoes was rather distinctive.

There was a flurry of paws on the floor, and Harvard ran into the kitchen to stand next to me, tail wagging.

I scowled at him. “The offer of food was to my mother, not to your overgrown self.” His tail just wagged all the harder.

My Mom entered the kitchen and said “No thank you Adam, I already ate this morning.”

My dog nudged me with his head as if to say “see she doesn’t want it; I’ll take her share.”

“Dr. Evens will be here at nine, so I want you to be dressed and ready by then. He is doing us a favor by coming over here instead of making us come to him, so I won’t have you keeping him waiting,” warned my Mom.

“Got ya,” I replied and slid the omelet out of the pan and onto a plate. It smelled delicious.

It didn’t take me long to finish the omelet, and I put the plate on the floor for Harvard to clean up the scraps I had left him. After that, I went ahead and got dressed. It took me all of about ten minutes to get ready, so I had time to burn before the doc showed up.

I spent that time channel surfing; I really couldn’t find anything that interested me, so I ended up on a cartoon channel that was showing old reruns of The Roadrunner. You have to feel sorry for old Wile E. Coyote; the guy tries so hard but always ends up failing. He should really have just saved the money he spent on Acme products and gone and bought a nice hamburger or something.

Dr. Evens showed up just as Coyote was once again falling off a cliff, 'help me' sign in hand, so I turned off the TV and went to greet him. He was a tall African American man, about 6’4” with black hair curled tightly to his head. He was probably in his late 40’s early 50’s and had a stayed, steady demeanor that must have been soothing to his patients. As soon as my mother introduced him to me, he shook my hand with a firm but not crushing grip and peered at my eyes.

“Yes, I can see that we do have a problem here,” he said in a surprisingly light voice with a distinct New England accent.

“Why don’t we go inside and you can look him over,” said my mother.

Dr. Evens grabbed a large black bag from where he had set it down outside when he first greeted us, and we went into the living room, where he had me sit on the couch.

He started off with what you would normally expect from a visit to the doctor’s office, blood pressure, temperature, heart rate, and the like. He spent a long time looking at my eyes with one of those magnifying doohickeys that shine a light in your eye. Of course my eyes were shining right back at him so I guess we were even. This whole time he was asking me questions. They were about what you would expect and lots of them had been asked by my mother and father last night.

How long have your eyes been like this? Do they feel any different? Were you exposed to anything unusual recently? Have you changed any of your normal habits? I answered all of them as honestly as I could but didn’t really think there was anything important in any of the information.

When he asked if anything unusual had happened lately, I had to pause for a moment. Could what happened to my test have anything to do with this? I wasn’t sure and part of me was still afraid to admit to lying to the folks.

My hesitation was noticed, and before they could ask anything, I remembered about how everything had looked funny yesterday morning when I was walking Harvard. So I told him about everything looking like there were glowing lines in them and around them. He wrote a note down about this and continued on with the questions.

I know I was being stupid; how is a doctor supposed to help you if you don’t tell him everything he might need to know? You got to cut me some slack, I was a teenager, and we are known for doing stupid things for stupid reasons; it’s practically what being a teenager is all about.

After Dr. Evens had asked all the questions he wanted to, he brought out a needle and took his share of my blood, the damn vampire.

“Well Mr. Oakson, as far as I can tell there is nothing physically wrong with you except for the obvious fact that your eyes are not normal. I believe that the most likely explanation for what is happening is that you have manifested as a mutant. We will know for sure if that is what happened after I get the blood work back. Until then, I want you to stay out of school; you may end up being a danger to yourself and others, and you will probably need to get more testing done before I feel I can lift that ban,” said Dr. Evens.

Well, being a mutant wasn’t a great surprise to me; I had already figured that was what it was. Still, it was kind of nervous and exciting to have it confirmed, at least tentatively.

“Will I get any cool powers or anything?” I asked.

“That remains to be seen and is the reason I want more testing done. I want you to be very careful, and if anything strange happens, immediately tell someone,” said the doctor.

I promised him I would, and before he left, he gave me some pamphlets with titles like ‘Your changing mutant body’ and ‘Now you have powers, what do you do?’ Okay, I read the pamphlets, and there wasn’t anything that wasn’t covered in the mutant section of the high school biology class. Most of the advice they gave was to see a professional. I did have a snicker though at the part that told you that you might start to notice hair growing in strange places. I had to wonder when the puberty pamphlet people got into the mutant pamphlet business.

I hung around the house for a while, catching a few more cartoons, but in the end, I got bored. There was nothing to really do, and I was antsy with built up energy. I wandered around the house, poking my nose into things before I eventually decided to go for a run. My mother was not happy with the idea.

“Adam, I don’t know if you should be going out of the house; it might not be safe,” she said.

“Come on Mom, it will be perfectly fine. I am just going to run around the neighborhood, and I’ll be right back,” I wheedled.

“What if someone sees your eyes? Who knows how the neighbors would react to something like that.”

“Look, if it will make you feel better, I’ll wear some sunglasses. It’s bright outside, and no one will notice my eyes. I really need to get out and run some, please?”

She seemed to relent after a moment of hesitation. “Alright, but I want you back in 40 minutes. I’m expecting someone to be here soon, and you need to meet him.”

Mom still seemed nervous, so I hurried before she could change her mind and changed into some running clothes. On my way out the door, I yelled for Harvard, and he came running out to join me. I always took him running with me; he kept up fine, and it was nice to have undemanding company.

I did a few stretches to warm up my body before I took off at an easy pace down the road of our neighborhood. My troubles started to melt away as I got into the zone that came from a really good run. It was just me and the road. My breathing was coming easy, and I felt my legs warm with my exertion. The wind cooled my sweat and made the leaves in the trees sigh. There were no cars on the street; it was the middle of the day and everyone was at work or school. My dog was keeping up with me, sometimes staying to sniff at the grass then running ahead to chase a squirrel or investigate where some other dog had left his scent.

After about 20 minutes, I rounded a corner and decided to run through a new part of the neighborhood that was being developed. Most of the lots were empty, but here and there was a new home being built. I ran on for a little while before I came to a cul-de-sac. All the properties along this dead end were still being built, and I decided to take a bit of a rest on a low pile of timbers next to a mound of dirt. Well, it used to be dirt, now it was mud, thanks to the rain we seemed to have had last night.

Harvard sniffed around it for a while before heading off in another direction, doubtless hot on some trail. I leaned back against the wood, my finger just reaching the ground as it fell over the side of the pile. I was focusing on breathing in and out. It was starting to get hot, but it still wasn’t as bad as it would get later in the year.

I felt a tingle in my hand and looked down at it. Without me even knowing it, my finger had been idly moving along the ground making lines in the dirt, but it didn’t look right. It didn’t look like a mark that just happened. If you just swing your arm around, you should just get a lot of loops. What it reminded me of was those patterns from the test yesterday.

I’ll tell you the truth, I started to freak out a little. My hand doing things on its own just creeped me out. It brought to mind old sayings about the devil and idle hands. I might have given more credence to the thought if it had been my right hand doing it. I am left handed so it’s nowhere near idle, I write with it, I eat with it, I get o…uh I do a lot of things with it.

It really was a moment of terror staring, me standing there and staring at my hand. It is rather unfortunate that this perfectly good spine chilling horror that I was feeling was completely eclipsed a moment later; it really was a nice little terror and didn’t deserve to be upstaged like that.

I was looking down at my hand, when heard a kind of slumping noise. It was the same kind of noise you hear when you land your shoe in deep mud and you go down about a foot. I tore my gaze away from my hand to see where the little picture or whatever it was seemed to be rising. It kept rising till it was level with the pile of lumber I was sitting on. I just sat there, frozen in something akin to shock. I don’t actually think anything was going through my head; I was stuck on observe mode.

The lump of brown mud kept up its steady increase, and after a second, it started to get definition. It was now about three and a half feet tall with a smaller basketball sized lump on top of a much bigger one. On that smaller lump, I was starting to see indentations and protrusions, and, as it continued to grow, they became clearer. It finally resolved into the crude contours of a human face! When its eyes seemed to pop open, I have to admit I screamed, not yelled. There are times when screaming like a little girl is justified, and when there is a giant mud monster looking at you, it is one of those times.

It was level with my height sitting down, and its growth seemed to be accelerating. My scream must have upset it, because it screamed back in a burbling, bubbling voice, and it lifted an arm I hadn’t seen form and took a swipe at me. I would really like to say I had lightning fast reflexes and dodged the strike, but to tell the truth, what really happened was I lost my balance when I flinched back and fell off the woodpile.

I actually did take the opportunity to do something smart after that and rolled away from the lumber in the opposite direction from the monster. It was a good thing too, because there was a shower of splinters and bits of wood as the mud man pounded the pile of wood to pieces.

I got to my feet; the thing was now close to seven feet tall, and did the only sensible thing, ran like hell. Now, I’m a runner, mostly its long distance, but I have long legs, and I can get a good turn of speed when it’s needed. Which is something I am eternally thankful for because that thing was right on my ass.

It really wasn’t all that fair; mud men are supposed to be slow, oozing creatures that haltingly stalk their prey; that’s how it is on TV and in fantasy books. This thing was nothing like that, well, except for the oozing part; it was fast. It had a liquid smoothness and seemed to flow forward. It reminded me of a clip I had seen on the internet a while back. It was of a guy and his buddy driving as fast as they could away from a mud slide. The buddy was filming in the back of a truck and a wall of mud was right behind them. Everything that was in the path of the mud was picked up as if it were made of styrofoam. The mud man that was chasing me was that kind of mud man, an unstoppable force bearing down on me like the earth had suddenly decided that gravity was going the wrong way by 90 degrees.

I tried suddenly changing my course and dodging to the side, but all that did was almost get me plastered. Where is the conservation of momentum? A seven foot pile of mud should not be able to corner like a granny with a shopping cart that sees a sale on denture cream.

It was slowly gaining on me, and I was getting desperate. The thought of being smashed to bits by that thing was horrible. Or it could be worse maybe it would grab me and wrap itself around me so that I was trapped in the mud unable to breath and… Now really wasn’t the time to be thinking of those things, I told myself. Up ahead was a house that was under construction. The framing was all up and so was most of the roof on the two-story home. I quickly made my way to it, hoping that I could hide in there, since I didn’t think it could fit though the door.

I made it to the house just in time, as the mud man was oozing on my heels. I shot through the front door, which was thankfully a small one, and slammed it behind me. The mud man hit the door and…the door bounced right back open! Damn, they hadn’t put the hardware in yet! Even with the door not being able to latch closed, it did slow the mud man down, and I quickly wiggled my way through two of the studs to the next room. Ha! I would like to see that giant, oversized excuse for a mud pie pull that trick off.

I know what you’re thinking, you fool, it’s a mud man, do you really think wooden studs are going to stop it? The studs will just go through it; it’s made of mud after all! Well, in a way you are right, but in a way, you are wrong too. The mud man did try to do a dirty imitation of the move that the liquid terminator did with the prison bars, but I guess it wasn’t as high budget as he was, so it was real slow doing it. Of course, I was already out of that room and into the next. So I think it got a little frustrated, and, with another bubbling roar, it seemed to shake itself all over, and the wood that was halfway in its body broke as it demolished part of the wall it was stuck in. Holy crap, as if I wasn’t scared enough of what that monster would do to me.

It came rushing back after me and didn’t even slow as it meet the next wall, just crashing through it with a snapping of the wood that sounded like a bulldozer. I looked around desperately for something to do and spied a set of stairs leading to the second floor. I scrambled up them, going three steps at a time. It was only when I reached the top that I realized I had effectively trapped myself up there with no way to get down except a jump off the side of the building.

I turned back to see how Mr. Mud Man was dealing with the stairs and praying that it would have a harder time of it than it did with the walls. At first, it seemed like my “plan” had worked, and I would be safe. The monster took a couple of steps up the stairs, and one of them creaked and gave way with a loud snap. Its leg fell down through the broken board, and it almost looked like it would get stuck. Yeah right, like I would be that lucky. Its lower body seemed to coalesce, and the now solid pillar of mud seemed to spread out, supporting more of its weight on the flight of stairs. It slid up the stairs, leaving a thick trail of mud behind coating the steps.

So here I was, trapped at the top of a half-constructed building with nowhere to go, unless I wanted to risk a broken leg from a fall, faced with something from a bad horror movie. And you know, now that I had nowhere else to go I stopped feeling as frightened as I had at first. I started feeling kind of angry. This kind of shit shouldn’t happen, not to your average 16 year old who was just going out for a run. I mean, mud men? Really? What was next, an evil cult of demon worshipers or secret assassin teams? This wasn’t some Saturday morning cartoon, this was my life!

I went over to where a stack of cut up two by four’s were scattered on the ground, the obvious discards from some of the construction, and picked up a good four foot length of wood. I swung it in the air, getting a feel for it. This mud monster was about to learn what happened when you messed with an Oakson who was having a bad day. Most likely the monster was going to break my neck, but I was going to see if I could knock its head off first!

It was almost at the top of the stairs, and I got in front of it, ready to swing at the first piece of mud that got close enough to hit. Mr. Mud was obliging by reaching out a long muddy arm and trying to take hold of me. My improvised club made a satisfying splat as it hit the side of the arm. It would have been nice if my weapon had taken off the arm, but as it was, all it did was sink a few inches into the material of its body, oh yeah, and make a god awful mess as mud spattered all over the place. I pulled my club out of its arm with a sucking sound and swung at it again, trying to hit it in the same place. There was another spatter of mud, and my piece of wood sunk in further than it did last time. I hit it one more time in the arm, and finally, with a spray of more mud, the arm fell off. What was left of the arm fell to the floor and splashed over me and the surrounding area.

Mr. Mud did not react well to this turn of events, and with an even louder roar that showered even more mud at me, it lurched finally up onto the second floor. Jeez, say it, don’t spray it. I took another swing at it, this time aiming for the torso. This turned out to be a mistake as the two by four sank into the mud of its body and seemed to get stuck there. I gave a few yanks, but it wouldn’t come free, and I decided to let it go. It was that or have a close and personal experience with Mr. Mud’s remaining hand.

I backed up, weaponless and frustrated as all hell. Mr. Mud paused long enough to reach up and pull the two by four out of its chest and throw it against the half-finished walls. It then turned back to me, and, with more burbling noises, rushed me. I jumped to the side, but still managed to get clipped. That knocked me off more courses, and I ended up landing on my side as I fell to the floor. Ow, that hurt! Why am I always getting beaten up?

I quickly scrambled away on hands and knees; it didn’t seem a good idea to stay where I was for too long. After getting some distance, I rolled to my feet. Mr. Mud was between me and the stairs, so that way was blocked for my escape. I looked about wildly; I was in the very corner of the house, and the mud monster was directly across from me, either way I went, I would be heading closer to the thing. That left one option; I just hoped I didn’t break a leg.

I was lucky, they must have planned to have an extra large window in this room, so my means of egress wasn’t that high from the floor. Not bothering to check on Mr. Mud, I ran for the window and crawled out of it. I let myself dangle over the edge of the window, then pushed off of the wall and let go. I was hoping that by pushing off with enough force I would avoid hitting the hard concrete slab.

I have read plenty of books, and at one point or another, a character has had to fall from some height, and they always talked about rolling when you hit to absorb some of the impact. I tried my best to do what I thought was rolling when I hit the ground. I had decided to roll to the right, which is probably the reason my right foot was out further than my left. I landed with all of my weight on that foot, and, while I immediately tried to shift my momentum into rolling, or rather falling, to the right, my ankle still felt like something had popped.

When I came to a stop, it was on my back looking up at where I had jumped from. It was not a pleasant sight, as Mr. Mud was now glaring down at me. Well, it would probably have been a glare if its face hadn’t been made out of mud that was constantly running down its face with that damn picture thing I had drawn on its forehead. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and had just enough time to roll some more as the big mud man dropped out the space were the window would be.

You can probably predict part of what happened. A ton of mud hitting the ground acts in certain ways, and one of those ways is that it splatters everywhere. Since I was right next to it, I ended up covered in mud from head to toe. I rubbed the mud out of my eyes. Had the thing just killed itself? There certainly was no man shape anymore, just a mound of mud. I got to my feet shakily, my ankle killing me, and stared at the mud. It seemed to be over. What the hell had happened? Had I somehow created that monster when I drew that picture? If so, I was going to have to watch what my hand was doing much more carefully. What would have happened if I had made that thing at school or somewhere else with people? I shuddered at the thought of Mr. Mud rampaging around school, swatting students left and right and leaving horrible mud stains on the carpet. If this was some kind of mutant power I wasn’t sure I liked it. No scratch that, I was really sure I didn’t like it. Just then, the pile of mud started to shudder.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” I yelled.

The damn thing was still alive, if you could call something made of mud alive. It grew upwards, seeming to mound up on its own till it had reformed its rough body. It was maybe a little smaller, probably since it had lost a bit of its mud. So it was only six feet tall rather than seven. I started limping away from it at high speed, cursing under my breath the whole while. Where was a super hero when you needed one?

I didn’t get that far before Mr. Mud had caught up with me. I turned to face it. I wasn’t going die running away, I was going to go down fighting, no matter how futile it seemed. But before Mr. Mud could strike, there was a horrible barking and growling, and, like a streak of brown lighting, Harvard was beside the mud man biting at the back of its leg. If Mr. Mud had been human, he would have been hamstrung, but, things being as they were, all my dog did was get a mouth full of mud, despite the incredible power of his jaws. Harvard must have been channeling his inner wolf, because, before Mr. Mud could turn and swing at him, he had faded back out of the way.

“Get the hell away from my dog!” I yelled.

I might be willing to face my own death, but no way in hell was I letting some reject from a horror show hurt my dog. There are some things you just don’t do and one of them is mess with a man’s dog. I attacked the mud monster, hitting it with my fists in a futile attempt at destruction. They sank into its muddy flesh again and again, but nothing seemed to really hurt it. It turned back to me and slapped me down with a wet blow of its arm.

“Harvard get away, go home!” I yelled trying to save my dog at least.

But he wasn’t listening, and, as the mud man bent over me to smother me or kill me in some other horrible fashion, my dog leapt right at it. He landed on its back and started tearing at it with his teeth. Mr. Mud was thrown forward by the weight of my dog, and my dog climbed higher on its back till he was in reach of its head. Then he bit at it savagely. In all the biting, my dog got just the right spot, he bit where the pattern I had drawn when this whole mess started was, and, with that simple action, Mr. Mud fell apart, most of it landing on me, by the by.

I know it should have been obvious to me what to do, you probably already figured out the way to beat Mr. Mud as soon as it formed. I’m still beating myself up about that, and someone never lets me hear the end of it, but back to the story.

I was laying there covered in mud, a bit at a loss. I was safe, I wasn’t going to die, my dog wasn’t going to die. My mom was going to kill me when she heard about this! Harvard came over and sniffed at my face before sneezing mud out his nose.

“You have definitely earned a Scooby Snack,” I told him while I reached up and patted his head. “But only after you have had a bath.”

The two of us must have looked a sight on our way home. I had lost my sunglasses at some point, and there wasn’t a spot on us that wasn’t covered with mud. If I had drawn a picture on my forehead, I could have passed as Mr. Mud’s younger brother. That thought sent a chill down my spine. I had no plan to draw anything that wasn’t in the alphabet any time soon. Hell, I might not even do the alphabet; that letter Q has always looked a little funny to me, like it was up to something.

The walk home was uneventful; no one was out except Ms. McCfinlie, and I just waved to her as she stared slack jawed at us walking down the sidewalk leaving muddy footprints behind us. She was the local gossip, so I was sure everyone would have heard about my dirty condition by the end of the day. She was also accepted as the one that made up damn fool stories that no one believed, so I wasn’t worried about my reputation much.

When I got to my house, I got a bad feeling; something just wasn’t right. The stillness of the air or the quietness of the natural sounds, something was off. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I tried to ignore it, putting it down to my recent unnerving experiences. But when I got to the door and saw it was partly open, alarm bells started going off in my head. Harvard started a warning growl deep in his chest and got in front of me trying to block my way, his eyes locked on the door with a hard intensity. The alarm bells in my head had sirens added to them. My dog never growled like that unless there was a real threat. Something was up.

I pushed Harvard out of the way gently but firmly. “Mom's in there, boy, we ain’t goin’ nowhere till we know what’s up,” I whispered. He must have gotten the message, because he stopped his growling and kept quiet, splitting his focus between the door and me.

I creeped up to the door and put my ear to the crack. I heard nothing, but that might have had something to do with how loud my breathing seemed to have gotten. Strange, isn’t it, how the harder you try to be quiet so you can listen, the more noise your body seems to make. I eased the door open, glad that Dad kept the hinges oiled and there was no tell-tell squeak to give me away. Inside, things were a shambles, furniture was turned over and pictures had been knocked off the walls. I stared down at the broken glass of the photo of me and my sister fishing in Lake Livingston when I was ten and she was seven. Both of us had sunburned noses and the biggest grins, as we held up the ten pound bass we had managed to wrestle about the boat. Unless you have had someone break into your home and destroy it, you really don’t know the feeling it gives you. You feel violated, like something precious has been stolen from you. The one place in all the world you thought you would be safe just no longer feels that way. That is what I was feeling as I stepped over the scattered detritus of our lives and into my home.

I moved as silently as I could from the entrance way and into the living room. I was looking all around me trying to spot any threat. Once I got well into the living room and could see the front of the couch, my heart flew up into my throat. On the sofa was my Mother. She didn’t seem to be awake, and for a horrible moment I thought she might be dead. I rushed to her side, heedless of any noise I was making, and felt for a pulse. Thank god my high school had offered first aid classes last year, finding a pulse can be much harder than it looks on TV. I found one, it was strong and steady, but my Mom's skin felt clammy. I dug in my pocket, pulling out my cell phone so I could call 911.

“Put down the phone, boy.”

My gaze snapped up, standing in the kitchen was a man dressed in casual wear of white button up shirt and khaki pants, holding a gun, a big gun. Well, it looked big to me, but then, I tend to think most guns pointed at me are big.

“Uh, hi?” I said. Yeah, I know, not the greatest line I could have thought up in that situation, but I didn’t get shot, so by my book it worked great.

“I said, put down the phone,” Khaki guy repeated. Oh right, I had forgotten I held it in my hand. I let it drop to the wooden floor with a thud. I hoped my screen didn’t just bust, it was a new phone.

“Jameson, Zerg, get in here,” called Khaki guy.

Behind me, from the direction of my Dad’s office came the sound of two sets of hurried feet. I shot a glance over my shoulder and saw two more men enter the living room from that direction. One was tall and skinny, and the other was fat and short. They would have made a perfect set of clowns if it wasn’t for the burning look in their eyes.

“Y’all take whatever y’all want; I’m not going to try to stop you,” I said, trying to keep the situation calm.

“Oh, we will be taking what we want! Our Lord Whippoorwill has commanded us, and in the name of our Dark God Cochul’relk’thultul, we shall carry out his will!” said Khaki guy, and I could almost see the spittle flying as he pronounced this with religious zeal.

Mark him down as crazy with a side order of insane, I thought to myself. This did not look good. Anyone whose god had more punctuation in his name than the rest of the sentence he said it in was defiantly not someone you want pointing a gun at you.

I lifted my hands very slowly to show I wasn’t up to anything and said, “Just tell me what it is you want, and I will see to it you get it.”

The fat one behind me let out a little titter that gave me the creeps. I wanted to turn around and see what he was laughing at, but I decided it wasn’t a good idea to take my eyes off the gun toting maniac. I did catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was Harvard silently moving in the entrance way. I have no idea how he could be moving that quietly, but somehow he wasn’t making a sound. All his muscles were tight, ready for action at a moment’s notice.

“That is so kind of you to offer,” said Khaki guy. “You see, what we want, what we were sent for…was you!”

Several things happened at exactly that same moment. The clowns behind me grabbed for my arms, and Khaki guy raised the gun in warning for me not to move. At the same time, Harvard made his leap right for Khaki guy, a blood chilling roar coming from his gaping jaws. He hit Khaki guy teeth first right on his extended arm, knocking it off course. The gun went off with a bang that sounded much louder than it did on TV. Sensing the moment, I wrestled my arms out of the reach of the Clowns and managed to give one of them an elbow right in the face.

But my victory was short lived, as the next thing I knew, something heavy and hard hit me right behind my ear. I saw stares and fell to the ground. I must have lost it for a second, because when I opened my eyes, I was staring up at the clowns. The tall one who looked like he had a broken nose had a gun out and was pointing it back towards Khaki guy yelling, “Move out of the damn way, and I’ll shoot the damn thing!” Oh god! They were going to shoot my dog! I tried to get up, but my hands didn’t seem to be working right, and I just fell back down on to the floor. The fat Clown loomed large in my vision, and I saw him bringing a metal bar of some kind down on me. The last thing I heard before everything went dark was the single bark of a gun…

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 4
 

I felt the rumble of the car’s engine and heard the sound of other traffic around us. I loved these family trips we would go on. The family would pack enough for a week or two in the summer or over spring break, and we would go on a road trip to different parts of the country. It was great to get a nap while we would eat up the miles to our next destination. I would just lean back in the seat and let the world go by.

I turned in my sleep. Something was wrong; the car seat didn’t feel right. It was too flat to be just leaning back all the way, and it was hard, too hard for the leather seats. That’s when my head started to pound, and I knew I wasn’t on a family vacation.

“How much farther is it to the exit, Zerg?”

“Another quarter mile; after that it’s all back country roads.”

“It’s almost time! Once we bring the sacrifice, our god will arise!” said a third voice I recognized as Khaki guy.

“Damn it, Raymond, stay still! Your arm is torn up from that mutt, and we don’t want you to start bleeding again,” said the first man.

“Once our god is with us, all our injuries, new and old, will be healed; he will raise us up and make us kings of men!”

“Shut up, Raymond, we all know of the rewards we will earn,” said the man the other had called Zerg. “Just be quiet so Jameson can drive in peace.”

I remembered what had happened, about the three men that had been in my home. What was going to happen? Was my Mom okay!? And, oh god, my dog, they had shot my dog! I must have made some kind of noise at that point, because I then felt a boot in my side.

“Hey guys, I think the kid is waking up!” said the voice of Zerg. I didn’t know if he was the fat one or the tall one of the clowns, since I didn’t want to open my eyes. I just knew, with the way my head was pounding, that any kind of light would be blinding; besides I was half hoping that if I just closed my eyes tight enough it would just all go away. A childish wish, I know, but in situations like this we sometimes revert to the patterns of our youth, even though I knew my dad wasn’t going to come in and tell me there was no monster under the bed. The monsters were real and they had me.

“I told you that first knockout dose wouldn’t last long enough; give him the other needle that the boss gave us to keep him quiet.”

I felt a pain in my left shoulder. and then slow, cold, numbness crept though my body until it reached my mind and all I saw was black once more.

~o~O~o~

I slowly came to, head pounding fit to burst. My back was leaned up against a wall of some kind that felt hard and cold, so I knew I wasn’t in the car any more. I hesitantly opened my eyes. I didn’t want anyone to know I was awake yet and give me another shot of whatever they had given me in the car. From between my silted eyelids, I saw I was in a dimly lit room, actually more of a cell than anything. It was illuminated by a single weak light bulb hung high on the ceiling. The walls were made of a yellowish stone, roughly finished, and probably not something that would pass a building code inspection. There was a heavy looking door in the wall across from me that I would bet a lot of money was locked.

I thought I was alone at first until I saw a slumped figure against one of the walls. I immediately shut my eyes, hoping that they hadn’t seen me looking. After a while with no outcry, I tentatively opened my eyes again too look. The person was still slumped against the other wall. This time I noticed that there appeared to be chains running from the wall to his or her arms. Maybe they were a prisoner like me?

“Hey, psst! Do you know where we are?” I tried.

I got no response, even after I tried a couple more times, getting louder each time. Keeping an eye on the door, I moved over to where the other person was. I reached out to shake their shoulder, thinking they might be out of it like I was, and when I did, their head, which had hung forward, lolled to the side, and I could see their face. I threw up. What had once been a face, of man or woman I don’t know, was now a mass of rotting tissue. Most of the lips were gone, leaving a wide grin of yellowed teeth. The eyes were gone as well; they were just black pits that seemed to stare sightlessly at me. I scrambled away from the corpse as fast as I could and huddled in a corner as far away as I could get.

What the guys that grabbed me said came back; they wanted me, they were bringing a ‘sacrifice’ and would be rewarded. I got the cold shivers then. My dog was dead, my Mom might be as well, and I might end up a corpse like the one against the wall. I started to feel my eyes burn with incipient tears. No! I thought to myself, resolve hardening me. I wasn’t going to break down; I wasn’t going to lose it. I was going to survive this, and if they had hurt my family, I was going to make them pay, whoever they were.

I got up from that damn corner and strode to the door. I pounded on it till my hand hurt, yelling for those bastards to come face me. It was a while before I got any kind of response. Finally, the grate at eye level slid aside, and a pair of hard fanatical eyes glared in at me.

“It looks like sleeping beauty is awake. Quiet down before I have to give you a lesson in proper manners around here,” he said in an evil little voice.

Yeah, that was going to shut me up, not. I spat in his eye and started telling him what I thought of his parents. Who I explained were respectively a cross eyed goat and a monkey who liked to put his peanuts where the sun doesn’t shine. This did not seem to amuse him; maybe his mother was sensitive about being cross-eyed.

There was a jingling of what sounded like keys, then the door flew open, knocking me back. I quickly recovered and stood in the middle of the dank room as the greasy haired man, with my spit still on his face, came in with what I guessed was a policeman’s club.

“You’re going to regret that, little boy,” he said, wiping the spittle off his eyes.

I guess he expected me to wait for him to make the first move, because I caught him completely by surprise when I rushed him with his hand still up cleaning his face. I hit him hard and low, ramming him against the side of the door frame. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and I thought I had him for a moment, but it wasn’t going to be over that easily. He managed to push me off of him enough that he could deliver a hard jab with his balled up left hand to my ribs. This made me back off even more, giving him enough room to bring up the black plastic baton. He brought it down on my left side, and even though I dodged as best I could, my arm still felt numb from the shock of impact.

I knew if I gave him room to use that club, I would be in a major disadvantage, so I did my best to rush him again, slamming him back up against the door jam. I shoved my forearm up against his throat, trying to cut off his air supply. He didn’t seem to like this, because he started clawing at my face with his hands, dropping the baton in the process. I tried to turn my face away from his fingers, but he still dug at me. He had one thumb in my eye, but before he could do any real damage, I bit the fingers on that hand. I tasted blood in my mouth but didn’t let go, I just tried to bite down harder.

I suddenly felt myself falling backwards. The greasy little man had kicked my legs out from under me. I flailed with my hand, trying to grab hold of something to stop my fall. What I ended up seizing was the guy’s grimy shirt, but that didn’t stop my fall, it only brought him down with me. I twisted as we fell so that we both landed on our sides. The impact made me lose my grip on his fingers, and I spat out the blood. That bastard and I rolled around on the floor for a few minutes each trying to get the better of the other. I was glad he was a pretty small guy since, while I wasn’t small for my age, I was still a sixteen year old and not as big as most full grown men. I got my chance to end this when the little guy was starting to roll on top of me. I managed to get a leg up and kneed him in the coconuts. There might be some men out there who can take the pain of a viciously placed knee to their testicles and keep on fighting; this guy wasn’t one of them. He doubled over in pain, and I soon had him off me and was on my feet.

My dad had taught me how to fight, he also taught me that there were some things you didn’t do in a fight. One of those things was kick a man when he was down. Since at the time he explained this to me we were talking about confrontations I might get into at school, and the topic of what to do when you have been kidnapped by crazy people who want to sacrifice you to some made-up-sounding god hadn’t come up, I decided to add a caveat of “unless you really need to,” to the rule. I kicked the bastard quite a number of times. It was really cathartic. I stopped when he stopped moving. No, I didn’t kill him, but he probably would wish I did when he woke up.

Now that my captor was down and out of the game, I needed to decide what to do. The answer, of course, was get the hell out of there. So I cautiously stuck my head out the door and looked around. I was at the end of a hallway with cells on either side of it. At the other end was a set of stairs leading up. I guess the only way out of here was up. I gathered the baton from where it had fallen and also rifled through the little unconscious man's pocket to find the keys I had heard jingling earlier.

I cautiously crept down the hall, trying not to make any noise. I didn’t know if this guy had any buddies. When I got to the foot of the stairs, I stopped to listen. I heard a sports announcer nattering on about some game from a TV upstairs somewhere. Good, hopefully that will mask any sound I made as I got the hell out of here.

I made my way up the stairs slowly; they were made of stone so it wasn’t like they could creak or anything, but I was trying to not to make even the slightest noise. At the top of the stairs was a landing with an open doorway on one side and a closed door opposite it. The sound of the sports announcer was coming from the open doorway. I peeked around the open door, keeping my movements smooth and slow so as to not attract attention should anyone be in the room.

The room on the other side of the open doorway wasn’t that big. It looked to be a kind of break room with a couch against one wall and a TV against the other. Luckily for me, this meant that the two guys sitting on the couch had all their attention on the boob box. Unluckily, it also meant they just had to turn their heads to the right and they would see me.

I pulled back out of sight and stopped to consider my options. Since I had seen no other exits, it meant that the closed door had to be the way out. And in order to open it, I would be right where they could see me. I could try to sneak into the break room, and club them with my stolen baton, but since I wasn’t a ninja who could move like a shadow in the night, I didn’t see that happening. That only left opening the door and hoping like hell they wouldn’t notice me. I hoped these guys were as big a couple of sports fans as Brook was and would be too in to the game to notice anything as incidental as a prisoner escape. I wondered what Brook was doing right now; maybe she was watching the same game? Weird to think that at the same time as my safety was hanging by a thread my best friend could be doing something as mundane as watching grown men mess about with some ball. Thoughts of Brook led me to think of how other people might be doing, of how my Mother…no, now was not the time to think about that; I had to stay focused.

I leaned the baton against the wall as quietly as I could, and, promising myself I was going to find that ninja after I got out of this and start taking some lessons, I reached out to the door knob and slowly turned it. Or at least I tried to. It turned the barest fraction of an inch before it stopped. I tried turning it harder but it did no good; the thing was locked!

I backed out of the line of sight of the two men and cursed silently. Then I remembered the keys, which I was clutching in my right hand, by the way, so me forgetting them just showed how preoccupied I had been with staying silent. There were four keys on the ring, and I separated one from the others and tried it on the lock. It was a no go. I tried the second one and it too didn’t fit. I don’t know if it was the sound of the keys or if one of the men just happened to look over, but as I was trying the third one, I head a cry of surprise from the couch potatoes. I turned to find the two guys hastily getting to their feet. Crap.

I grabbed up my stolen baton and made ready to at least hit them a few times before they got me. Or maybe not. One of the guys pulled out a heavy looking gun and pointed it at me. I might be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them, at least that’s what I tell myself. So I dropped the baton, put my hands in the air, and tried to smile at the guys approaching me.

“I uh, seem to have gotten lost looking for the restroom. Could you point the way?”

“Don’t move kid.”

“Not a problem. won’t move a muscle.”

“That includes your mouth.”

“Right, got ya.”

The guy made his gun make a clicking noise that sounded much more threatening than it really needed to, and I decided to zip it. They marched me back to the cell, gun pointed firmly and uncomfortably at my back. I was really hoping they weren’t all that great of friends with the little guy I had kicked earlier. If they were, I might be in a spot of trouble for what happened. Of course, I wasn’t sure how much more trouble I could get into anyway, so that might be a moot point.

“Jesus, he did a number on Eddy, will you look at that,” said the guy without the gun when we got to my cell. He bent over the little guy and checked him out. “You’re going it pay for doing this, kid,” he said in a dark tone.

“Save it, the master wanted to know right away when the kid woke up, and we don’t want to get on the master's bad side. He might use us as one of his sacrifices. Take Ed upstairs and get him looked at. I’ll tell the master,” said the man with the gun.

The guy kneeling by Eddy gave me a dirty look that promised revenge at his earliest convenience, picked up the little man, and carried him out of my cell. The other man backed out of the room, not bothering to say anything to me and locked the door behind him.

I slowly grinned; they had forgotten to take the keys from me! I had been holding them in my hand the whole time and they hadn’t noticed! Now I just had to wait until they were likely to be gone and then… There was the sound of the door being unlocked then swung open. They guy with the gun was back and looking annoyed with himself.

“Give me the keys.”

Damn! I gave over the keys. It was no use playing innocent, since I was still holding them in my hands when he came in. Besides, it wouldn’t have really done any good anyway. It wasn’t like they had key holes on this side of the door. I went over to the wall opposite the door and sat down, leaning against it.

I have done a great job so far, I thought. I have managed to fail at escaping, and added to that, I got my captors really pissed at me. They are probably going to come in any minute and drag me off to the old sacrificial stone where they will have amateur night open heart surgery night. If this were a novel there would have been some kind of secret passage out of here, or I would have found a helpful professional escape artist as my cell mate. I looked over at my cell mate; the guy wouldn’t be helping anyone escape, except maybe my lunch again if I got too near it.

I sat there brooding for a while, idly scratching at the dried mud on my arm, thinking today was definitely not the day to buy lottery tickets with the way my luck was going. I had just gotten to the point in my brooding where I was gloomy enough that even The Brain would have said ‘tonight I’m just going to stay in and eat food pellets’ to Pinky, when there was a sound of booted feet in the hallway.

I sat up straighter but didn’t bother to stand; it wasn’t going to do much good anyway. The door opened, and in strode the two men from before and behind them was a third, taller man. He was dressed in elaborate black robes with the hood drown up to so his face was hidden in shadows. The whole ensemble just screamed evil cult leader. I bet for two pins he would have brought a demon headed staff with him as well. God, I hope he doesn’t monolog; I don’t know if I could stand it.

“You may leave us; I am in no danger from this mortal,” said the guy in the robe in what I guess could have been an intimidating evil voice if it wasn’t for the fact that the whole thing just made you want to groan and roll your eyes.

“So,” he said after his two minions had obediently trooped out. “I have finally found you.”

“All right, stop, I know where this is going, and I have to tell you I am not the love of your life. I know, I know, you have been searching all this time but it’s just not going to happen. You’re an evil maniacal cult leader, and I am just a high school student. It just wouldn’t work out.”

He didn’t seem to appreciate my snark since he grew visibly agitated, well as visibly as someone hidden in a voluminous robe and hood could.

“You will be silent!” he roared before getting control of himself. Maybe I hit a nerve.

“Perhaps, my young friend, you do not fully comprehend your situation here. I would be very glad to apprise you of it,” he said, a bit of gloat creeping in to his words. “You see, you are my prisoner, a prisoner of the cult of Cochul’relk’thultul.”

“I bet you can’t say that ten times fast,” I said.

He ignored me and contented on with his monologue. “I have been searching for you for a long time. That old witch thought I would never find you, she mocked me! But I have proved her wrong, and soon I will achieve my true power. Then the world will learn to fear Whippoorwill the soul stealer!”

Okay, this guy was definitely not playing with a full set of cards; he probably only had a couple of jokers and that card with all the rules on it.

“Would you like to hear part of the prophecy? You are central to it,” he said, smiling evilly. He took up a pose and spoke in sonorous tones.

“Know, oh stealer of souls, that the one who is master over the one who is Named shall have true power over all things named and unnamed. He shall write large the words of power, and he shall be fated to decide the destiny of the Earth. Seek you then the one born in the land of the dog lovers who was conceived as Al Sadian’s comet flamed across the sky. This one, born the son of the Oak, is the one who shall lead you to your fate. Through him will your dreams come true.”

He looked at me as if expecting some kind of response. I yawned, showing him how exciting I found him to be.

“You are the one named in the prophecy, son of the oak, and I will be your master! But I can see what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that just because I am holding you that does not make me your master. You still have your free will after all.”

That hadn’t really been what I was thinking. I had been thinking ‘yep nuttier than squirrel poo under an oak tree.’ But I didn’t raise any objection. He seemed to be on a roll, and I had a bet with myself about how long it would be before I heard an evil villain laugh.

“That is just the kind of deception that old witch would try to pull on me. She would word it in just such a way to trick me, but I got her figured, I did. You see I will not leave you any free will! I have plans for you. I think it is time you meet my son,” BD or bathrobe dude as I decide to call him, said standing back and gesturing with both out stretched arms.

In the space in front of him, seeming to arise out of the very air itself, a shape took form. What I ended up seeing wasn’t very pretty. It was a monstrous being half glimpsed in shadow. There were tentacles and mad red eyes and more mouths with sharp teeth than any natural creature would ever need. Not that this creature could ever be mistaken for natural.

“Fathhher,” came a deep, rumbling sound that I guessed came from the half seen creature in the air, though it sounded like it came from everywhere.

“Ah, my beautiful, beautiful boy, how are you doing today?” BD asked in a loving voice.

“I tire of waiting; when will I get my body? You promised you would find a way for me to exist on the physical plane.”

“Soon my boy, soon. I now have the body you will wear. It is just a little longer and you will be a real boy, just like I promised. I just have to prepare everything so it’s perfect. Can you wait just a little longer for you old father?”

“If you ask it of me father, I will do it,” said the creature as it faded out of view.

I got a really bad feeling about what body BD intended to use to house his ‘son’. Have I said yet how shitty a day I was having?

“Do you like my son? I found him a number of years ago. He is the offspring of some unfortunate spirit-walking shaman and an ancient demonic being that exists outside of our world. That poor shaman went in to places that man was not meant to go, and only managed to get back to our astral plane long enough to violently give birth to our Cochul’relk’thultul before her spirit shredded itself apart from the horror it had seen. Poor little Cochul’relk’thultul was left all alone until I found it. I raised it as my own son. But you must be wondering why I bring up my son. You see, little son of the oak, I intend to give your body to my son. I will force your soul out and allow my wonderful boy to take over. Of course, your body isn’t fit to house my son as yet. It is nowhere near grand enough for him, and certain modifications need to be made so your body doesn’t melt or explode when he enters it. But I will take care of that shortly,” he said. Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I felt him staring intently at me as if expecting something.

I tried to think of something witty to say, but couldn’t think of anything, so I went with my gut.

“Blow me, you psycho bastard.”

I could almost hear the cruel smile behind his next words. “Such nasty words for a lad so young. Are you upset about what I intend for your body? Then you probably don’t want to know what I intend for your soul! But I am going to tell you anyway. There is a reason I am called the soul stealer. You see I can capture a soul as it flees the body, and when I do, I consume it! Muahahaha!”

“You owe me twenty bucks,” I said.

“What?” he said, seemingly nonplussed.

“I had a bet going that it would only take you five minutes before you did the whole evil laugh routine. I won, so I figure you owe me some money.”

“Do you think you’re funny? You will not be laughing soon!” he said before turning to the door and opening it. He yelled for his minions, and they rushed back to him.

“Take him to the Grand Hall; we will have the Ceremony of Transformation soon,” BD said before leaving me with the guards.

The two guards got an evil look on their faces before they began pushing and shoving me out the cell door. They kept me between them as they marched me down the hall and through the door I had tried to open earlier. On the other side of this door was a maze of hallways and rooms that would have gotten me lost if I had managed to get through that door earlier.

Eventually I was led, if you want to call the jerking around those two guys did leading, to a large chamber that I had to admit probably deserved the capital letters of Grand Hall. It was longer than it was wide, and had a vaulted ceiling with large fat stone pillars supporting the sides of it. It reminded me of some of the old cathedrals in Europe I had seen on TV before, minus the rows of pews. At the far end from where we had entered was what would have been an religious altar if it really was a church, but instead, what rested there was a large stone slab that, to my horror, looked like a sacrificial stone complete with ropes to hold down the hapless victim.

Holy poop on a popsicle stick! They were leading me right to that slab! A slab I now saw, besides having lengths of rope to tie me down with, also had red stains that looked suspiciously like dried blood.

“Hey guys, you know I was uh, thinking, and I think we got off on the wrong foot, definitely the wrong foot. Yes, I beat up your guy and I was kind of snarky to your head honcho, but now that I have uh, come to think of it y’all are really a pretty cool group of people. How about y’all let me join y’all's little cult and we forget about this whole ceremony? Huh? I mean, I really like wearing robes too, they are very very uh, unisex? I could be a great addition you your group. If y’all have a track team, I am pretty good at running and…uh…”

I realized I was babbling, so I shut up. Besides the only reaction I was getting were wide predatory grins from my two guards. I also noticed that the room was quickly filling up with other people. Some were dressed with robes similar to but not as grand as BD’s, and others were dressed in normal street clothes. I even saw one guy dressed in a three piece suit. I guess you want to look your best when you're butchering helpless victims.

They drug me up the short set of steps that raised the sacrificial stone up so everyone could get a good view. They had to drag me, since by that time I was desperately trying to get the hell out of there. The larger of my two guards grabbed me around the middle and half flung me on top of the altar stone. I tried to roll off of the other side, but there was already someone over there that just pushed me back to the middle. I felt myself being grabbed by lots of hands that started tearing my clothes off.

“Come on, those are my favorite running clothes!” I said as I tried to fight off the grabbing hands. For my trouble, one of the people back handed me so my head hit the stone I was resting on with a resounding crack. I started seeing stars, and I kind of lost track of what was happening for a while.

~o~O~o~

Neil Cunningham nodded happily to himself as the chosen sacrifice was lead to the altar and stripped. At ninety-four he was both the oldest member of the cult of Cochul’relk’thultul and the longest attending member save the master himself. As such was given much respect. He had long been the leader of the rites and had guided the congregation through many different and difficult ceremonies. The Ceremony of Transformation was to be the pinnacle of such rites. He was tasked with focusing on what new form their god was to take on this mortal plane. He had been studying the ancient scriptures that his master had provided that gave the description of how the god looked, and he had spent many months meditation on the demonic glory that was to come. He was sitting quietly in his appointed place waiting for the time that the ceremony would begin when he overheard a couple of the younger members talking.

“Hey Bob did you see that new show about super models that was on last night? Oh man, there were some HOT girls on that show!”

“I know! I saw it! Man I wish I could meet some girls like that in real life. Why can’t we get some hot girls in this cult? I thought that once I learned the mystic wisdom of the ancients it would help me impress the girls.”

“Yeah, I thought so too, if I was a girl and someone came up to me and said they knew the secrets of the universe I would be all over them!”

“What, if you were a girl you would do a guy?”

“Hey! Of course not! I’m not gay! Knock it off!”

“All right, all right, don’t get in such a huff. Jeez.”

“And you know I thought there would be hot girls in the cult as well. I mean, aren’t there supposed to be wild orgies in a cult and stuff?”

“There is Susan, she’s in the cult. But I mean, who would want to bang her? She is cross-eyed and fat, and hardily ever baths!”

“Shut up man! She’s all right.”

“You did her didn’t you?!”

“Shut up!”

“You totally did her! Man I am going to tell everyone!”

“Dude I’ll give you twenty bucks to shut up about it and keep quite.”

“…alright”

“Back to the topic before we got sidetracked…”

“What topic?”

“Hot girls!”

“Oh, yeah.”

“So what do you think the hottest girl in the world would look like?”

Neil listened to this conversation with half an ear. It was interesting conversation to him. He thought he was the only one that Susan had been sleeping with. What would the hottest girl in the world look like? He knew that one! He started to slip into a day dream about the perfect looking girl. Hmm…

~o~O~o~

When the lights stopped dancing in front of my eyes like demented fireflies I was naked and roped down on the alter stone spread eagled in a really embarrassing way. There was a low humming all around me, and I saw that the Grand Hall was now full of people. There had to be at least fifty or sixty. About a dozen of them were circled around me with the rest kneeling down in the long hall facing us.

The humming suddenly started to develop into chanting in some hideous language I was glad I didn’t know. The volume of the chant was rising and falling like the breathing of some enormous beast. The circle of robed people suddenly closed in around me. They placed cold objects on top of me and some of them started cutting into my flesh. I tried to scream but my voice seemed locked in place unable to make even a sound. My eyes locked on to the guy I called Bathrobe Dude as he stood at my feet waving a wand made of some kind of polished black stone. He was chanting in stark counter point to the rhythmic chanting of the others. His hands seemed to be glowing and as I watched one of the other robed figures brought him a cup that was full of my own blood. He dipped the wand in the cup and suddenly it seemed to catch fire. Oh great did this mean I was going to be picked to participate in some magical interschool contest?

As this was going on I felt cold wrinkled hand place themselves on either side of my head at my temples. These hands held firmly to me and I started to feel a strange warmth coming from them. The chanting of Bathrobe Dude was starting to reach a crescendo with vile words that no person should ever hear punctuated with arcane acts involving my burning blood.

I suddenly started to feel different. I don’t know how I can describe it. It was as if every atom of my body was vibrating but at a frequency unknown to anyone on earth. It then started to become a sharp pain in my gut that spread to all of my body. The people on either side of me loosened the ropes holding me as if expecting something. I suddenly know what it was as my body seemed to pull in on itself. I felt myself shrinking slowly, though not by much.

That wasn’t the only think that was happening my hips were hurting like someone was hitting them with a sledge hammer and I heard a crack as they suddenly seemed to break and shift. I tried to groan with the pain my body was feeling but still nothing would come out. I looked at my arms as they grew slender and the hair that had lightly covered my forearms fell out. Speaking of hair my head felt like it had ants crawling in it. As I was looking at my arms I suddenly noticed that I could actually see my hair! It seemed to be growing and changing color.

What the hell was going on? What are they doing to me! I wanted to scream with the pain and even more with the fear of what was happening and finally my lungs would obey. I let out a long scream, at least I thought I did, but all I heard was a scream that sounded like it might have come from some horror movie where the teenage girl is being stalked by the horrible monster.

I probably should have been able to figure out what was going on, I am sure you have, after all it’s not that difficult to come to the right conclusion what with the information given. I can only say in my defense that I had had no experience with magic and had no idea something like what happened to me could really happen. To me it was the stuff of bad internet fiction.

I heard some swearing coming from some of the people at my sides along the lines of “Oh shit, god I hope it wasn’t me that screwed up.” and other such utterances that you hear only when something has gone badly wrong and your boss is around to see it. I looked back at Bathrobe Dude and while I still couldn’t see his face I could feel the anger coming off of him.

“Who is responsible for this? Who has ruined my plans!” he yelled and all the other chanting cut off into fearful silence.

There was a guilty sounding “auhauhauh,” at my head and the hands holding me there let go. Bathrobe Dude must have heard this because he looked right at the guy. I was too shell-shocked to look up at him myself so I’m not sure what kind of expression he had on his face but his voice sounded like someone really worried about something.

“I-I think I’m going to g-go and uh, go supreme grand master, uh bye!” said a quivery old voice from above my head. I then heard the sound of running feet but not for very long because BD ordered a couple of his guys to head him off.

“Look what you have done you old fool! You have ruined the Ceremony of Changing!” screamed BD, spittle flying from his mouth.

“I’m sorry grand m-master,” said the panicked voice of the old man.

“You fool you! You have ruined everything! I the great Whippoorwill will destroy you! None shall stand in my way! I will rule the world and punish you with a thousand cuts! I will…”

“Oh, shit!” said one of the people next to me in a whisper. “He is Dricking out! Someone go get his medicine!”

“You go get his medicine! I ain’t moving! Remember what he did to the last guy that caught his notice when he was Dricking out? We could never find enough of him left to bury!”

BD was really laying into the old guy in between ranting about how great he was and how he was going to take over the world. Cords of black energy were extended from BD’s hands and were striking the old man like whips. Each hit left deep gashes that would have been a bloody mess if it wasn’t that the cords seemed to be burning the wounds closed at the same time. The only sound in the hall was the sound of DB’s ranting and the low moans of the old man. The noise seemed to take on a rhythm, a deep bass note that thrummed dangerously. It was only after I had been listening to it for a minute that I realized that the note had nothing to do with what was going on in the hall. It seemed to be coming from down one of the corridor that led from the Grand Hall. The rhythm got louder and it was only when some dust started drifting down from the ceiling that BD noticed.

“What is that noise? I, the great Whippoorwill, demand to know!”

The others in the hall stared around in confusion, obviously having no idea what the sound was. The one thing that could be discerned was that it was coming closer. It was almost as loud as a rock concert, and it was with that thought that I suddenly realized what the sound was. It was as loud as a rock concert because that was what it was! It was what sounded like a band of rockers, and it was headed this way. I was sure at that point that I had lost my mind. Not only had some bozo cult guys done something strange to my body, but now I was being nearly deafened by loud, guitar lead music!

Just as the music hit a high note, a man came stalking into the Great Hall in a way that would have done credit to any entrance in an action movie. His fairly tall body stood framed in the entrance way. With his mane of ultra-curly, golden, shoulder length hair seeming to blow in a wind that only affected him. His face was long and delicate without being feminine. But his eyes were what drew the attention the most though; they were a shining gold that seemed to light up his face. His hand moved and struck cords from the guitar he had slung in front of him. The strings screeched like girl that had just discovered why Casanova was so popular with the ladies.

“I’m looking for a boy named Adam. Any of you bastards seen him?”

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 5
 

“I’m looking for a boy named Adam, any of you bastards seen him?” said the man in what could only be described as a menacing voice that had as much music as threat behind it.

BD voice cracked like a wipe in the still air after the man’s voice had faded. “Kill the intruder! Kill him!”

The guys closest to the door moved to grab the man with the guitar but before they had taken even a step the guitar was screaming again and the man was in motion. He slammed his fist into the face of the man closest to him and sent him flying back a good ten feet. Then he backhanded the next cultist knocking him to the floor. After that it was hard to see what happened since there were so many people trying to get hold of him. I saw a few more people go flying but then the knot of people seemed to contract around the man and I thought for sure he was done for.

The music had kept on going even with the fact that I hadn’t seen his hands actually playing the guitar after he started punching, and with him seemingly down it didn’t stop, it only got more intense. Suddenly there were words sung along with the playing and with the words the mass of cultists on top of the man were literally flung away from him as if a bomb had gone off.

Standing alone where there had been a pile of bodies before was the man with the curly gold hair singing with such power that it took you breath away. I vaguely recognized the song as ‘The Mutants Anthem’ though I couldn’t remember whose it was, Metallica or Michael Jackson or someone like that. I was never really into music all that much, I take after my mother in that respect. Cultist were groaning and rolling around on the floor where they had landed and the man kept on singing.

BD gave a snarl of frustration at seeing his cultists defeated so easily and used his cords of black energy to pull the whimpering old man to him. He then drew out a sharp obsidian ceremonial knife and viciously cut the man from groin to sternum. He let the old man fall to the floor where he was feebly trying to get his insides put back from where they had spilled. BD then pulled a black object shaped like a common chicken egg and shoved it into the dying man’s body.

He convulsed and screamed in apparent agony. The screams slowly wound down tell there was nothing but a gurgle then that too stopped. What happened next was like something out of an Aliens movie, ripping its way out of the dead body was a creature from nightmares. It was a glistening black insectoid monster with eight crab like legs and a large elongated head that rose above the body .On its back were four long writhing tentacles two on each side. As it exited the body it started to grow until it was the size of small car.

The cultists that were still able ran from the room as fast as their legs would carry them and the monster shot towards the man singing, its legs moving it in terrifyingly fast gait which made a staccato clicking on the stone floor. I thought for sure that the guy that had charged in here looking for me was going to be toast when that thing got through with him, and at first my guess seemed to be proving right. The man had to dive out of the way as one of the eight legs slammed down where he had been standing shattering the flag stone. He had to scramble away again as a second leg slammed down nearly pinning one of his legs to the floor.

The song the guitar had been playing morphed into a different much more savage tune as the guy sung another song.

I had never heard this song before but it probably wasn’t one I would forget any time soon as the force of it seemed to hit the monster and slam it against a wall causing the room to shake. Unfortunately this didn’t stop the monster, it got back on to his legs and launched another attack at the singer, this time using one of its tentacles to grab him around the middle.

The man grabbed the guitar from where it was handing over his shoulder and gripped it on the end like it was some kind of huge club; all the while the guitar kept on playing its strident notes of challenge. A bright blue nimbus formed around the body of the guitar, seeming to sizzle in the air. He brought it down on the tentacle, hacking half way through it. This caused the Insect-o-fiend to give a shriek of pain and drop him.

The singer landed lightly on his feet and went on the offensive. He swung his blazing guitar at the Insect-o-fiend’s chitinous head and he hit it three times in quick succession spraying black stinking fluid with every blow. The oversized insect quickly backed out of reach, shaking its head and clicking its mandibles.

Then it seemed to rear back on its legs and spewed out a red semi liquid that splashed down around the golden haired man. He was lucky that it mostly missed him since what little did spatter onto his cloths started to burn holes through them. The singer franticly stripped out of his cloths all the while holding on to his guitar. Proving that even in a situation like this humor can be found, or at least embarrassment, the singer was left wearing only a pair of yellow ducky boxers, and his collection of quite nice tattoos.

What happened next was strait out of some Hollywood action movie and had no right actually happening in real life. The monster darted forward while the singer was distracted and tried to tear his face off. Quicker than I could follow the now almost naked singer had his guitar slung onto his back and had somehow avoided the attack and at the same time managed to climb onto the insects back. From there he got a grip around its neck, his long muscular arms reaching to encircle it. He kept up with his singing despite having his face pressed up against the monster.

The giant bug started to thrash, its tentacles trying desperately to get a hold on the man, but he clung too tightly for them to get a good grip. It skittered around on the floor desperately trying to get the man off. There was a ‘pop’ and its head suddenly sagged to one side. Its tentacles still waved, about and it continued stumbling around, but it was clear that it was dead, its body just not having gotten the message yet.

The singer jumped off its back and the guitar that still hung from his shoulders wound down its playing until it stopped. I had gotten used to the guitar playing so it cessation was as startling in some ways as a thunderclap. I looked around and saw that everyone that was conscious, including BD, was gone and it was just me, the man, and the poster child for Raid.

I must have made some sound because the singer looked over at me. He smiled in a reassuring way and hurried over to me saying “It’s all right girl, I’m not going to hurt you. Let me get you untied.”

Girl? I guess that was when the horrible feeling of wrongness really hit me. I looked down at myself. At the gentle swell of breasts and thin waist, at the pale smooth skin and the shapely legs. I started to cry. My god, what had those whack jobs done to me, I looked like a girl!

The singer saw me crying and made soothing noises as he untied my bonds. “Don’t worry girl, those people are gone and that bug thing is dead. I’m going to get you out of here.”

I started crying even harder when he called me girl again. He finished untying me and patted my hand in what he must have thought was a reassuring way. “I just need to find a boy named Adam in here and we can leave. He is about your height with brown hair and blue eyes, have you seen him?”

At first I was too chocked up to get any words out and but finally I was able to say something. “I-I am Adam!”

His look of confusion slowly gave way to one of dismay. “What did they do to you?”

I just cried harder.

“Hey, it’s okay Adam.” he said, “I’m going to get you out of this; I’ll take care of everything.”

He reached down to pick me up and my eyes widened in panic. “What is i-augh!”

“Oh I don’t think you will be able to take care of anything,” Rising behind the singer was BD with one of his black cords wrapped around the singer’s neck where the flesh scorched and smoked.

After the singer passed out and it was quiet, a few of the cultist peeked back around doors and hallways to see what had happened. BD snapped orders to them and the singer and I were hustled down to the dungeon sans guitar which got left in the great hall.

They were nice enough to put us both in the same cell I had been in before. They manacled me to the wall but since Stinky the decomposing corpus was already using the other set they decided to put the singer in kind of full body handcuffs you see on some TV shows. Except while those have a chain that reaches from the handcuff to the legcuffs that is long enough for the person to stand, the one that the singer was forced into was only a couple of feet long, so he was kept doubled over where he lay on the floor.

I hate to admit it but I didn’t do very well for the next twenty minutes or so. Maybe it was the fact that I was facing imminent death, maybe it was …was whatever had happened in the great hall to my body. Hell maybe it was the fact that I was as naked as the day I was born. Being starkers generally makes you feel more vulnerable and I was feeling pretty vulnerable at that point. So I sat there with my arms handing above my head by the chains and sobbed. I was a total wreak. I pretty much stayed that way until the singer began to move.

At first he groaned and moaned until he finally was fully conscious “Adam?” he blinked up at me from where he was laying on this side on the floor. “Hey Kiddo don’t cry, we are going to get through this. I have been in tougher jams than this before,” his words were a bit muzzy but were growing in cohesion.

“That’s what my dad calls me,” I got out though my sobs in a little voice.

“What?” said the singer nonplused.

“Kiddo, that’s what my dad always calls me.” I wasn’t sure why that inane thought had come up; maybe it was because I didn’t think I would ever see him again.

“I’m sorry, I won’t call you that then,” said the singer.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind. It was just you saying it that reminded me of him,” I said.

“You’re going to see your father again, I promise you,” he said struggling to get up from the floor into a sitting position.

What was he a mind reader? Come to that maybe he was a mind reader. He must be some kind of mutant with the way he handled those cult people and that monster.

“Did you read my mind?”

“Read your mind? No I’m just good at reading people,” he explained. “At least most people,” he said that last almost sadly.

We were quite for a moment, probably both not knowing what to say, finally I asked. “Who are you?” that had been bugging me; it wasn’t often that a mysterious rock and roll mutant showed up to save your bacon. Well, try to save your bacon at least.

The singer hesitated for a moment before saying. “You can call me Kent, I’m an old friend of your mother, she called me up when you manifested your mutant powers,” Something about him was tickling at the back of my mind, something about him sounded familiar, but other thoughts overwhelmed it. My mother had old mutant friends? Holy hell, why hadn’t I ever heard about this before? Mom definitely went up a few coolness points for that.

“Do you know if my Mom is okay?” I asked hoping he would know.

“She’s fine. She was in the hospital when I left to come find you. She had been injected with a tranquilizer of some kind and should fully recover.”

I sighed with relief, some of the panic I had been feeling sliding way. My Mom was alive. They hadn’t killed her. “How did you find me? It’s not like they have signs on the highway reading next exit McDonald’s, Exxon and evil hidden cult do they?”

Kent grimaced slightly. “I must have gotten to your place just a little after they took off with you. I called 911 and got Veronica to the hospital. She came out of it long enough to tell me and your father, who the hospital had contacted when they brought her in, that some men had jumped her and we figured they had probably taken you. I convinced your dad not to tell the cops.”

“Why?” I asked surprised.

“Because you being a newly manifested mutant the police would probably have brought in the MCO, if that had happened your chances of actually being rescued even if you were found would be nil. So I went to the H-Town Watchmen and asked for their help in finding you.”

Color me impressed. I had the Watchers out looking for me, the premier superhero team in Houston.

I must have looked astonished because Kent grimaced again. “Yeah well that didn’t go as well as I could have wished. Most of the Watchers were out fighting the Vicar and his men when I came in. I don’t have that good of a rep so they weren’t inclined to give all that much help. Their magic girl, Cardshark, at least gave me a charm that would lead me to you and they said they would come help once things cooled down.”

“Charm?” I asked

“I have it righ…uh, I had it in my pants, which I no longer have.” he said looking down at his yellow ducky boxers.

This reminded me of my own nudity and the chains clinked as I reflexively tried to cover myself. I looked down at what I had been hiding from since I was tied to the stone upstairs. A pair of pale mounds on my chest tipped with rosy pink nipples that were bigger than they were supposed to be. I had breasts, they were pretty small but there was no denying it, and there was no denying the other changes in me from the longer hair that seemed to be the same vibrant copper color as my eyes to the soft rounded skin of my arms. I leaned forward slightly to look down at myself. I saw something that a day ago would have made my eyes bug out like a cartoon wolf at a show. Now it just made me want to hurl. Below the breasts was a slim waist and flat stomach that flared out into slim but noticeable hips with long elegant legs. All of this without an ounce of spare fat on it. I braced myself and looked there. Yep, little Adam and his two friends were gone, all I could see was a sparse patch of copper hair.

“Can you tell me what happened?” said Kent in a gentle, kindly tone. The kind of tone you would use with a small and frightened child.

“I don’t know,” I said, a tear running down my cheek. “They tied me to that rock and were having some kind of ceremony, the Ceremony of Transformation BD called it.”

“BD?”

“It’s what I call the guy that was screaming orders when you came in, the guy that snuck up behind you and choked you out. It stands for Bathrobe Dude, since, you know, he is like, wearing a bathrobe,” I explained. Kent gave a small snort of amusement.

“Anyway they tied me down and did a lot of chanting and other weird things, and BD took some of my blood and did more weird things and suddenly I was feeling this intense pain in my stomach. Then I felt myself changing and just… it was weird, all kinds of weird sensations, mostly unpleasant. BD had said something about changing my body earlier so I would be fit for his son to take over, but I think something went wrong because right before you showed up he was yelling and really angry at one guy. He was saying that this guy ruined this ceremony, and then you came in.”

“And I made a right pig’s ear of the whole rescue thing. It sounds like these guys cast some kind of magic on you but what one magic can do another can undo some times.”

I looked at him, willing to be reassured. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, with all the different people with different powers out in the world there has to be a way to fix this. It’s not like there is a law about it or anything.”

“Maybe but we have to get out of here first. Can’t you use your power to break these chains or something?”

“No, I need some time to clear my head I’m still kind of groggy. Give me a few minutes and then I’ll give it a try,” he said with a wince.

“You’re a mutant right?”

“Yes.”

“So what is your super power? Is it some kind of musical magic?” I asked.

Kent looked at the door and lowered his voice before answering. “That’s as good an explanation as any. No one is really sure what my power is. I’ve been classified as a Warper 4r or wiz 3 or TK 4 even an energizer 3,” he said.

“What does all that mean?” I asked confused by all the codes and numbers.

“Sorry, I forgot your new to all this. A warper is someone who warpes or changes physical reality. Wiz is pretty obvious; it’s a wizard, someone who does magic. TK is telekinesis, which is basically moving things with your mind. Energizer is who does something with energy, like shooting lightning bolts. The numbers are how powerful it is. It goes from one to seven, seven being the most powerful.”

“So what do you do exactly?” I asked.

He gave a kind of shrug. “I make things happen when I sing and play music together.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well things like when I came in to rescue you I made it so I could hit hard and take hits I normally wouldn’t be able too. Then I made a burst of force hit that bug thing and finally I made myself ten times stronger to choke it.”

“Why didn’t you just make everyone fall asleep or something?”

“I’m not powerful enough to do something like that. There are limits to what I can do. I could put people to sleep but they would all have to be tired for it to work. With those cult guys high on adrenaline from doing their ritual there wasn’t a chance of that working,” Kent explained.

“What about your powers, that’s the original reason I came down to Texas. Your mother called and said you started manifesting. Can you do anything that might help us get out of here?” he asked.

In all the excitement I had almost forgotten about my incipient mutanthood until Kent reminded me. Geez, was it only yesterday that weird stuff started happening? It felt like it had been longer. “I’m not sure what I can do with my powers. At least I haven’t been able to do anything on purpose.” I said biting my lip.

“Why don’t you tell me what has been happening and maybe we can figure it out together,” said Kent.

“I guess it started last night, that’s when my eyes started glowing. Is that common for mutants? I mean your eyes look almost exactly like mine, just less copper colored and more golden.”

My question seemed to panic him for some reason though he hid it well and played it casual. “It’s not all that common but it does happen. I’ve meet a few other people with glowing eyes. Have you noticed anything else strange happening?”

“I was chased around by a giant mud man before I got kidnapped,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows at that “Really? How did that happen? Do you think you did it or could it have been something these cult people did?”

“I think it might have been something I did,” I said a bit sheepishly. I then explained about drawing in the mud and the mud man forming with that on its forehead. “Harvard saved me from it, he jumped up and bite it where the little picture was and it collapsed back into mud. H-He tried to save me when we got home to,” I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Damn crying it was really getting old. “I think they killed him. Was he there when you showed up?” I asked daring to hope.

“I didn’t see any dog when I was there,” he hesitated “But there was a lot of blood on the floor. I’m sorry I don’t know what happened to him.”

For about two seconds I told myself I had done enough crying for today, then I said fuck that, he deserves some tears.

Kent let my cry in silence but it wasn’t long before we heard steps coming again down the hallway.

“Can’t give us any peace can they.” Muttered Kent.

The door was slammed open and BD strode in like he owned the place leaving a couple cult members at the door. Okay he did own the place but that’s no reason for acting like a dick. He was calmer than he had been in the grand hall. I guess whatever mental imbalance had affected him had settled back down; at least until something set him off again.

He turned his haughty gaze on the two of us, me with my eyes red ringed from crying and Kent sitting up in the uncomfortable position the chains held him to. He stepped forward and kicked Kent back onto his side.

“Getting along well are we? Of course you are, who doesn’t like spending time with a pretty naked girl? And my aren’t you the pretty one.”

I felt myself blushing as his leering gaze lingered on me. “Despite the mistake that led to your current condition I have to admit that the old man did a good job of focusing on an image, even if it was the wrong one. I would take a turn at you myself if we weren’t in a hurry. Alas I have no time for pleasure.”

“Go shove a pole up your ass, how’s that for pleasure?” I said pissed at him talking about me like that.

“I’m pretty sure he already has one up there Adam, how else could a worm be standing upright?” chipped in Kent.

“Quiet,” said BD, casually kicking Kent in the small of his back so he grunted in pain. “I have more important things to do than to listen to you. Now hold still girl this will only hurt a little bit.”

BD reached over and grabbed me around the head with both hands and a jolt of pure agony shot through me. It was like my brain was on fire and freezing at the same time. It seemed to go one for ages tell he finally removed his hands. I hung limply in the chains feeling nauseous. Damn liar.

“It is just as I suspected the transformation spell has contracted and formed a shell matrix inside the body. It will take me months to find a way to undo this. Well there is no hope for it; I must go on with the ceremony of embodiment as she is, the changes that make her body capable of surviving the ceremony seemed to have worked at least.” BD said to himself.

BD signaled peremptorily to the two cultists to unchain me and to follow him.

“What about the man?” asked one of them.

“Take him as well, I will be hungry after the ceremony and he will do nicely for a snack,” said BD seeming pleased with the idea.

So it was back up to the great hall. The second time wasn’t any more fun than the first one. In the great hall most of the cultists had been reassembled, though they seemed a bit jittery. Having super powered people break in and pound on you can probably upset the tranquility of any gathering. Most were milling about talking to each other but some of them were working at chopping up the bug monster off to one side. I guess it wouldn’t fit through the door, BD must have never thought about that when he made it or summoned it or whatever.

They started pushing and shoving me back towards the altar stone but I wasn’t having any of that. I pretended to stumble and then elbowed the cultist to my left in the side. I tried to make a run for it but there were other cultists that started gathering around to stop me. As I was looking for a way to escape someone got behind me and grabbed my arms. I struggled in his grip but couldn’t break it. What the hell? I felt like a child in the guy’s grip. No I realized, I felt like a 15 year old girl being held by an older man. And not one of those athletic 15 year old girls either. This really pissed me off but there was nothing I could do besides curse as the tied me back down on the altar.

Kent surprisingly didn’t put of much of a fight. He let himself be led a few yards from the altar and be chained again. Just before they made him get on the ground so they could have his hands close to his feet he winked at me. I felt some hope. Maybe Kent had a plan for getting out of this mess? I sure hoped so because I was completely out of them.

BD clapped his hands together over his head calling for those in the hall to quiet down and listen to him.

“My dear fellow followers of Cochul’relk’thultul it is the time we have all be waiting for. It is the time for the raising of our god! He will take on flesh and walk among us, and his power shall lead us to great things! Those who have laughed at you will learn the true cost of their actions!” BD shouted to the gathers believers.

This speech was greeted with yells of “Yes!” and “Now is our time!” and somewhere in the back “Down with all evil vegetable shop owners!”

“Despite the unfortunate accident of brother Cunningham we will go on with our work. And we must not forget that even with his miserable failure in the ceremony brother Cunningham still died to protect as all from an assault by those who would thwart us. In the end he died a hero and we should remember him for that.”

“You have got to be kidding me? Is this guy for real? I mean we had to have all see how he …aurgh.” I started before one of the cultists who were clustered around me shoved what had to be someone’s dirty sock into my mouth. “Uah goaw! Ehis uis duscusing. Whem I ged oud of here I’n gowing ou shouve ehis soawk down yuer droght!” I mumbled incoherently.

“While our god might not have the fearsome visage it is supposed to, do not let that trouble you, in due time will it take on its proper shape and form,” The gathered cultists seemed to be okay with this. If you couldn’t have a cool monster of the night for you dark god having a hot chick in its place wasn’t that bad.

“Now brothers let us commence with the ceremony that will bring our god into the flesh! The world shall be ours!” this was met with a round of cheers.

The cultists hurried to their positions and after a little discussion of who was supposed to stand where they got the ceremony under way. Just like last time it started with a rhythmic chant. It started low as if everyone was whispering at first but swelled until it filled the huge room. Rites were performed that were unspeakable. And when I say unspeakable I mean I sure as hell won’t be talking about them. I don’t even want to think about them.

BD raised his hands and started to intone in some strange and horrible language that had the same effect to the mind that nail on a chalk board had on the ears and in my mind ran a constant litany of oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die! Above me the air seemed to swim as unseen forces put pressure on the very fabric of reality. Space didn’t rip open as much as it seemed to be eaten away leaving a hole into some other reality, and out of that hole squeezed the abomination that I had only glimpsed earlier, the thing BD called his son. It was worse the second time I saw it. The tentacles seemed more tentacley, the many eyes seemed more mad and blood shot, the teeth seemed bigger and much more keen to rip into flesh. I closed my eyes hoping to God that there was a God and that he would save me from something that by all rights ought not to exist.

“Finally, finally I can enter the physical plane!” the deep madness inducing voice throbbed through my skull like someone had hit it with a hammer.

Then I heard a new sound, a blessedly sane sound that for a moment I thought was God answering my prayers but…God didn’t play the guitar did he? I opened my eyes and turned my head away from the abomination to see Kent still lying on the floor next to me and beyond him, left against the wall of the grand hall his guitar was playing by itself. Then Kent opened his mouth and began to sing.

There was a rumble like thunder in the distance and Kent flexed his hands snapping the restraints. He started to rush towards BD and my heart filled with hope but BD made a gesture with one hand and a section of the gathered cultists pulled out guns and began filling Kent’s body with holes.

Kent fell to his knees, looked down in astonishment at the blood running from his abdomen, then toppled to the side. I couldn’t believe it, one minute he was full of life, the next he is nothing but a pile of meat that had once been human. It shouldn’t work like that I thought to myself, the hero is supposed to save the day, not get gunned down.

This was the end, all hope of rescue was gone and some kind of demon was going to possess my body and force out my soul. I closed my eyes. I had to wonder what I had done to deserve something like this happening to me. I had never been a trouble maker. I got good grades. Yes, I teased my sister but that was really a game we were playing with each other. I had never gotten drunk or smoked anything. Why me? Why did something like this have to happen to me? Wasn’t there any fairness in the world? What about all the things I had yet to do? I had never gotten a chance to tell Brook how much I liked her. Had I told my parents that I loved them last night?

I didn’t think I would ever get the answers to my questions but then wasn’t that pretty much what life was like? Supposedly you got all the answers after you died. Which I felt was about as useful as someone telling you the lotto numbers after the game was already over. I sighed. God if you really do exist can you do me a favor, I know I am going to die but could you at least not let BD get my soul, I don’t think I would like it if my everlasting spirit was consumed by that sociopath.

-NO!-

My eyes opened in shock as I heard a voice in my head. Had God just spoken to me? Holy shi- Uh, sorry God, holy shoot, he sounded pissed. I briefly wondered what I had done to make him so angry but that thought was driven out of my head as my eyes locked back on the Thing above me. It grew larger in my vision and much to my horror I started feeling a strange connection forming with it. It felt like sewage was being run through my mind and out over my body. I was shaking with the feeling. I would give anything for it to stop and I knew that this was only the beginning and much worse was to come.

Suddenly my view of the abomination was cut off by a mass of brown fur. There was a howl of pain or anger, I couldn’t tell which, and a blinding flash of light. I felt a weight fall on top of me and suddenly knew no more.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 6
 

The world started coming back to me in fits and starts, and I had decided that I was getting pretty tired of these forced vacations from reality. I got through most of my life without losing consciousness, but the last day or so was really bucking the norm. It felt like there was a weight on my chest holding me down, and my head hurt too much to open my eyes, so I just lay there waiting for the world to make sense.

“…Some of them made it out through those damn tunnels before we could block them all. I saw three cars going west on an old dirt road and let Racer know so he and Quickshine could head them off. I caught three of them hoofing it out of here and took care of them. They are about a half mile from here tied around a tree. My little friends are checking the rest of the area and will let me know if they find anyone else,” said a deep voice.

“Good work Birdseye, I’m glad we had you along this time or we would never have had a chance of finding them once they scattered. Hey CardShark, how is Mr. Rock Star doing?” This voice had a distinct Spanish accent to it and had the tone of assumed authority.

“I am doing fine Arturo; I would be doing even better if you had gotten off your damn ass when I first asked for help,” said a weak voice that almost sounded like Kent. But that couldn’t be right, Kent was dead. I had seen great holes blown in him with my own eyes.

“It was more important that we remained in place to back up the rest of the team while they fought the Vicar. We gave what assistance we could and we came once the Vicar had managed to escape,” said the Spanish voice that had been called Arturo.

“That’s a damn excuse and you know it!”

“To hell it is, I wasn’t going to put the team at risk on what might have been just some fucking mind trip you were on after one of your binges,” said Arturo with a thick layer of contempt.

“I’ve been clean for four years, you son of a bitch; don’t try that crap on me. You have had it in for me ever since Whateley, and you were overjoyed to have a chance to screw me over. Some hero you are. I bet the only reason you are out here now is that your mage told Sergeant Earth Mover I had showed up. I’m sure it would have slipped your mind if you had been the only one that knew.”

There was the sound of a door opening, and a new voice overrode whatever Arturo was about to say.

“I think that is enough out of both of you,” said a voice of real authority. “We came to help as soon as we could, Mr. Kent, and we were lucky enough to show up in time, it seems. It was tricky there for a bit when we lost the signal from the card Cardshark gave you. What happened to it anyway?”

“The card got eaten by some kind of acid along with my pants.”

“Ah that explains you only wearing yellow ducky boxers. I had been wondering if this cult had been trying some kind of horrible rite on you,” the voice said with amusement.

Kent snorted weakly but then grew sober. “They were doing enough horrible rites as it was. How is Adam? Is she alright?”

“That the girls name? Kind of unusual. I thought it was a boy you were here for. How is she, Cardshark?”

“As far as I can tell, she is okay, but the dog won’t let me get close to her, so I don’t know for sure,” said a female voice.

Dog?

“Harvard?” I said weakly. The weight on my chest moved slightly, and I felt a wet tongue run up my face. I opened my eyes and I was greeted with the sight of my dog’s large brown face grinning at me.

“Adam, are you alright?” said Kent, stumbling over to me. He looked a mess; he was covered in blood, and his shirt had holes all through it. His face was pale and drawn, and he looked like he had been sick for a month.

“You’re not dead?” I said in a blank tone.

“Nope, rock and roll saved me again.”

“But I saw you get shot about a hundred times!”

“Nah, couldn’t have been more than a half dozen. When I was singing my powers up I made sure to add some regen. I’m just lucky they missed any vital organs. That would probably have taken me out for good. As it was, it was pretty close; without Cardshark here I would have been a goner,” said Kent in a casual tone that was belied by the faint trimmer in it. “But enough about me, are you all right?”

“Uhm, yeah I guess so. What happened? Where did these guys come from? The last thing I remember was that thing right above me, then what I guess must have been Harvard, then nothing. What in the world is my dog doing here?” I said rubbing the ears of the oversized mutt that was half lying on top of me. I shifted my weight and got my dog to move off me so I could get up. I didn’t want to spend any more time on that alter and besides, it didn’t feel right to be talking to the leader of the Watchers, Sergeant Earth Mover, for that’s who the authoritative voice belonged to, while lying on my back. Despite everything, getting to meet the premier Houston super hero team was just cool, and my sister and Brook were going to turn green with envy. I wondered if I could get them to take a picture with me.

“You don’t know? Didn’t the dog get taken up here with you or something?” asked a tall woman in a costume that was part robe, part combat armor in the brown and black colors of the Watchers.

“No, at least, I never saw him while I was here,” I said, mystified.

“Huh, add another mystery to the list. But I have to admit, we would be looking at a much different situation if it wasn’t for that dog,” said the Sergeant.

“And you were the one that just knew that the dog had to be a trap,” said Cardshark, ribbing her leader a little.

“Okay I admit you were right this time about the dog, but really, the whole Lassie routine? That’s so clichéd that it almost has to be a trap.”

“You’re just a cynic.”

“I’m guessing there’s a story here?” asked Kent.

“Like we touched on earlier, the card we gave you to find Adam had its own tracking spell so we could find it,” said Cardshark. “We were almost to this dump when it stopped working. This place is buried underground and quite hard to find from the surface, so we weren’t having an easy time finding where you were. Then out of nowhere there was this dog doing the whole ‘come help, Billy is trapped down a well’ thing. The boss here just knew it was a trap or some kind of distraction, but since we didn’t have any better idea we followed it. The dog lead us right to the front door of this place.”

I looked at my dog, who just doggie grinned at me. I wasn’t one to look a gift dog in the mouth, but there had to be something going on here. I looked around at the room and noticed a number of dead or unconscious cultists lying around, as well as three more of those insect crab things. Well, I think it was three, it might have been four since one of them was kind of scattered all over the room. There also looked to be blasts and gunfire marking the walls, and around one of the monsters, the stone floor was gaping open and half consuming it.

When my eyes got back to the people in the room, I became uncomfortably aware of my nudity. Arturo, who I know from plenty of news reports went by Sobrehumano, was staring at me with hungry eyes. This really creeped me out and brought back the awareness of what had been done to me.

Cardshark must have noticed my unease because she casually stripped one of the cultists lying on the floor and gave me this mystic robe to wear. I was thankful that this one seemed to have come from one of the cultists that were only unconscious. I would really have hated to wear something someone had died in.

“So y’all found the entrance; what happened after that?” I asked.

“We busted it in and kicked some ass!” said Cardshark.

The Sergeant snorted. “We were a bit more disciplined than that. We had Steelfist ‘knock’ on the front door while I used my power to open a passage into the place from another direction. But for all my worrying, it really didn’t turn out to be a trap. They had a number of guards at the door, including some kind of mystic or psychic fungus right inside the opening. We took care of the opposition and started making our way down to where all the noise was coming from. As soon as we had made a way in, that dog left us behind. He was on a real mission. Haven’t seen a dog move like that since my beagle got too old to run after squirrels. When we got down here, your dog had just jumped up on top of you. I guessing he must have upset something because everything seemed to go to hell even before they noticed us.”

“He sure did!” said Cardshark excitedly. “From what I can piece together from the residue of magical energy, this cult was trying to summon down a demon or devil to possess you, Adam, when that dog jumped in the way of it! There was a horrible flash of blackness and a wailing sound. When the light was back, the whatever it was had gone and everyone gathered here began to panic. Then they saw us and really started to panic. One of the guys in more elaborate robes than the others killed a few of his own men, shoved something into them, and out pops these monsters.

“That sounds like Bathrobe Dude; he used the same tactic when I got here. I dealt with the monster, but BD got me when I was distracted.”

“Bathrobe Dude?” asked Cardshark, raising an eyebrow.

“Our private name for the leader of this insane asylum; he really goes by Whippoorwill, but since he is always in a robe…” said Kent as he turned over cultists, looking for one that was about his size. I guess he felt uncomfortable standing around in his underwear.

“Ah, I see,” said the Sergeant grinning. “Too bad we didn’t find him here after the dust cleared; I would like to have a few words with him.”

“I have to warn you, though, he is some kind of mutant, I think. At least he has powers. What the extent of those powers are, I don’t know,” said Kent.

“He said he steals souls when he was monologuing at me earlier,” I added.

“Sarge, I want to get both Adam and this dog back to the base to run some tests on. I’m not sure what kind of magic they were performing but since Adam was the focus of it and the dog got in the way they might both be in danger, or be a danger to others.”

“Good thinking Cardshark, have Steelfist fly you back in his toy. We’ll take care of things here until the police show up,” he sighed, then added, “And I better get started on the paperwork. Damn stuff, even more of it than I had in the military.”

“I’ll help you out, Sergeant, if you want,” said Arturo, seemingly causal.

“Good man,” said the Sergeant in a jocular way. “That’s what I keep you around for.”

Cardshark lead me, Kent, and my dog over to one of the doorways on the far wall after Kent had picked up his guitar from where it was still lying in the corner. I eyed it speculatively; it had done some weird things since Kent had showed up. I didn’t know if that was Kent’s doing or if there was something special about that guitar. I would have to ask Kent about it later.

I had some difficulty following, since the robe I was wearing was overly long on my body and I had to gather in handfuls of it at my waist in order not to have my feet tripped up. Even after that, I had trouble; my balance seemed to be off. It seemed that everything moved differently, from my gait, to, very disconcertingly, my hips swaying, and even more disconcerting were the jiggling masses on my chest. Every step I took, they moved. I tried not to think about it. Too much had happened in too short a time and my brain felt like it was in overload.

Once we were out of earshot, Cardshark snorted with laughter or disgust; it was hard to tell.

“Sarge wasn’t joking when he said that was what he kept Sobrehumano around for. He always uses him to avoid paperwork.”

“Why does Sobrehumano want to do it? I would think the reports would be pretty boring to fill out,” I said.

“Probably has something to do with his ego,” said Kent, while rolling his eyes.

“Got it in one. The news media gets all the paperwork about whatever happens from the police and use it to write up their articles and news reports. So by filling them out, Sobrehumano gets the chance to write himself as the hero,” said Cardshark.

“Nothing I wouldn’t expect from him,” said Kent.

Cardshark looked at Kent and me quizzically. “I know for a fact that when you came asking for help that you were looking for a boy named Adam. The Sarge might overlook that fact, though I doubt it, but I won’t. What happened?”

Kent looked at me, clearly letting me take the lead on this matter.

“They did something to me to make me this way. Some kind of ceremony or something.” I looked at her with hope. Kent had said that since magic did this that magic might be able to undo it, and Cardshark, while young, was supposed to be pretty good at magic. “Can you change me back?”

Cardshark stopped and looked at me appraisingly. “I don’t know; my specialty isn’t transformational magic, so I’m not sure what to do. I have heard about a few spells that can do something like that. And I think I remember some old stories about Native Americans who would trade their masculinity for power. I would really have to get you back to the base and my workshop before I would know for sure if I can help.”

I was disappointed with her answer. Well, just saying I was disappointed is a bit of an understatement. Saying I was royally and totally depressed by her answer would fit better. I tried my best not to cry and instead focused on blocking all thoughts about what had happened to me out of my mind.

“Before we go any further, I need to do a little magic on you and your dog, Harvard, wasn’t it? It a kind of binding that will keep any kind of evil spirit that is in you 'asleep', as it were. It’s just a precaution, since I am pretty sure that whatever they were summoning down into you went back to wherever it had come from when the magic failed.”

“You think I might be possessed?” I squeaked in a high girly way.

“No, like I said, it’s just a precaution. Possessions that get interrupted almost always fail.”

She pulled out a card from one of the two large worked leather pockets she had on her belt and held it up before her eyes. I couldn’t see what was on the front but the side facing me had a large ornate letter ‘C’ on it. With a whisper of words and a flick of her wrist the card disappeared in a puff of bluish smoke. I felt a warm sensation flow over and seem to settle into me. I shivered, and beside me Harvard did the same before he reached up with one hind leg and scratched at his collar, causing it to jingle noisily.

“There, that wasn’t all that bad,” said Cardshark with a smile. “Now we can go on, and you can see Steelfist’s toy. Make sure to ooh and aah at it and Steelfist will be your friend for life.”

We walked the rest of the way up out of the maze of tunnels and chambers in silence. I think the others felt how upset I was about the whole being a girl thing and didn’t know what to say. I was relieved when we finally got to the wide open doors leading to the outside. The tunnels had felt oppressive, and the occasional body of some cult member or monster really didn’t do much for the atmosphere either.

We were met at the door by a huge black man that looked like he came straight out of a calendar titled ‘Military Hunks of the Month’. He was wearing a black and brown cameo that left his arms from shoulder to wrist bare. On his hands were a pair of thick gloves that looked to be made out of liquid chrome with black technological looking bands around the wrists. These were the famous steel gauntlets of Steelfist the Devisor. With these gauntlets, his punches had as much force as any Brick superhero.

“Look like someone is ducking out of the after-action work,” said Steelfist, grinning at Cardshark.

“And it looks like someone else is also getting out of the grunt work so he can fly his toy around,” she said, grinning back at him. “This is Adam, Kent, and the dog is Harvard.”

Steelfist looked at Kent with a big grin and shook his hand. “Wow, it’s great to meet you; my kid is going to be so jealous when I tell him.” He seemed reluctant to let go of Kent’s hand until a bark from Harvard distracted him. “And it’s good to see you again, too, Harvard.”

Harvard raised his paw, and Steelfist dutifully shook it. My dog is such an attention hog. I had to wonder what was up with Kent though; was he someone famous? I didn’t remember any heroes that looked like him or had his power. That was something I was going to have to check into. But not now, now something far cooler was going to happen. I was going to get to fly on a helicopter, and not just any helicopter, I saw, but a heavily modified Black Hawk! Brook and my other friends were going to have to listen to me bragging about this for a long time to come.

Cardshark helped Kent and I get strapped down in the back of the helicopter while Steelfist went through the pre-flight checklist. They didn’t really have a way to strap down Harvard, so I just had him lay down by my feet. When the engine started, I could feel it deep in my chest, the thrumming starting a sympathetic racing of my heart. The doors were slammed shut, and blades started to swoosh though the air. I heard Steelfist asking for clearance and telling his flight plan over the headphones we were all wearing, and suddenly we were lifting off into the air!

Flying in a helicopter is a little different from flying in a plane, at least, flying in this helicopter was. For one thing, the take-off was like being on a roller-coaster; you have the same feeling in the pit of your stomach. Also, it was loud! The headphones we were wearing blocked some of the noise, but it still sounded like we were in the middle of some industrial equipment going full force. I had my face plastered against the left side window, and I saw the cedar dotted clearing the Black Hawk had been landed in get smaller as we went up. It was impossible to see the entrance we had come out of from up here. All I could see was hill country for miles around.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“We are a ways west of Austin, in the middle of God damn nowhere! If it wasn’t for that dog, we would never have found this place!”

-Finding it was easy.-

“I thought you said it was hard to find the place?” I said.

“I did!”

“Then why did you…never mind, it must have just been static.”

It took more than an hour to fly from the cult’s hideout to the Watchers base. I loved every minute of it. I don’t know how fast most helicopters go, but Steelfist’s must have been going hundreds of miles an hour.

During this time, Cardshark quizzed me about what happened. She had me start with when I first manifested signs of being a mutant, and then went all the way through the kidnapping and consecutive ceremonies of the cultists. Steelfist would interrupt with a question of his own now and then, and I got a little break from talking when they asked Kent what he knew. Just as we were finishing up, we arrived at our destination.

The Watchers base wasn’t much to look at from the air; it looked like an extra-large tree covered hill had sprung up in the middle of nowhere and someone had put a thirty foot thick wall around it and a big fat square building on the top of it.

“Watcher one, this is Watcher seven requesting clearance for landing with two Watchers, two passengers…and a dog,” said Steelfist.

I heard a female voice from my headphones saying “Watcher seven, please state today’s password.”

“Watcher one, today’s password is…” static erupted over the intercom, and I didn’t catch the rest of what was said.

“Welcome home, Watcher seven, you are cleared for landing.”

The helicopter was maneuvered over to the top of the building, which I could now see must be some kind of landing zone. The touchdown was smooth, and the engine and blades wound down until they came to a stop and everything was silent. I expected us to get out then, but Steelfist didn’t make a move, so I stayed still. There was a lurch, and suddenly I felt the helicopter going down. I looked out the window and saw that the area the helicopter had landed on was moving into the ground like it was a giant elevator. Of course that’s what it actually was, a giant elevator.

We went down for a couple stories before the shaft we were in opened out into a large cavernous space. There were a number of bays around the side of the chamber; some had large roll up doors blocking them from sight, but some were open, and I could see a number of other helicopters and other strange things that might have been vehicles of some kind.

We settled on the ground with a solid ‘clunk’ of machinery locking into place. Steelfist took off his headphones and started unbuckling from his seat.

“We’re here, guys, welcome to the home of the H-Town Watchmen,” said Steelfist.

My dog got up from between my legs and did his usual stretching of forelegs then hind legs before doggie grinning at me and wagging his tail. He at least seemed to be glad to be done with the fight. I was able to unstrap myself from the seat while Cardshark was helping out Kent. I don’t think Kent actually needed any help, but Cardshark didn’t give him a chance. I was definitely sensing some interest in Kent coming from Cardshark. Kent, if anything, seemed to be a bit uncomfortable with it.

The door on the side of the helicopter was opened by a man in grease-stained overalls who gestured for us to get out.

“You didn’t damage my black hawk this time did you Steelfist?” he asked in a gruff manner as we all got out of the helicopter.

“No, your helicopter is fine. It was pretty much transport only this time,” said a grinning Steelfist.

“Come on guys, let see about getting you two something else to wear besides those damn silly robes,” said Cardshark, leading them to a more traditional elevator where she placed her hand on a scanner, which after a few beeps and boops opened the doors.

“I thought it was your helicopter, Steelfist?” I asked while we were heading down again in another elevator.

“Ah, that brings up an age old question, who really owns a vehicle. Is it the one who builds it, or the one who maintains it, or the one who flies it?”

“Since you're two out of three of those, shouldn’t you win?” asked Kent.

“He tried using that way of looking at it once with old Scott. Scott told him he could do the maintenance himself if he really thought that was how it worked,” said Cardshark with a chuckle.

Steelfist put on a mournful expression. “I might be a great devisor, but nothing bores me more than doing maintainance on something that is already complete. So I’m stuck putting up with Scott’s comments,”

When we got out of the elevator, we divided, with Kent and Steelfist going one way, and Cardshark and I going another. The hallway she led me down didn’t really fit my idea of what a secret base should look like. It didn’t look like it came out of a spaceship, nor did it look like some kind of dungeon; instead it looked like a hallway you would find in any suburban house in America. The walls were textured and painted a beige color, and the floor was carpeted in a light gray. The only real difference was the lack of windows.

“We really aren’t that close in size, you’re a lot skinnier than me and a bit shorter, but I have some old sweats that you can wear if you pull the drawstring tight. And here is my room; don’t mind the mess, it’s always like that.”

Cardshark’s room was indeed messy, but since my room back home could have put this one to shame for sheer untidiness, I didn’t say anything. She started rooting around in the closet while I stood there and waited, unsure what to say or do.

“Uh, so do you live here? I thought that superheroes were supposed to have secret identities?” I said, grasping for something to fill the silence.

Cardshark came back out with some gray sweatpants and a T-shirt in her hands as well as a pair of sandals. “Some of us Watchers live here, but some of us don’t. I got a small apartment in Houston for when I want to be normal, but I mostly live here,” she said.

She handed me the pants and shirt, and I looked at them. The sweats looked like any other pair of sweats I had seen before, but the shirt was baby blue. I looked at the shirt with some distrust. I had worn shirts that color before, it wasn’t like it was pink or anything, but it just looked so girly. It was so much smaller than any shirt I had worn since I was 10.

“Well, go ahead and put them on,” said Cardshark.

I hesitated again. “Uh, can you turn around or something?” I asked.

“You don’t really have anything I haven’t seen before, but if it will make you feel better...” she turned her back to me but continued, “Still I got a better room here than some of the Footies do. Unless you got some rank, you end up bunking up in the barracks with a dozen others while you’re on rotation here.”

“Footies?” I asked, delaying for a moment.

“That’s the nick name for the ex-military that works here; its short for foot-soldiers. It’s what they call themselves, so don’t think I’m insulting them. Can’t really run a base or team this size without auxiliary troops doing some of the grunt work to get things done. A lot of them are old friends of the Sergeant from back in his military days.”

Finally, I got out of the robe and stood there in the altogether. There was nothing for it; I had to put the clothes on.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Cardshark reached back into the closet. “You need these; can’t have you running around without any underwear now can we? You’re lucky I still have these; they are from back when I was much thinner, they were my favorite pair.” She handed me a pair of lacy white panties that felt like silk when she gave them to me. “Don’t worry, they are clean.”

The horror that she offered me shocked me so much that I didn’t even squawk about her seeing me undressed. She wanted me to wear lacy silk panties? Dear god, what had I done to deserve this? She looked at my face, which was probably bugged out in horror.

“I know this isn’t what you are used to, but you can’t run around without any underwear on. So grit your teeth and just bear with it; it’s really not all that bad,” she said.

Was that a glint of amusement in her eyes? Augh! So I did what she said and gritted my teeth. Don’t let it be said that Adam Oakson panicked in the face of adversity. Okay, maybe I did a little, but I overcame it!

I stepped into the little lacy things and pulled them up. Let me tell you, panties don’t feel anything like the boxer brief underwear I had been used to wearing; for one thing, they felt cold and smooth against my skin. I guess that should be expected with silk. For another, they were tight against me. Not tight like they were a size too small, but tight in how they clung to every contour of me. Okay, I’m not going to think about what those contours are. And if I ever hear a guy talking about how if he turned into a girl he would waste no time going and playing with himself, I will punch him. Being in a body not your own with no idea if things can be reversed makes the idea of doing anything with those new body parts, even just looking at them, turn your stomach.

“There, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” said Cardshark.

I just glowered at her and put on the sweatpants. That was a lot easier; it was a lot like putting on any pair of pants. Putting on the shirt was another trial, though a lesser one. With boys' T-shirts, they are made to be loose on you. Unless you are one of those jocks that likes to show off his muscles. They don’t hug your figure like girls' do. It made my breasts very noticeable to me. They might not have been very big, but since I was used to none, even that small amount seemed huge to me.

“You really should wear a bra, but I don’t have any that would fit you. Hang on a sec, one of these will help you keep your hair out of your eyes,” she said, handing me one of those scrunchy things girls wear. I tried getting my now longish copper hair into the thing, but after a few tries Cardshark took pity on me and did it herself.

Looking suitably presentable, uargh, we left to meet back up with Steelfist and Kent. We had to go back up a couple levels on the elevator (what is with all the elevators anyway?) to get to some kind of lab, though not the Bunsen burner and petri dish kind. This was the kind that had a pentagram inlaid in silver in the floor and shelves filled row after row with different sized glass bottles. I swear that one of them might have been labeled ‘eye of newt’.

Kent, who was wearing some kind of running pants and an oversized t-shirt emblazed with the words ‘Wise’ in bold blue letters with a picture of a donkey under it, smiled at me and told me I looked nice.

I glowered at him, I did not want to look nice, I wanted to look like a rather awkward sixteen year old boy. My dog, who had been patently following me up until now, grinned and hit me with his tail, obviously agreeing with Kent. I glowered at him too.

“I, uh, called your father,” said Kent awkwardly, “And told him about what happened. He is on his way with your mother and sister. The hospital said your mother was okay, even if they would have liked to keep her overnight for observation.”

“You told them about what happened to me?”

“Yes, your father said that they could deal with anything just as long as you were safe.”

My eyes welled up with tears. I felt relief hearing that my folks were on the way. It was like a weight had been lifted off of me. I felt that, somehow, when they got here, everything would be okay.

Cardshark put her arm around me, “Let’s see what my tests find out about your condition; who knows, maybe we can have this fixed before they even get here.”

I nodded, feeling a little hope. First, she had me stand in the center of the pentagram while she shuffled though a deck of cards. She must have found one that she liked because she held it up at eye level and seemed to concentrate on it.

“What is that?” I asked, but she waved me to silence. After a moment, she sighed and let the card fall. Before it hit the ground, it turned into smoke and slowly dissipated.

“That was me trying to use my divination card to see what the magic had done to you.”

“So what did you divination card tell you?”

“W-ell this card is for stuff I can do while on a mission, so mostly what it tells me is that I need to try some more involved magics in order to get a better picture of everything.”

Was that a look of uncertainty in her eyes? Did her bearing seem a little stressed? Maybe I was just looking too hard for a reaction and everything was just as she said.

She told me to stay in the pentagram and took different bottles and boxes off the shelves. She went over to a work table and started mixing things while muttering chants under her breath. In just a little while, she was back and had me drink a concoction of some kind of poison. I say it was poison because nothing that wasn’t poison could taste that bad.

I started feeling a little funny, kind of like I was drunk, not that I have ever been drunk of course; it’s not like Brook, me, and the love birds had ever spent an interesting night experimenting or anything. Cardshark then took what was left of the poison in the mixing bowl and smeared it over an ivory wand with which she proceeded to point dramatically at me and yell strange sounding words. With one last forceful gesture and a word that probably had too many consonants in it, there was a flash of light and the feeling of being drunk left me.

“What was that?” I asked, as I blinked my eyes trying to clear the sparkles from in front of them.

When I could see again, I saw Cardshark on the ground, Steelfist supporting her.

“It’s okay, she just overdid it in the magic department, she’ll come around in a moment or two,” said Steelfist.

It was just as he said; in a moment, she was stirring again. She clutched at her head and moaned.

“Goddess that hurts! It feels like my brain has gone skydiving without a parachute!”

“It’s okay, Cardshark, your brain is too soft for a landing to do any real damage,” teased Steelfist.

“Humph.” She got up and rubbed the bridge of her nose between two fingers. “I have good news, and I have bad news. Which do you want to hear first, Adam?”

“Uh, the good news?”

“Well, the good news is you are not possessed by any evil entity nor have any malign influences on you from that final ceremony.”

“And the bad news?” I asked, bracing myself.

“The bad news is that it is completely out of my power to fix whatever happened in the first ceremony. The spell, or whatever that did this to you, is still in you and is holding everything the way they are now, and it is way, way outside my skill level to pull out of there.”

I let the news sink in. I wasn’t going to be able to change back; I was stuck as a girl. What was I going to do? I couldn’t go back to school like this; no one would understand. They would all think I was some kind of sexual freak who did this to himself, and those would be the good reactions. The whole H1 crowd would take one look at me and start shouting about evil magic infecting everyone, and that was even without them knowing I was a mutant.

I thought desperately, trying to figure some way out if this. “Kent! Can’t you try using your powers? You said they just make some things happen when you sing about them, can you sing me back into a boy?” I looked pleadingly at him.

He looked uncertain for a moment, but then his jaw firmed with determination “Let’s see what I can do.” He unslung the Guitar from around his back and thought for a moment, then started playing it.

♪To heart and soul his body untrue
Changed by dark forces from what it should be
But there’s hope in the world since nothing’s forever
Undone by the music dark spells can fade♪

My body started feeling weird again, but this time, it wasn’t like I was drunk, it was like every cell in my body was being stretched. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it wasn’t pleasant either. Kent finished singing, and, with an almost audible snap, the stretching sensation stopped. I looked down at myself. Nothing had changed. It was still a girl.

I didn’t even realize I was weeping again until I felt Kent’s strong arms around me.

“I’m so sorry Adam, I wanted to help you, I wanted to be there for you when you needed me.” I felt something warm and wet land on my arm and looked up, Kent was crying too.

“It’s okay, Kent; I know you did your best,” I said, drawing myself up and getting control of myself. “If you can’t do it, then maybe there is someone else who can. I’m not done trying yet; an Oakson doesn’t give up.”

“You know, there is one place that you might be able to get some help,” said Steelfist slowly, sharing a look with Cardshark.

“Where?” I said, jumping on the comment.

“Whateley,” said Cardshark, “You would probably be headed there anyway, what with just manifesting as a mutant. They have some of the best magical arts teachers in the world there. If they can’t help you, I am sure someone has the contacts to bring in someone that can.”

“Is Whateley some kind of magic school?” I asked.

“Whateley is a school for all mutants, not just those with magical powers.”

“A school for mutants, really? Is it run by some bald guy in a wheelchair?”

“No, it’s run by Ms. Carson. You might know her better by her old superhero name of Lady Astarte,” said Kent. “I went there back in the day.”

“We have a packet about it here at the base, since we make sure to help out new mutants in this area. This lab is actually one of the places we use for testing new mutants, among other things, that’s why it’s in the more public section of the base. Let me go get it,” said Steelfist.

“Adam, there is a chance that those at Whateley may be able to help you, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high. It’s not a certainty that they can help you or that it will be an easy or quick fix. You may have to get used to being a girl for a while,” said Cardshark.

I nodded to her to acknowledge that I understood what she said, but a part of me couldn’t do anything else but hope with all it had that someone could fix this. Of course, there was another part of me, a part that really bugs the hell out of me sometimes, that just knew that I would never be cured and I would be stuck this way for the rest of my life.

“While Steelfist is getting those papers, why don’t I check out your dog, to make sure everything is okay with him? He hasn’t acted like anything is wrong, but you can never be too careful.”

Harvard wagged his tail, recognizing that he was being talked about.

“Do you really think something could be wrong with him? I mean, he has been acting perfectly normal so far,” I said, a little worried for my dog. All I needed now was for my dog to die for my life to turn into one of those 'cry a tear in my beer' country songs.

“I think if he was possessed by something or otherwise affected by the dark magic that was going on, I would have detected something by now. That charm I put on him before we left should have notified me of anything happening, and I haven’t gotten so much as a tingle from it,” reassured Cardshark. “Adam, see if you can get him to stand in the center of the pentagram for me.”

I whistled and Harvard trotted over to the pentagram with me. I had him sit in the middle of it and backed out over to where Kent was leaning against a table. Cardshark drew out her card again and held it up at eye level while looking at my dog. She blinked after a moment and looked puzzled.

“That is odd, when I look at your dog through my spell, all I see is him.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Means there is nothing wrong with him right?” I asked.

“No when I look at something living with this spell I am supposed to be able to see all the energies affecting them. I have never seen anything that seemed like it wasn’t connected like this dog is.”

This got me worried; if those bums had done something to my dog, I was gonna, well I was gonna do something, and it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“I guess I will have to do the more advanced spell again,” she said, grimacing. “My head is going to hurt like the blazes tonight.”

-Tell her not to do that.-

I looked over my shoulder for whoever had just entered the room, but there was no one there.

“Where did that voice come from?” I asked, looking around.

“What voice?” asked Kent, looking at me concernedly.

“Someone just said, ‘tell her not to do that’, y’all didn’t hear that?”

Cardshark shook her head. My dog barked, and I looked at him.

-Tell her if she tries the more advanced spell, she might hurt herself.-

Oh. My. God. That voice wasn’t coming from my dog was it? It did have a kind of doggie quality to it and it seemed to be coming from that direction. At least if a soundless voice in your head could be said to have a direction.

“Um, guys I think my dog is talking in my head,” I said a little worriedly, after all, dogs aren’t supposed to be able to talk unless it was to say ‘I rove you’ on Youtube, where they would get millions of views, and, besides, that was out loud.

“What is he saying?” asked Cardshark carefully.

“He said if you try the other spell, you might hurt yourself.”

Cardshark and Kent shared a look.

“Do you think it’s some kind of possession of the dog?” asked Kent.

“It could be. Adam told us that the thing that was supposed to possess him was only half demon, maybe that’s why I didn’t sense anything before.”

“What! You mean that thing that was over me on that stone altar has gotten inside my dog!?!” Oh man, this is worse than the time Harvard got fleas!

-No, I am not a demon; I’m your dog, same as always. There are some things you just don’t know about me.-

“He says he’s not a demon and I don’t know everything about him,” I told the others.

“It’s probably lying trying to keep itself safe. There is no help for it; I have to do the spell. That is the only way we can know what has happened. I’ll need that kind of information if we are going to be able to banish it. If we can’t banish it, we might have to…”

“No!” I said.

“Adam, it might be the only way, we can’t let a demon run around. Even in a dog’s body,” said Kent, eyes full of compassion.

The voice in my head sighed. —Don’t worry, Adam. Let her do what she wants to do. It’s probably the only way to get through this.-

Cardshark did the same kind of rigmarole that she did for testing me. No, you don’t want to know how we got the poison down Harvard’s throat; small children or those of a delicate disposition might read this, and I wouldn’t want to disturb them.

“I thought you agreed to go along with this test!” I said, struggling with my dog.

-Yeah but this stuff tastes horrible! And I should know! I have been eating dog food for years.- My dog said, his ears back in disgust.

Cardshark had just finished the gesturing and chanting part, when suddenly she collapsed in a dead faint. Kent sprang to her side and held her, checking her pulse, then gently slapping her till she woke back up.

“Are you alright?” I asked, kneeling next to the two of them.

She looked a bit blurry eyed, but she nodded her head. “I’m okay, oh man, that was not good.”

“Is my dog…” I asked.

“I don’t know what that dog is!” she said with some awe. “When I ‘saw’ him, it was like nothing I have ever seen before in my life! I was beginning to be totally overcome from seeing him, when he somehow shut himself off from view. If he hadn’t, I don’t know if I would still be here.”

“So the dog is possessed somehow,” said Kent grimly.

“No, he isn’t possessed, I could tell that much from what I saw. He isn’t a demon or anything that is made up of malign energy.”

-I told you it wasn’t a good idea for her to do that.-

“What are you?” I asked my dog.

-I’m Harvard, your buddy- he said in an aggrieved voice, as if I shouldn’t even have to ask.

“But dogs aren’t supposed to be able to talk!” I tried.

-Well,- he said drawing out the word. —I guess you could say I’m a bit more than your typical dog. I’m your familiar.- His tail started wagging like mad, and he left the pentagram to come over and madly lick my face. —This is so great! I can finally start talking to you! I have waited so long for you to start manifesting!

My dog settled back down on his haunches and gave me a soulful look. —First things first, we have got to talk about what I get for dinner.-

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 7
 

It won’t surprise anyone that knows my dog that we were in the small cafeteria that supplied the meals for the Watchers in not too short a time. Even before he could speak into my head, he had his ways of letting it be known that he wanted food, and he wasn’t putting up with any delays. And I have to admit that dinner was growing on my mind as well. I hadn’t eaten since that morning, and it was getting on towards evening as it was. So as soon as Steelfist come back with the school packet, we moved all conversation to where we could get our bellies filled.

The Watchers' cafeteria wasn’t that big when compared to the food factory that was my school's but what it lacked in size, it more than made up for in comfort. It was an odd shaped room with a couple of curved walls and tiled floors. On the far side of the door from us was your standard cafeteria buffet line with glass sneeze guards and a kitchen seen on the other side. There were a number of round tables arranged around the room with comfortable looking chairs, and there were a couple of flat screen TVs on the walls. All and all, the room looked like a place to relax as much as it did someplace to eat.

Cardshark led the way over to the buffet line, and we were met there by a tall, lean man in a spotless white apron who smiled at us.

“Hey Cardshark, how did this last mission go? I heard you came back with some guests,” he said in a thick New York accent while eyeing me and Kent. “And what are you doing bringing a dog into my kitchen? People got ta eat in here.”

“Relax, Reg, the dog is a hero, and plenty of the guys that come in here after a day’s work are dirtier than he could ever get,” said Steelfist.

“That’s true enough. I spend as much time cleaning this joint as I do cooking to feed those slobs. You guys are a little late for dinner; I just got cleaned out. We got a few toasted sandwiches left and a bit of meatloaf as well as some fresh veggies and fruits,” he said while walking around and gathering said food.

It turned out that there were enough sandwiches for Kent, Cardshark, and myself, and Steelfist had the last of the meatloaf. Unfortunately, this left nothing but rabbit food for Harvard. Harvard of course started to produce whine number twenty-three, pitiful starving puppy. Everyone else who had not previously been exposed to Harvard’s wide range of pitiful whines was reacting with the typical concerned dismay to his theatrics; I, of course, just rolled my eyes.

It wasn’t long before Harvard had his own plate made with pieces of meat from Kent’s and Cardshark’s sandwiches and half of Steelfist’s meatloaf. Yeah, Steelfist was a soft touch. Okay, okay, I also gave him part of my dinner too; I was sort of responsible for him after all. So as we all settled into one of the round tables, Harvard had a respectable portion heaped onto his plate. I could almost swear he looked smug.

“So you said you would tell me why you all looked so excited when I got back to the lab once we got here, so spill it,” said Steelfist.

“Oh yes, well, first off, as far as I can tell, Harvard is not possessed by a demonic entity but, it turns out he is a magical creature, though I have never seen one like him before. Damn near blew my brain when I used my magic on him; shows what you get for not listening to a warning,” said Cardshark.

“A warning?”

“Yep, Harvard warned us that it wouldn’t be a good idea to use that spell on him,” said Cardshark with the calm manner of someone that expects what they say to surprise someone and they want to seem coolly unruffled by the event.

For her trouble, Cardshark only got a raised eyebrow from Steelfist. “Really? I never heard of a talking dog before, except in Disney movies. Do you think you can get him to say something?”

“He only speaks in Adam’s mind, at least so far,” said Kent, smiling a little at Cardshark’s irritation at not getting much of a reaction out of Steelfist.

“Does he have anything to say right now?” asked Steelfist, turning to me.

Harvard looked up from where he had been scarfing down his food. —Tell him thank you for the food, even if you are an easy mark,- said Harvard into my mind.

“He said thank you for sharing your food,” I told Steelfist, tactfully leaving the last part out.

“He’s welcome.”

Cardshark gave a disappointed sigh at not being able to get a reaction out of Steelfist, then pushed on with the explanation of what happened earlier. “It turns out that Harvard is really Adam’s familiar.”

“Do familiars normally talk to their people?” asked Kent after taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“That’s kind of a hard question to answer. Most people with familiars seem to be able to communicate with them somehow, but they are generally closed mouth about the relationship. The bond is normally considered a very personal one,” explained Cardshark.

“I remember you had a familiar for a time,” said Steelfist, grinning.

Cardshark scowled at him, “Sergeant Earth Mover said last year for everyone to lay off that joke. That mouse that found its way into my lab was NOT my familiar, it was not named Mickey, nor was it named Scabbers, and it most certainly was NOT what happened to my ex-boyfriend, so just drop it okay!”

It sounded like there was a story behind all that, but I thought it was probably better that it got interrupted; besides, something in what they said had caught my attention. “Since I have Harvard, does that mean I’m some kind of wizard?”

Cardshark gave one last glare at Steelfist, who was still grinning, before she turned to me and answered. “Most of the time, having a familiar is a good indication that you have some talent in magic, so there is a good chance that your talents lean that way, and that mud golem you told us about raising earlier makes it seem even more likely.”

Hmm, me a wizard, that didn’t sound too bad. Of course, I was never going to hear the last of the Harry Potter jokes from my little sister, but that was to be expected. If I had turned into Champion, I would still be getting jazzed by her. Note to self, learn how to turn annoying younger people into toads. “So what is involved in being a wizard anyway? Do I just point and say abracadabra and stuff happens?”

“Mostly what’s involved in magic is a lot of hard work and studying. If you have the wizard talent, you will have an easier time gathering in essence, but that still doesn’t make it easy. There are a few different magical disciplines I know of, but I’m only versed in my own. Whateley is probably the best place to learn magic out there,” explained Cardshark.

“Speaking of Whateley, here is the packet I was talking about,” said Steelfist, handing over a manila envelope.

Inside the envelope were a number of brochures and a thick registration form. I put that to one side and looked at the brochures. The top one was glossy, with a picture of a group of students on the cover all dressed in school uniforms and smiling at the camera. It was only after looking closely that I saw there was something different about this picture.

It was a group of seven students grouped around a park bench. The first thing that my eye was drawn to was the stunning redhead that was sitting in the center of the bench. She had to be one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen, and that included in all the airbrushed pictures of models. Wow, now she is a definite reason to go to this school if I have ever seen one. The next thing I noticed was that there was a black girl balancing on the back of the bench with one hand and, looking closer, balancing two pencils end to end with the other. Okay, there had to be some kind of visual trick going on with that image.

The weirdness in the picture didn’t stop there because, if my eyes weren’t seeing things, it looked like one girl with a really weird hair style was actually floating in midair above the others. And so was the hot guy to the left of her! The rest of the students looked normal enough except for being really good looking; well except for the little Asian girl with a stuffed animal on her lap; she was more cute. And did the other Asian girl to the far right actually have a sword with her? Any school that let students have swords had major coolness points going for it. My school wouldn’t even let you bring a steak knife for lunch.

I opened up the brochure and quickly read through the introduction. It was kind of like the information packets the councilors at school had been giving out about some colleges. It talked about where it was located, New Hampshire, which was apparently very scenic, and the wonderful cottage accommodations for newcomers. It also apparently had an illustrious history and distinguished alumni. The list of some of the classes offered raised my eyebrows some. It’s not every day you see nuclear physics offered as a course in high school. It was when it got to the price that I started feeling disappointed.

“There is no way my folks can afford a school like this, my dad is a lawyer but it’s not like he is winning against big tobacco or anything,” I said dejectedly.

“Don’t worry about it, Adam; if you read a little further, you’ll see that they offer hardship scholarships for people that can’t afford it,” said Steelfist.

“Yeah Adam, don’t worry about it, I’m sure paying for it won’t be a problem. Whateley is a really good school. Some of the best moments of my life were at Whateley, and you get a top notch education there too,” said Kent with a smile.

We talked for a while about Whateley; it really did sound like a pretty cool place. Some of it was kind of hard to believe. They really let students form teams and fight each other? Secret tunnels and labs under the school? A giant crystal dome for a cafeteria?

“Course, that was after my time,” said Kent. “They built the Crystal Hall as the senior legacy in eighty-five. When I was there, we were all crammed into Dunn Hall if we wanted to eat.”

“What was the senior legacy in your year Kent?” asked Cardshark.

Kent made a face. “We didn’t have a very good senior legacy in nineteen eighty. No one really got along that year, and there wasn’t really any one group that was powerful enough to ram their idea down everyone’s throats, so there ended up being a lot of little things done as each group or club hared off with their own thing. My friends and I ended up putting in new lampposts all along the paths to the schools,” said Kent with a fond smile at the memory.

“Well that sounds…useful, I guess, but I would have figured you for doing something a little less mundane,” said Steelfist.

Kent chuckled. “Our motives weren’t as pure as all that. We ended up hiding speakers in each of the lampposts as well as cameras and microphones. Back at our hideout, we could spy on everyone, and if we felt that things were getting too dull, we could force the whole school to listen to us rock out.”

Just then, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned in time to see the door to the cafeteria open and Sergeant Earth Mover come in. And following right behind him was…

“Mom! Dad!” I jumped out of my seat, actually knocking it over in my rush. I took a few steps before I froze, suddenly awash in feelings of panic. I had been longing for my folks to show up all day, but now that they were here and I had to confront them in my new body, I didn’t have a clue of what to do. Fortunately, my mother knew exactly what to do. She flew across the room and buried me in a hug that was hard enough that I was afraid I might crack a rib.

“Adam, I was so worried about you! Thank god you’re alright!” It felt good being hugged by my mother, real good. I felt a weight I didn’t even know was there lift from my shoulders as I hugged her back.

“Mom I...” I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, there were so many things that I wanted to tell her all at once. I love you. I was worried about you too. Will you accept me after what has happened?

“It’s okay kiddo, we are here,” said my dad as he too put his arms around me. They were both crying and, for some strange reason, that helped me keep my own tears in check. Maybe it was that I wanted be strong for them since they were so obviously distressed.

Eventually, we separated and my dad looked down at me. Damn it! I was shorter now. “I know what has happened to you is hard, but we will get through this as a family.”

“That’s right, honey, no matter what has happened to you, we love you,” agreed my mom.

Kent must have made some kind of movement because he drew my mother’s eye and her expression changed from loving to one filled with anger. She stalked over to where he was seated and slapped him hard across the face. He rocked back under the blow, putting a hand up to rub where the fresh outline of a hand now glowed red on his cheek.

“I trusted you to protect Adam, and you let him almost die! I had to have Sergeant Earth Mover apologize for his team not moving when they first had news of what happened. No one can trust you, and that almost got my son killed!”

Kent took this harangue with a strange expression. I wasn’t sure if he was upset about my mother’s accusations or if he had expected them or what.

My dad intervened before anything else could happen. He pulled my mother back and tried to calm her. “Veronica, stop that! He did everything he could to help!”

I didn’t understand what had come over my mom; she is normally such a put together person, who was always in control of herself. “I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Kent, honest,” I said, trying to explain.

“It’s okay Adam; your mother has every right to be angry with me. I’ll just wait outside; you should have time to be with your family now that you are together,” said Kent, standing up and leaving the cafeteria.

“Mom, what was that about?!” I asked, bewildered by what had happened. Everyone was silent for a moment, and she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Is that really you, Adam?” asked a small voice from behind my parents.

I turned from staring at my mother to see my sister looking at me with big eyes.

“Yeah, sis, it’s me,” I said a little awkwardly, then added, “Just, you know, in really good drag,” which got a smile from her, even if it was a little uneasy.

“Steelfist, Cardshark, if you are both done eating, I think we should let the Oaksons have a bit of privacy to catch up,” said Sergeant Earth Mover, gesturing at his two subordinates to leave with him.

“Right, boss,” said Cardshark as she and Steelfist picked up the trash and left over food from the table and disposed of it. She paused at the door and turned to look at me. “When you all are done and ready to leave, just pick up the phone over there,” she gestured to where a couple of phones were set up on a wall, “and press zero. Tell the help desk that you are ready for me to come get you; I’ll be here in a jiffy.”

Once all the superheroes had left, it was just me and my family. We settled in at the now cleared table. Harvard demanded and received pets from the rest of the family. My dad shook his head while scratching Harvard behind the ears, “I still don’t understand Harvard’s part in all of this. We heard some of what happened from when Kent called and told us you were here, and a bit more when we got here and Earth Mover talked to us, but we would like to hear you tell us what happened,” said my dad.

So I told the story one more time. I started from when I left the house for my morning jog with Harvard, and told them briefly about my run in with the mud monster. This was something they had no clue had happened from their earlier talks. Both my mom and dad looked upset about this manifestation of my mutant powers, and my sister, while she didn’t look weirded out, did look to be upset about something.

My account of the time I spent with the crazed cult people had them worried. It turns out Sergeant Earth Mover had told my parents that they never found Whippoorwill; he must have slipped away when the Watchers were storming the place. I tried to explain how if it wasn’t for Kent, I wouldn’t have had a chance of surviving, but my mother just frowned at that, though my dad gave me a reassuring nod as if to say he understood.

There was silence after I finished as my family tried to take in what had happened to me.

“So Harvard was the one that led the Watchers to you? How did he get up there in the first place?” asked my mom.

“It turns out that Harvard is what is called a familiar,” I explained. “We found this out once we got back here, and Cardshark was running some tests on the two of us. So I guess Harvard did all that through magic or something,” I blinked as a thought occurred to me. “You know, I can just ask Harvard how he did it. I know this sounds really strange, but he seems to be able to talk in my head now,” I turned to my dog and posed the question to him. “So how did you do it, buddy? How did you get all the way up where I was?”

Harvard cocked his head as he looked at me. —I was worried about you, so I went to where you were. I couldn’t get in so I found the nice man that smells like the ground to open a way in.-

“Yeah, Harvard, but how did you get up there?”

-I just did- said Harvard in the same tone as a person explaining to someone a little slow that night follows day.

“Is he really speaking too you?” asked my sister, “In your mind?”

“Yep,” I said absently scratching at the back of my neck. My now long hair felt like it was tickling me; I was going to have to get a haircut or something. “At first, I thought it was someone talking out loud, but once I got used to it, I can kind of tell that it’s just in my head.”

My dad slowly shook his head. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. We have always know that Harvard was special, more intelligent than any dog I have ever seen, so finding this out doesn’t shock me as much as it should. Or maybe I have just had too many shocks today for it to have that much of an effect.”

At least you didn’t suddenly grow breasts, I thought, as Harvard doggie grinned and pushed his head under my dad’s hand for another scratch.

“And he still seems to be the same Harvard we have always known.”

“When are they going to change you back to be Adam?” asked Kelly.

I gulped. “I don’t know, Kelly. Both Cardshark and Kent tried to use their power to change me back, but it didn’t work. Cardshark said I’m going to have to find someone really powerful and skilled to help me fix this. They said the best chance I have of finding someone like that is if I go to this school for mutants, Whateley, and even then there might not be a way to reverse this.”

My dad put his hand over mine, which was trembling slightly. “It’s okay Adam, we will love you as much as our daughter as we did as our son if it comes to that.”

My mom covered my other hand and gave me a warm smile. “Besides, it’s not all that bad being a girl. I certainly enjoy it. Look at this as a chance to see how the other half lives.”

“Yeah right, a full body foreign exchange trip,” I said sarcastically.

My sister, who had appeared upset by this news, seemed to reach a decision. “You know, Adam, that if you’re a girl now, we can’t keep on calling you Adam; people will think it’s weird.”

“I don’t want a new name!” I said, a little indignantly.

“You know, she is probably right, Adam. If we keep calling you that, it will only cause trouble. Do you really want people giving you a hard time about your name?” said my mom.

I didn’t like the idea, but when she put it like that, I didn’t like the idea of constantly being hassled about my name by people even more. “Maybe,” I said, still not wanting to give into the idea, “What kind of name where y’all thinking of?”

“Well, we can’t go with the name we were going to give you if you had been born a girl, since we ended up using that with Kelly. What about Eve?” my mom tried.

“Oh come on! Going from Adam to Eve? That is so corny! I would be embarrassed if I had to go around with a name like that.”

“How about Bella? It’s a popular name right now,” offered my sister with a grin.

“Girl or not, I can still murder you in your sleep,” I told her with a glare.

“Your great-grandmother was named Eden. What do you think of that one?” asked my dad.

Eden, that wasn’t too bad. It was loosely connected to my real name at least, and a certain something about it appealed to me. “That might work, I guess,” I said, still not too sure I liked the idea of getting a new name.

“What about your middle name?” asked my mom, “I always liked Annette, or maybe…”

I interrupted my mother, “Uh-uh, I’m not changing my middle name. Changing my first one is bad enough; I’ll be damned if I change my middle one too.”

“But what will people say when they hear your middle name?” my mom asked reasonably.

Of course, I was in no mood for being reasonable. “I don’t care what they say. I’m not changing any more names. If they don’t like it they can go…uh, away,” I said, hastily amending what I had planned on saying at the end.

“It’s okay Ad-Eden, we won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to,” said my dad.

“That’s right, honey, we are here to help you all we can,” said my mother, squeezing the hand she was still holding.

“Does that mean I don’t have to do chores anymore? Because I really don’t want to do them,” I joked while squeezing my mom’s hand right back.

“Trying to take advantage of us, are you kiddo?” said my dad smiling at me. “But what’s this school you were talking about?”

“Oh yeah, I got these brochures and things. Take a look,” The whole family crowded around my dad so they could look at them over his shoulder.

“Is that hot guy floating in the air?” asked my sister.

“Well, it is a school for mutants. I know it sounds expensive,” I told my folks as they got to the tuition section, “but Steelfist said that they offer scholarships to people who can’t afford it.”

“I don’t know if I like the idea of sending you all the way to New Hampshire for school,” said my dad, frowning slightly.

“From everything I hear, Whateley is one of the best schools out there,” said my mother.

“You have heard of Whateley before?” I asked her, a little surprised.

“Yes, Kent told me about it a long time ago.”

“What’s up with you and Kent?” I asked, now that I had an opening. “I thought you were old friends.”

“We are not friends!” my mom said eyes blazing. “He owed me, and I had no one else to turn to for help for you.” My dad gently took hold of her hand, and this seemed to calm her down some. “We are not going to talk about Kent today; it has been hard enough as it is.”

My dad sighed, “Yes, it has been a hard day; we will answer your questions, Eden, but not tonight. Can you get hold of Cardshark like she said? I think it’s time we went home.”

I grumbled a bit, but I could tell I wasn’t going to get any more out of them about the subject. I really didn’t get it; Kent seemed like such a nice guy. Why was my mom so upset with him? I would be dead right now if it wasn’t for him, probably worse than dead, I thought with a shiver.

Dad seemed alright. A little tired, but he was taking everything in stride, just like he always did. That was one of the things I most looked up to him for. He seemed to be centered in life, and nothing could shake him up. It didn’t matter what the crisis was, he always seemed to be able to deal with the situation, or at least face it calmly. I really hoped I could be like him one day, but it seemed like I was always panicking and making the wrong decisions when it was crunch time.

I wish I knew what was going on in Kelly’s head. It might not show to most people, but I could tell she was upset. She seemed sad and unsure around me, for all that she was trying to act the opposite. It made me sick to think that, on top of everything that had happened to me today, that my relationship with my sister might be affected. If even my sister couldn’t accept what had happened, how would everyone else I knew react? How would Brook react?

I shoved these thoughts aside, unwilling to face them right now. I called the duty desk and told them to let Cardshark know we were ready to leave. It wasn’t that long of a wait until she showed back up to guide us out of their base. She and my parents exchanged small talk, which I mostly ignored. I was suddenly very tired and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t until we got to the ground level parking lot that I finally remembered something.

“Um Cardshark, I almost forgot, how do I get your clothes back to you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Adam. You can keep the clothes; they hardly fit me anyway.”

“Adam is going to use the name Eden now,” said my sister with a bright false smile.

“That’s not a bad name, kind of interesting. I’m glad you’re starting to adapt to your new situation.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I replied noncommittally, “Thanks for all the help, and thank Steelfist for me.”

“I’ll tell him, but if we’re lucky, he will be around tomorrow and you can tell him yourself,” she said.

“Tomorrow?” I asked blankly.

“Eden, weren’t you paying attention? We are coming back here in the morning for testing,” said my mother.

“Oh, um, sorry, I must have missed that.”

My mother looked at me concernedly. “Are you feeling alright? You don’t feel sick or anything do you?”

“No, no, I’m just a little tired is all.”

Cardshark gave me a one-armed hug. “I’m not surprised, after the day you’ve had. Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning, unless some emergency comes up, of course. If that happens, the Footies will take care of you.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, a little embarrassed by the hug, even though it felt nice. I guess it was one of those girl things; my sister always seemed to be hugging her friends. It might not be so bad if they are all as pretty as Cardshark was.

Of course, Harvard being Harvard wasn’t satisfied until he had received a proper good bye from her as well. After that, we make our way to the family SUV, which was luckily parked on this level. I opened the door in the back, and Harvard jumped up into it, then turned around so he was facing me at about eye level.

-I’m your buddy, right?-

“Yeah, you’re my buddy,” I said, giving him a good scratch behind the ears.

-And you’re my buddy. As long as we are buddies, everything will be alright.- Harvard said, while placing his head on my shoulder.

I smiled some as I hugged my dog. I guess something good at least had happened today. Harvard had always been my best friend, and I had often wondered what he would say if he could talk. Now I don’t have to wonder anymore.

-You don’t think there are any dog snacks in the car, do you?- he asked in a wheedling tone accompanied by a soft whine.

“No I don’t think there are, and you just ate anyways.”

Harvard let out a big sigh, his breath warm against my ear. —Oh well, it was worth asking,- he said, then proceeded to happily lick my ear and face.

I laughed at him doing this. It was not a giggle, no matter what anyone says. Eventually, I got him to stop and lay down, and then closed the back of the SUV. The rest of the family had already gotten into the car, so I slid into the back seat next to my sister and watched out the window as we left the Watchers' base.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 8
 

The ride home was uneventful. I mostly I dozed in the back. It was already dark out, and everything was quiet except for the muted sound of the tires on the highway and the soft conversation of my parents in the front. I didn’t listen in; I figured the odds were good they were talking about me and everything that had happened, and I didn’t what to hear any more about it. Or hell, what do I know, they could have been talking about the neighbor's new garden petunias. Like I said, I didn’t listen in. My sister was also asleep, or at least she was pretending to be; her eyes were closed. From the soft doggie snores in the back, I could tell that Harvard was also stacking Z’s. I closed my eyes and drifted off into the realm of shifting shadows and phantasms.

~o~O~o~

I was walking with Brook after the big game. Our school had won, and, while I didn’t care that much about football, I did love watching the excitement on Brook's face as the game went down to the wire. She was so animated, grinning and grimacing each time something happened on the field.

I tentatively reached out my hand so it brushed hers as we walked. She didn’t say anything, but a moment later our hands brushed again. Butterflies were dancing in my stomach; I think they were forming a conga line. Taking my courage in hand, I let my hand slip into hers. She didn’t pull away, and I felt the butterflies all kick out their feet in unison and yell ‘hey!’

We walked like that for a while, not talking, just holding hands until we reached a park bench. Brook tugged my hand, and we sat down on it. The moonlight washed out her golden hair, turning it silver in the sun's reflected light. We didn’t do anything for a time; finally, Brook grinned at me.

“This is the part where you kiss me, you know?”

“Oh, uh, okay.”

I leaned in, and my lips gently pressed against hers. It was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. The congaing butterflies went still, and I just lived in that moment.

Suddenly there was chanting all around me, and I felt my body being reshaped into something different from who I was. I broke the kiss and screamed in agony as my skin seemed to crawl. I looked down at myself and saw my body turn female, losing its masculine lines for feminine curves. I grabbed at myself, trying to hold on to my body, trying to somehow keep what was male from slipping away. The only thing that happened was my clothes started to dissolve into nothingness, leaving me naked before Brook.

Brook’s eyes were wide as she stared at me. She reached out a trembling hand as if to touch me, but pulled back before she made contact. “Adam? You’re not Adam! Who are you?” I tried to explain that it was me, but nothing would come out of my mouth. She stood up and looked at me in panic. “What have you done with Adam!”

As she stood there, my body began to change again. This time my skin began to wrinkle and sag. My breasts drooped and became leathery-looking half empty sacks attached to my front. My hair moved on my head like a nest of snakes, rearranging itself into the buns of an old woman. I brought my hands up in front of my eyes and watched as they turned into withered claws.

I could finally make noise as I screamed into the uncaring heavens.

“Nooo!”

With my scream, Brook and the peaceful bench of my first kiss faded away, leaving me alone in an endless vista of mist and shadow. I ran.I ran until I could run no more. I ran until my side hurt and I couldn’t get my breath. I bent over panting, trying to get my breath back. I noticed that my body had returned to its normal shape, that of a male. After a moment, I looked up, trying to get my bearings and see where I was, and as I did, the mist cleared some and I found myself back in the cult's hidden stronghold with all the cultist gathered around chanting. No one seemed to be able to see me and as I wandered among them, I finally got to where I could see the focus of their attention.

Tied to the stone altar was a naked young woman. For a moment, I thought I remembered her, that she and I were connected somehow,but my mind seemed to be muddled and my thinking was slow. I stood numbly watching as the ceremony continued and a man in a white fuzzy bathrobe with “Holiday Inn” embroidered on the front gestured and did strange things. Suddenly, above the girl a trapdoor into nothingness seemed to open and a cat peered out of it.

Barking erupted behind me, and Harvard came charging in. The cat jumped down from its high perch, and Harvard began to chase it around the room, knocking over cultists as he ran into them. I turned to follow them with my eyes and found myself facing Kent as he played the guitar. On his chest was a larger than life tattoo of Darth Vader and he had started to sing in the voice of James Earl Jones.

As I was staring in some bemusement at this sight, bright lines began to appear in everything, forming into thousands and thousands of different characters. And as my vision become filled with these shapes, words and names began pouring into my mind, silently thundering what they were.

~o~O~o~

I awoke with a start, and for a moment the characters sill filled my vision, and their names sang in my ears.

“Kids, we’re home,” said my dad from the front seat as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door.

I got out of the car and stretched out the kinks I got from trying to sleep while slumped against a door. Harvard gave a bark, letting me know that he too wanted out of the vehicle. I opened up the back, and he jumped out and immediately made a dash for a tree in the yard, where he cocked a leg and watered the grass. I waited impatiently for him to get done with his business.

“I told you not to drink all that water right before we got in the car, you know.”

He ignored me magisterially as he finished up, then kicked at the grass with his back legs.

I was surprised when we went inside, but in a good way. The place had been wrecked right before those goons had kidnapped me, but now it seemed to have been put back to rights, or at least mostly. There were some things that had been broken that weren’t around anymore, and I saw a number of other objects stacked on the kitchen table.

“When did you get a chance to clean this all up?” I asked my dad, who was going through the things piled on the table.

“I got Jim and Sandy, two of the interns at work, to come by and clean this up. I promised to help finagle them some time off, come the holidays, as well as paying them,” he sighed, “I had them throw out whatever didn’t look salvageable and put everything else on this table. I didn’t expect there would be so much.”

“It looks a lot better than before dad; I’m glad you didn’t see it before,” I said, going up and hugging him, since he seemed to need it right then.

He returned the hug and gave another sigh. “It’s just stuff. We can replace anything that is broken. The important thing is that everyone made it through this alive.”

In the meantime, Harvard had gone straight away to the water bowl where he was lapping up a large quantity of water.

“Ah, come on, Harvard! Now you’re going to have to go out again in the middle of the night!” I said.

He raised his head and looked at me, at the same time dripping water all over the tiled floor from his muzzle. —I’m thirsty! And it’s not my fault you have to let me out. You should have doors that paws can open if you don’t want to have that problem.-

I rolled my eyes. “You always have a smart answer, don’t you? You did even before you started talking. Try not to make a mess out here, I’m going to go take a shower. Most of the dried mud came off when…during that ceremony, but my skin still itches.”

“Alright kiddo, I want you to go straight to bed after that. You need some rest after today,” dad said, giving me another hug.

When I was undressing to get into the shower, I finally got my first good look at the girl I had become in the mirror. She was pretty, no, she was beautiful. She could have easily been a teen model that graced the cover of magazines, no airbrushing needed. Her skin was pale, but not in that sickly, doesn’t get out enough kind of way. And she was slender, very slender. Those magazines she could be on would have gotten complaints that it gave girls unhealthy expectations. Her breasts were high and small with round pink nipples. Her neck was slim, and the hollow of her throat was clearly pronounced. Her face was lovely, with the copper of her glowing eyes and wavy hair almost metallic in appearance.

I got to the toilet just in time to toss my cookies, and after my stomach was empty, I sat there against the wall and let my tears drip. How could this have happened to me? What had I ever done to deserve this? I didn’t know. I guess what they say about life not being fair was true enough.

It was a good thing I was so tired, because taking a shower was not fun. Oh, the water on my tired muscles felt good, and it was nice to get clean, but psychologically it was sheer hell. It was just wrong. Everything about it was wrong! I’m not going to go over what it was like to soap up a female body, if you want to read something like that go get a Playboy. I cried some more in the shower, the tears mingling with the hot water as they trailed down my cheeks.

I got out of the shower and dried myself off. For some reason, the normally fluffy towels felt a little coarser than usual. It wasn’t as if they felt like they were made of steel wool or anything, but they didn’t feel as soft as they used to. Maybe some starch had gotten in with the towels or something. Whatever. I just finished rubbing myself down.

My hair was giving me some trouble. I tried drying it off with a towel like I always did but soon found that vigorous scrubbing was not going to turn the trick. It was at this point that I heard crying coming through the door to my sister’s room. And it wasn’t the 'a boy didn’t ask me out' kind, it was true deep down sobbing like her heart would break. I knocked on her door but didn’t get a response, so I said 'what the hell' and went on in.

“Hey, Kelly, what’s wrong?” I said, standing in her door way.

She took one look at me and turned her face into the pillow and sobbed all the harder. I went and sat down on the side of her bed and pulled her up into my arms, which, by the way, was more difficult then I had been expecting, damn it. For the next five minutes, I just held her and said what comforting words I could think of.

After she had calmed down some, I held her away from me a little bit and asked her what was wrong.

She hiccupped a few times but finally sobbed, “I-I want my b-brother back!”

“Hey sis, I’m still here,” I said, pulling her back to me.

“B-but your different n-now! Th-they took you away a-and changed you, and you’re going to l-leave to some school, And n-nothing is going to be the same again!

“Is that what has been upsetting you? That you think I’m not the same as I was before this all happened?”

She nodded against my shoulder and clung to me. I gently pushed her away so I could look her in the eyes. “Sis, I am the same person I have always been. Just because my body is different doesn’t mean I am any different, not deep down where it matters,” I said though I was still trying to work it all out in my head myself. I was telling her the truth wasn’t I?

“B-but…”

“No buts. I’m me, and that is never going to change, and neither is me loving you, even if you are a brat at times. I don’t like what has happened either, but I’m not going to let a bunch of jerks in bathrobes mess up my life. I’m not going to let them mess up my relationship with my family. Now, I don’t know what silly notion you have in your head, but you can drop it right now, or I’ll have Harvard sneak into your room in the middle of the night after eating union rings.

She made a face. “Not that again!” Then she leaned back in and hugged me tightly. “I was worried that you wouldn’t be the same person, that they had somehow changed who you were. I-I guess I was being kind of silly.”

“Yes you were, but that’s what I would expect from someone with only half a brain. I’m glad I could convince you I am still the same person.”

“Yeah well, it didn’t hurt that you were stupid enough to put on a towel the way a boy would. That’s something that Adam would definitely do.”

I looked down at myself. “Uh, oops?”

“It’s okay, it’s not like you have much up top than anyway,” she said, poking my left boob. “I have all kinds of new stuff I can tease you about now, don’t I?”

“Hey, cut it out!” I said, fending off another poke.

Kelly gave up on her attack and instead pointed at my hair. “What did you do to your hair? It’s a mess!”

I reached up and touched the damp curls on the top of my head. “Uh, tried to dry it off?”

Kelly shook her head disgustedly. “Let me guess, you tried to do that the way a boy would too? Let me get a brush. But let me warn you, it’s going to hurt getting those tangles out.”

I briefly remembered when my sister was younger and our mother would brush her hair. Mostly what I remembered was my sister saying ‘ow’ and my mother repeating ‘I have to get this tangle out, hold still’ over and over again. I cringed.

“Ow!” note to self, learn how to dry hair properly. “Ow! Do you really need to pull that hard?”

“I have to get this tangle out, hold still.”

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” I asked as she pulled on another tangle. Her only response was to giggle.

She sobered after a bit. “Do you really have to go to this new school?”

“It’s the best chance I have to get back to my real body.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to leave. W-when mom and dad told me that you had been taken I was so scared I’d never see you again,” she said, stopping the painful brush strokes for a second.

“I’m sorry sis,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “The people that took me aren’t going to be messing with anyone again. The Watchers took care of that. And going to this school is different. I’ll be safe there, and with any luck, I’ll be the real me again.”

“But it’s some stupid boarding school. We won’t see you again for like forever.”

“It won’t be that bad, sis. I can call you all the time up there, and I’ll be home when there is a break, and this summer,” I said.

Kelly went back to pulling on my hair. “Do you promise you will be okay up at this Whateley school, and that you’ll come back safe?”

“I promise I’ll come back home safe. I’m only going to a new school. You’re acting like I’m going someplace where there are pitched battles every other day. And besides, I’ll have Harvard there to watch my back.”

Kelly shook her head. “I’m still not sure I believe you when you say Harvard is talking in your head. It isn’t some kind of prank you are pulling on everyone is it?”

“Would I do something like that?”

Kelly raised her eyebrows and looked as if she was itching to say something before I headed her off. “Okay, maybe I would do something like that, but I’m not this time. Harvard really is speaking too me. It freaked me out the first time, but after I got used to it happening, it didn’t seem so strange. Of course, I have always kind of understood what Harvard wanted to say. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t seem so odd now.”

“I guess I shouldn’t expect anything else. You and your dog have always been weird. There, that should take care of your hair. Let me get my blow-dryer and show you how to finish drying your hair,” she said, grabbing my hand and leading me into our shared bathroom.

I got a quick lesson on proper hair care from my little sister and then went to my room to get ready for bed. Harvard was already in there, lying on my bed with all four paws up in the air, gently snoring. I had a frustrating time going through my clothes trying to find something I could wear to sleep in. Finally, I ended up wearing one of my old shirts which hung down past my hips now and a pair of boxers that fit a little too snuggly over my now wider hips.

There was a knock on my door, and I hastily pulled my shirt down. “Who is it?”

“It’s dad, can I come in?”

“Uh, yeah sure,” I said, checking one more time to see if my shirt and boxers were alright.

“I just wanted to tell you good night, kiddo,” he said, coming over and giving me a hug. “I can’t get off of work tomorrow, but your mother will be off. You’re getting up early to go get testing done with the Watchers, so I want you to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Alright dad, I’m pretty tired anyway.”

He gave me one last hug, then left, closing the door behind him. I heard him make his way to Kelly’s room to tell her good night as well. I turned off the lights, then got in bed, kicking and shoving Harvard with my feet until I had enough space to lie down in. I had thought I would go straight to sleep. I certainly was tired enough. But for some reason, I just couldn’t sleep, my mind wouldn’t rest. Maybe it was the fact that I had be knocked out or drugged so many times today that my body just didn’t need the sleep, even though my mind sure did.

I don’t know how many hours I lay there just staring up into the darkness and trying to get my mind to stay still. I know that one of my parents checked on me at one point, but I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep when they did. I had just decided to get up and get a glass of water when I heard the front door open and then close downstairs.

Curious about who could have arrived this late at night, I walked to the top of the stairs and looked down. My dad was holding my mom’s hand as she glared with fierce intensity at Kent standing awkwardly in the entrance way.

“What do you think you are doing here? You’re not welcome in my home!” said my mother in a venomous hiss.

“Easy Veronica, I invited Kent to come over so we could talk,” said my father in a calming tone.

“We have nothing to talk about! Look what he let happen to Adam! I should have never called him.”

“Veronica, you are smarter than that. You know that if it wasn’t for him Adam would probably be dead or worse. And Adam is the very thing we have to talk about. Things have gone too far for us to pretend it never happened,” said my father.

What were they talking about? I eased back so I was hidden in the shadows on the landing and perked up my ears as it were. Hey, if they were going to talk about me, I didn’t feel that bad listening in.

“Let’s sit down honey, this will be easier if we are comfortable, and it might take a while,” said my dad, pulling my mother to sit down on the couch and gesturing for Kent to take a chair.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Kent spoke up. “I’m glad to see you are doing well Veronica, the recent uh, difficulties notwithstanding.”

All Kent got in reply was an icy glare from my mom.

He sighed. “I’m sorry Veronica. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what I did to you. I was…” he shook his head seemingly at a loss for words for a moment. “…I made a mistake, and nothing I can do can make up for that. But, please, I’m a different person now. I finally woke up and saw what I had become. I know I have no right to ask this, but I want to be part of her life now.”

“Damn right you have no right! You left the two of us. You were more interested in your damn drugs and parties than being responsible. You didn’t care about us. You only cared about yourself!”

Kent didn’t seem to have anything to say to this, but my mother seemed to have opened a floodgate.

“How many times did you promise me it would be the last time, that you were going to change, that you would give up on the drugs and the girls and the crime! How many times did I come home to find you passed out in our bed with some bimbo you found at a party! I trusted you! You said you loved me, but all you ever loved was yourself!”

Wow! Kent and mom? I was stunned. I had not expected anything like this. I had no idea that my mom had any kind of a past like that. I guess you never really think of your mother as having been anything other than a mother. And Kent, he had seemed like such a nice guy. I had liked him. But if he had treated my mother like that… But could he have changed?

“I know,Veronica. I was a fool. I was worse than a fool. If I could make it up to you I would. I would give you everything I have and still that wouldn’t even start to make up for how I treated you. There is nothing I can say. I can only hope that you will give me a chance to show I’m not that person anymore. Even though I know I don’t deserve that chance.”

“You had your chance, Deathknell! You could have come after us. Instead, I see the next night on the news that you had another one of your ‘concerts’ in the middle of Time Square. You seemed to be having a good old time with your music and stealing and kissing whatever girl caught your eye.”

Deathknell? Suddenly, it all clicked. That was where I had seen Kent before, on the TV show about Deathknell, only it was a younger Kent. That’s why I hadn’t remembered any superhero with Kent’s powers. He was a villain! I didn’t know what to think. I had thought that Deathknell was pretty cool from what I knew of him. But he was still a villain; he had robbed people and done other things against the law. And that was Kent, the guy that had tried to save me. Who had gotten shot up and almost killed doing so. And my mother had dated him? I shook my head, this was just too much.

Kent seemed to close his eyes and rub his head. “I know, Veronica, I screwed up. If I could do things over, I would, but it’s too late for that. But damn it, you called me. You asked me to come out here and help our son. You can’t expect me to come here and meet her and not want to be part of her life. To just walk away like it never happened. Please, Veronica, I know what I did to you was wrong and I can never make up for it, but don’t do this to me. Give me a chance to try and make up for my mistakes.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit. My mind was a blank. I literally couldn’t think of anything. The implications of what Kent had said were just too big for me. My whole world seemed to be turned upside down and then shaken by a giant. I must have made some sound because my parents and Kent turned to look up at where I was standing at the top of the stairs.

“Adam?” my mother asked in a tone of dismay.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 9
 

There was a thud as I abruptly sat down on the second floor landing. You could say that I was surprised. You could also say I was astonished, flabbergasted, stunned, stupefied, and shocked. If a dozen naked dancing girls had just trooped into the house and did the cancan, I don’t think I would have noticed right at that moment.

“Uh, hey Mom, I was j-just getting a glass of water, but I don’t think I’m thirsty anymore.” I looked up from where I had been intensely staring at the floor when my mom and dad, or well, you know who I mean, put their arms around me. They had apparently gotten up the stairs without my noticing.

My mom was saying over and over again that she was sorry and that this wasn’t how she wanted me to find out. My dad just hugged me. After a moment, he gently pulled me up off the landing.

“Come on Eden, let’s go sit down and explain it all too you,” Dad said as he led me down the stairs. It was a tight squeeze, since my mom didn’t want to let go of me either as we trooped downwards.

When we sat down, Dad was the first to say anything. “How much did you hear us talking about?”

“I-I went to get some water right when Kent showed up, I was thirsty.” It seemed important to me to tell them that I had a legitimate reason for being out of bed.

“Okay Eden, then you heard that I am not your biological father. I want you to know that changes nothing of how I feel about you. I love you, and it doesn’t matter who’s DNA you have; you are my daughter.”

My dad saying that helped to get rid of the shock some, though the whole ‘my daughter’ thing almost made me want to laugh in a hysterical sort of way. Man, was my life getting messed up today. What god had I pissed off for all of this to be happening to me?

I looked over at Kent where he was sitting, apprehension plain in his posture and expression. “So you’re…”

“Yes, I’m your father.”

“So you and Mom were more than just old friends?”

Kent drew in a deep breath before letting it out. “Yeah, when your mother and I were younger, we had a relationship, a relationship that I screwed up. I-I had problems back then. I was on drugs in a bad way and I was running with a bad crowd. I wasn’t ready to be a father. And despite how much your mother loved me, I didn’t love her or you enough to change who I was.” He looked down and said in a thick voice, “Not going after you and your mother when she left was the worst mistake of my life. If I could go back in time and undo it, I would, but it’s too late now. All I can do now is beg your forgiveness and ask that you let me have some part in your life. But if you don’t want me too, I understand.”

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to feel. Here was this man that turned out to be my father. He had probably saved my life and soul earlier today, but he had also abandoned me after I was born. He had treated my mother like shit and had been more concerned with feeling good than taking responsibility for his life. I felt angry, I felt sad, I felt a warmth towards him that might be the beginnings of love, and I felt frustration at the whole situation, but mostly, I felt confused as all get out.

I looked towards my parents, my emotions probably clear on my face. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?”

“Honey, I didn’t want you to know what kind of a man your father was. I thought it would be best that Carl be the only father that you knew. Deathknell is an internationally wanted criminal…”

“I uh, got a pardon from the last president; he liked my music,” Kent put in diffidently.

“You’re still wanted in six countries,” my mom said, shooting him a glare before turning back to me. “…and I didn’t want you drawn into his mess of a life. People would have used you against him if anyone found out about you. We thought it was better that you never know.”

My face flushed as my anger began to rise. They had lied to me about one of the most important things in my life. They had lied to me about who I was! I started to yell but remembered Kelly sleeping upstairs. God knows she didn’t need to hear all this, not as upset as she already was with everything. “So you decided just like that to keep the truth from me? I can kind of understand not telling me when I was young, if like you say, it might have been dangerous if anyone found out about it, but you decided not even to tell me when I was older. When I could be trusted to keep a secret?” I found myself on my feet, my voice a strangled half scream as I kept the volume low through force of will and love for my sister. “Instead I have to find out about it like this! What kind of parents are you? How could you lie to me my whole life!

I couldn’t take it anymore; tears streaming down my face, I ran from the room and back up the stairs to my own. I heard my mother try to say something behind me, but I didn’t care. I so wanted to slam my door when I got to it, but somehow I restrained myself; instead, I threw myself on my bed and wept into the pillow. My life was so messed up! It just wasn’t fair!

I felt Harvard’s reassuring weight settle in beside me as he silently gave comfort just as he always had. I turned my head and cried into his fur.

~o~O~o~

Carl sighed and rubbed at his face as he closed the door to his and his wife’s bedroom, leaving his wife to her misery. Tonight had not gone well. He had planned on discussing what to do about Kent becoming part of Adam’s life. He believed that now that Kent had come into contact with Adam that he deserved a chance to be a larger part of it. He had followed Kent’s ‘career’ as best he could. He had felt both hope and dismay when he learned that Kent started going clean four years ago. Hope because it meant that Herbert Kent might finally be pulling himself out of the mess he had made of his life and could maybe become part of his son’s. And dismay for the same reason. He might lose part of his relationship with the child he loved with all his heart to the boy’s biological father.

They should have told him earlier about his real father. He and his wife had almost done so a few times, but it always seemed to be the wrong moment. He had to admit that he and Veronica had just been too scared to do so. They had just taken the easy way out of putting off when they would have the discussion with Adam. At first, it seemed like they had good reasons. Adam was young and might have let it slip who his father was and that could put him in danger. They had told themselves that he would better understand when he was a little older. Then it seemed that Kent was trying to get clean, so they wanted to watch and see what happened with that. And when he did get clean, they wanted to make sure he stayed that way for a while before they did anything. They had always put it off that little bit more day by day.

Then there had been the mess tonight. He had finally decided to take the bull by the horns and start the process that might have meant Adam knowing the truth. He had invited Kent over so the three of them could talk it out and so he could see if Kent wanted a relationship with his son. He knew Veronica would be upset by the whole thing. She had handled the fear she had felt all day for her child by channeling it into anger, and it had come out in her interactions with Kent, the man who had been her first love. He had expected for her to blow off some steam yelling at Kent before they could get down to the real business. It would be a good way to see what Kent’s true feelings were. What he hadn’t expected was for their son, who he had thought was soundly asleep, to show up.

Daughter, not son, he had to remind himself of that fact. As fantastical as it seemed, his son was now a woman. He ached for the pain this confusing transformation must be causing Eden. He hoped for her sake that she would find some way to change her body back at this school, but he knew that even if she couldn’t, she had the strength in her to adapt. She had such a strong personality, it had always amazed him how she could overcome any problem with a mix of humor and sheer determination.

He shook his head, he was wool gathering, and he still had Kent to deal with this night. As he walked into the living room, he saw that Kent seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. He was still seated where he had been when Eden had interrupted them.

“I would offer you a drink, but I don’t think that would be a good idea, all things considered,” said Carl as he sat across from the aging rocker.

Kent looked up and winced. “Yeah, as much as I might want a drink after the events of today, I don’t feel like going down that road again.”

“So you really have gone clean?”

“Four years, three months and twenty-one days, free of all of it, drinks, drugs, or devises,” he paused for a moment. “What’s going to happen now?”

“A lot of it will be up to Eden. If she wants to have a relationship with you, we won’t stand in the way. We will monitor the situation, of course, and there will be certain ground rules, but that is all something we can work out as we go along.”

“Veronica didn’t seem all that keen on me having anything to do with Eden. As much as I want this, and really do, I don’t want to make trouble with your family.”

“Veronica will go along with it. She just has some pent up anger with you that she was working through. Of course, I’m not saying she is going to be your friend anytime soon, or even be civil to you, but she will agree to this as long as it seems best for Eden.

Kent got a wistful look in his eyes. “How is Veronica? She seemed really upset about tonight.”

“My wife will be fine,” Carl said laying stress on the pronoun. “Yes, she is upset about everything, but she’s a strong woman and will get through this.”

“Sorry, I just…”

Carl waved his apology aside. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I think we will all have some issues to deal with if this is going to work.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” said Kent, getting up. “I think it’s about time I was leaving. It’s well past midnight, and I’m sure you need your sleep.”

“Yes. I’ll call you and let you know what Eden wants to do about this whole situation,” said Carl reaching over to shake Kent’s hand. His expression turned hard as he held the hand of his wife’s former lover. “One more thing; I want you to know Eden is my daughter, and while I support you in having a relationship with her, I will not let you hurt her. I think you have cleaned up you act and changed, but if you hurt Eden the way you hurt my wife, I will hunt you down, and mutant powers or no mutant powers, I will kill you. Is that understood?” Kent swallowed once then nodded his head firmly.

After Kent had left, Carl went upstairs to check on his children. Kelly was fast asleep, snoring softly at the beginning of each breath. Carl wondered how she was dealing with everything. When he had first picked her up from her school and as gently as he could told her what had happened, she was upset. That was an understatement, thought Carl. But then, what do you expect when a girl learns her mother had been attacked and her brother kidnapped. When they learned that Eden was well, she had been incredible relived, but she had gotten tense again when she learned what had happened to her brother.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a reason to be tense and upset. Nothing really prepared you for a sudden magical transformation of a family member. He was going to have to sit Kelly down and talk with her some, try to figure out what was going on in her mind.

He was even more quiet when he cracked open the door to Eden’s room. He didn’t want to disturb her if she was still awake. He figured she wouldn’t want to see anyone until the morning. To his relief, she was asleep, curled around Harvard, her head resting on his neck. He closed the door silently and let the door knob turn softly in his hand so as to stop it from making a click.

Harvard, now there was a real conundrum. He wasn’t sure if he trusted him or not. He had loved him when he thought he was just an overly smart, large, dog. But now that he knew that the dog was really intelligent, he had to question why he had attached himself to Eden. He wondered if he could get the dog away from her somehow. Maybe he should insist that she couldn’t take it up to school with her. He would have to think about that.

It was quiet in his own room. The lights were out, and he could just see enough thanks to the moonlight through the window to see his way to the bed. He stripped out of his clothes and then lay down on the bed with a soft creak of the mattress springs.

After a moments silence Veronica spoke into the stillness. “I really screwed up this time, didn’t I? Adam is never going to forgive me for holding the truth back from her for so long.”

“We made that decision together, love, and it’s long past being able to do anything about it now. We are just going to have to wait and hope for the best.”

In the darkness they reached out and clasped hands, both drawing strength from the other's grip.

~o~O~o~

I awoke to a strange gurgling noise. I sounded like the kind you might hear in ancient buildings with equally ancient plumbing. As I lay there trying to figure this out, I noticed my head was raising and falling in a rhythm that seemed to be timed with a whooshing noise. My eyes decided my ears were doing too much of the work and opened. The sight that greeted me is something that only the stern of heart would not flinch from. Enormous with their closeness, two black nostrils seemed to form tunnels of some alien, slime-filled world.

“Arugh!”

Harvard backed his face away from mine and doggie grinned at me. -Morning Eden! What are we going to do today? When are we going to eat? I’m hungry.-

“What time is it?” I said, sitting up in the bed and trying to untangle the sheets from around my body.

Harvard gave me a puzzled look like it should be obvious. —It’s morning time, of course,- he seemed to think for a moment, then added, -It’s also breakfast time.-

I finally got the python-like sheet off of me and hopped out of bed. Bits of me jiggled. This reminder did not please me. It wasn’t as if I had forgotten about the whole new body thing. I just had kind of shoved it out of my mind upon waking. Probably some kind of subconscious denial I had going.

I gritted my teeth. I wasn’t going to let this beat me. I could survive this. I just had to keep the goal of getting myself changed back firmly in mind. It helps when you know you’re traveling towards something. It’s a hell of a lot better than running away.

For a second, I was indecisive. What was it girls did in the morning anyway? My sister had always needed to wake up much earlier than me to get ready. But after giving it a bit of thought, I decided that it didn’t matter. I was just going to do what I needed to do and let what a girl needed to do go hang. I wasn’t going to let myself or society force me to conform to a stereotype and tell me that’s was how I had to behave. Like I told my sister last night, I was still me.

As if nature itself decided to be ironic and mock my resolve, my bladder told me that it needed emptying. Stupid girl body not able to pee standing up. I went into the bathroom, noticing through the adjoining door that my sister wasn’t in her room and figuring that this probably meant it was late enough that she was already in school. I frowned down at the toilet before sighing and sitting down to do my business. Some half-remembered comment I had heard one of Brook's aunts say to a potty-training cousin guided me in the right way to clean up afterwards.

I took a shower, making sure not to get my hair wet, since I didn’t want to deal with it again, and did the rest of the things I would normally do in the morning. Okay, I didn’t shave, but then that had only been a bi-weekly thing anyway.

Back in my room, I was wondering what I was going to wear, since almost none of my old clothes would really fit me, when Harvard spoke into my mind. —Your dam came in earlier and left some things in your chair.-

“My dam? Oh right, my moth…” That’s when what I had learned last night hit me. It seems being a girl wasn’t the only thing my subconscious was trying to hide from me. I sat down on the bed. I still felt a little of the anger I had felt last night, but mostly I was feeling hurt and confused. Kent was my dad? Did that mean I had to call him Dad from now on? What about my real dad? Did I have to start calling him Carl? What kind of person was Kent anyway? Yes, he had rescued me, and he seemed like a nice enough guy, but what did I really know about him? And then there was everything with Mom. She had lied to me. She was wrong to do that, wasn’t she? I just didn’t know. Maybe I wasn’t a trustworthy person.

-You’re sad again,- said Harvard, his brown eyes deep and sad. He came over and leaned against my side. —I love you.-

“I love you too, buddy. I just wish I knew why my life was so screwed up.”

-Maybe it only looks bad because you’re in the middle of it, but once you get out of it, everything will look different.-

“Just plow on through huh? Well, I suppose I don’t really have any other choice.”

I got up from the bed, getting a disgruntled look from Harvard as he no longer had me to lean against, and went to my padded desk chair. In the chair was a short stack of clothing with a yellow post-it note on top.

It read, Eden, I got you some clothes that should fit you for today, but we should probably go shopping soon to get you a new wardrobe. I called the Watchers this morning and talked to Steelfist; he said we could come in when you were ready, so I let you sleep in. I know you’re probably still upset about last night, but I hope you will give me a chance to explain my actions.
Love, Mom.

I really didn’t want to talk to Mom right then. My feelings were too mixed up. I wondered if I could just pretend to be sick. But no, Steelfist and Cardshark were waiting, and it wasn’t right to leave them hanging when I had said I would be there today. It looked like I was just going to have to go through with it. This whole being determined and facing the challenges head on and all that jazz really sucks when you had to do it instead of just thinking of it.

The clothes my mom had bought me weren’t as bad as they could have been. It wasn’t like she went out and got me bright pink clothes and skirts or anything. What she had ended up getting was a set of gym clothes in white and black. First there was a simple white sports bra that I got into with only a modicum of difficulty, and a pair of white panties (oh joy). Next was a black and white sleeveless shirt and a pair of what I guess was girl’s gym shorts that were so short I felt almost naked. Was there a reason I had to show off that much thigh? Finally was a pair of girl socks and sneakers, also in black and white.

I felt like I was dressing up for Halloween. My mind just couldn’t accept these clothes as really what I would wear and not as some kind of costume. I shrugged my shoulders and decided to just go with it. If my mind wanted to pretend it was Halloween and this wasn’t really happening, I would let it. Maybe I would even get free candy out of the deal. Hey, you never know, it could happen.

“Come on boy, let’s go see what the day brings.”

I silently made my way down the stairs. Really not wanting to have anyone notice I was up. Of course, with the way Harvard was thumping his way down, this really didn’t stand much of a chance.

Mom looked up from where she was grading papers on the couch and straightened when she saw me. I quickly diverted my eyes from hers. I didn’t want to see what emotions where showing there, nor have mine seen.

“Ad-Eden, I-I have some waffles ready to cook for breakfast; let me just…”

“No, that’s alright, I’ll do it myself,” I cut in, new girly voice sounding kind of hollow to my ears. I saw out of the corner of my eye my mother, who had half risen, sag back down.

I quickly went to the kitchen before any more could be said and worked on preparing my breakfast. Harvard alternately gave me and my stack of waffles a pleading look, and I shook my head with resolve.

“Not a chance, big guy. Last time I gave you waffles, you got syrup all in your fur, and I had to spend an hour bathing you.”

Harvard gave a disgruntled sigh and went over to his dog bowl. —Can I at least have something better than the chunks of cardboard you usually give me in the morning?-

I quick look in the fridge netted him some leftover rice and chicken from a few nights back. He seemed happy enough with it. At least he ate it in about two minutes, which I take to mean approval.

From where I was sitting at the kitchen table to eat my waffles, I could see my mom’s back. She seemed stiff, and I didn’t see her flipping much through the papers she was grading. I guess she was just as uncomfortable with the whole situation as I was. That was fine by me, since it was all her fault anyways. The silent tension between the two of us was finally broken as I was cleaning up my plate.

“If you’re ready, we can go ahead and leave. They said we should bring Harvard along with us.”

I grunted a reply and let Harvard out the door to do his business before we left. The first thirty minutes of the ride was in silence, with me only looking out the passenger side window. As was usual, Mom didn’t have any music playing. I had to wonder about that now. Did her not liking music have something to do with Kent? It seemed pretty likely.

My mom signaled a shift into the next lane, and after that was done finally said something. “Eden I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just…” she trailed off into silence, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“How could you do something like this to me?” I asked, “Do you not trust me?”

“No, honey, that’s not it at all. The truth is that I was ashamed of myself. I didn’t want you to know what a fool I was. I didn’t want you to know that your real father was a criminal who wasn’t even responsible enough to take care of himself. I wanted you to have Carl as your father so you could look up to a good decent man.”

“You were ashamed? I don’t get it. What would have made it so bad to tell me?” I asked in bewildered disbelief.

Mom kept her eyes on the road as she talked, as if she were afraid to see what I was thinking. “I was young when I met Kent, only a few years older than you are now. He had just graduated from Whateley, and he and some of his friends were mad for music. They had their own band and they would travel around to whatever gig they could get. I met Kent at a club he was playing at. Back then, I loved music and since my dad didn’t really care where I was at night as long as I brought home enough money to pay my ‘share’ of the rent, I was always in the new music scene. His music was hot. He wasn’t afraid to do new things, and he was openly a mutant. That carried a certain taboo, and all of us who thought we were daring wanted to be there.”

“I started to hang out with Kent and his other friends as often as I could, and before long Kent and I were an item. I told my dad to go to hell and traveled with Kent from then on. I suppose I was happy then. It all seemed like a big adventure. Kent and his band were starting to take off. There were a lot of people that wanted to rebel in some way and buying music by a mutant was a safe way to do that. Of course it also helped that his band, The Lampposts, were great at what they did,” said my mother, pausing for a second to drink some coffee from her thermos.

I saw her lips compress into a hard line as she continued. “And just as Kent was starting to become successful, he had to go and ruin everything with us. He had always been a partier, and he could drink with the best of them, but now he started getting new friends who introduced him to new ways of having fun. It wasn’t so bad right at first. He had some self control. I didn’t think anything of it, though I never really wanted to do any of the drugs myself. They made me feel too weird. I did plenty of partying though. But things started to change slowly. Kent became wilder and wilder. He started doing ‘pranks’ that got him in trouble with the law. Oh, his fans loved it. They thought it just showed how cool he was. Some of the other band members didn’t like what was happening, and some of them split. It was all downhill from there. The crimes and drugs and wild parties kept getting worse and worse. As much as I asked him to stop or cut back, he wouldn’t.”

Mom shot a quick glance at me, trying to see how I was taking this news. “Towards the end, things got bad. Kent got in trouble with some supervillains. I think it had something to do with devisor drugs, and they followed him back to where we were staying. Kent won the fight, but it was a close thing. Even that didn’t convince me to leave him. I still loved him and thought I could fix him. But once I found out I was pregnant, everything changed. I could put my own life in danger, but I couldn’t risk my child’s. I gave Kent an ultimatum, give up on the crime and get help with his problems, or I was taking our baby and leaving him for good. He said he would change, but he didn’t, so I left. He never came after me, never even tried,” Mom angrily swiped at her eyes where I could see some moisture forming.

I didn’t really know what to think of what she had told me. It was strange hearing this, the story of my origin. It was hard to believe it was really about my own mother. It didn’t sound anything like the person I knew. But it did explain some things about her. Like how she never wanted to listen to any music or why she was so hard on the subject of drugs. Many was the time she would warn me and my sister about how bad they were. But as interesting as her story was, it still didn’t explain why she didn’t tell me the truth, and I told her as much.

“Eden, like I said before, I was ashamed of myself. That’s the truth of the matter. Oh, I fooled myself by coming up with all kinds of reasons that sounded good at the time not to tell you, but when it comes right down to it, I was too ashamed of my own actions to want to face the consequences of them.”

“What were you ashamed about?” I asked, somewhat confused. “I can see Kent being ashamed, but not you.”

“I let love blind me to the truth of my own situation. I let my life follow someone else into the crapper. I got knocked up by a good for nothing drug addict who didn’t care for me or my child. I was the failure my father had always said I would be. I didn’t want to deal with all of that, so I never told you the truth about your father. That way I never had to explain what a failure I had been,” said my mother, bitter lines creasing her face.

“I still don’t understand. You made some mistakes, but that doesn’t make you a failure. You’re only a failure if you don’t learn from them. That’s what dad always says. Or are you ashamed of having me?”

“NO! I could never be ashamed of you! You are one of the best things that have ever happened in my life. Never think otherwise,” she sighed, “Maybe you are just too young to understand how much someone can regret something.”

“Maybe,” I said uncertainly. I didn’t really believe it though. I figured she was just being too hard on herself. I was still a little pissed and hurt by my parents not telling me, but I couldn’t hold on to my anger. Maybe I’m just too forgiving. I never really could hold a grudge, and right now I really wanted the loving comfort my parents could provide in dealing with all the crap that had been happening to me.

“Um, what are we going to tell Kelly?” I asked. The question was an olive branch of sorts, saying that lines of communication were open again between the two of us besides being a valid thing to ask.

“I think,” said my mom, pausing to consider for a moment, “That it should be up to you what and how much we tell your sister. I know your father would want us to be honest with her, but it should be your decision to make.”

I thought about not telling Kelly. She had already be upset about me turning into a girl, how much more so would she be if she found out we weren’t fully brother and sister? Uh, I mean sister and sister, damn it. But having just dealt with my parents never having told me the truth and the sense of betrayal that engendered, I knew it was best that we told her.

“I think we should tell her the truth, but I want to be the one to tell her; I owe her that,” I told Mom.

“Fair enough, but me and your father will be there if the two of you need us.”

For the rest of the journey to the Watchers HQ we talked of inconsequentials. It wasn’t that we didn’t have plenty of dire things that we could have talked about, it’s just that I feel having more than one important life altering conversations in a row is probably a bad habit. If you do it too much, you might wind up on Doctor Phil or something.

As we talked, I wondered if there was any truth to the old saying that things came in three’s. I had ended up having three major changes to my life yesterday. First, I woke up and discovered I was a mutant, then I got changed into a girl by some nutsos, and finally I find out the truth about my parents. I hoped the part where only three things happen is true; I don’t know if I could handle any more events turning my life upside down.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 10
 
As we pulled into the underground parking lot of the Watchers HQ, Harvard let me know that his bladder needed relief, and he wanted the door opened right away.

“Hold your horses big guy; you’ll get out just as soon as we park.”

-I’m not holding horses, I just need to go!-

I slid out of my seat as we parked and hurried around to the back to let my impatient friend out. I had barely gotten the door open when he was out and running back towards the entrance to the parking garage.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” I called as I hurried after him. I had just got to the entrance in time to see Harvard disappear into the wooded area that started at the base of the small mountain that the Watchers headquarters was located in. I sighed with frustration. It happened every time, without fail, if Harvard was in a new area he had to find just the right tree to do his business against, even if that meant exploring for a hundred yards.

I followed him into the trees hoping to regain sight of him soon enough to keep him out of trouble. It was a little eerie how, once you entered these woods, all the sound seemed to fall away from you. It was like the trees themselves were listening to every footstep you took.

“Okay, this isn’t at all creepy or anything. Maybe there needs to be some deep noted music playing to set the tone better,” I said sarcastically while wrapping my arms about myself. “Harvard, where did you go? We don’t have time for this!”

I heard a faint noise up and to my left, so I hurried in that direction thinking that I was going to strangle my dog when I found him, or at least withhold doggie biscuits for a while, which he seemed to think was just as bad.

As I pushed through the woods, the trees seemed to get closer together and their branches started trailing on me like the hands of old blind women. At last, I found Harvard. He had his leg cocked against a tree and an intent expression on his face.

“Finally, there you are Harvard. Did you really have to go that far just to pee on a stupid tree? This is a frickin forest after all. There are trees everywhere!”

Just then, one of the branches of the gnarled old tree he was doing his business against shot down and grabbed Harvard tightly around the middle! He gave a startled yelp of surprise at the sudden interruption of his concentration and struggled frantically in the tree's wooden grip.

Of course I didn’t just stand there; I ran to Harvard and tried my damnedest to get the branch, which was as tough as steel cables, unwrapped from around him. This might have been a technical mistake because it brought me within range of the other branches of the trees, and before you could say Treebeard, I was hanging upside down by my feet alongside Harvard.

“You really had to pick this tree to pee against, didn’t you? With all the trees in the forest you had to pick a frickin' Ent!”

Harvard just whined and struggled more in the tree's grip. Out of the foliage, another branch swung down, only this one seemed to have a large eyeball attached to the end of it. Okay, consider me freaked out. The eyeball moved around examining us from all angles, and after it seemed to be satisfied, a mechanical sounding voice seemed to come from the trunk of the tree.

“Intruders, identify yourselves.”

“I’m Emily Elizabeth, and this is my dog Clifford, only he’s on a diet, now let us the hell down!”

“Analyzing. Likelihood of deceptive answer ninety-two percent. Initiating alarm system.”

It was only ten minutes later that Steelfist showed up, a huge grin on his face. “I see you’re in a spot of trouble!” he yelled over the blaring of the siren.

I gave him my worst glare, all the while keeping my arms crossed over my chest. This was mostly done because it made me look less helpless and more in control of the situation, but it was also because my breasts felt weird while hanging upside down, and they seemed to stick out more.

“Do you suppose you could turn off that damn siren and let us down now?” I asked in as icy tone as I could manage.

“Cancel alarm program and release intruders,” Steelfist said to the open air, and with a thud, Harvard and I dropped to the leaf-strewn floor of the woods.

“I guess you couldn’t have told it to let us down gently, could you?” I said as I got to my feet and brushed the detritus of the forest floor off my clothes. Harvard just shook himself and stared balefully at the large twisted tree that had held him.

“Sorry, it seems to be a little touchy for some reason; usually it doesn’t just drop people,” said Steelfist, still grinning.

“What is it anyways? It looks like a tree but sounds like a robot.”

“Cyborg trees!” he said proudly. “I created them myself. This whole forest is full of them.”

“Cyborg trees? Really? You know that just sounds crazy, don’t you?

“You would be amazed how effective they are. Most people who hear about the forest on top of our base assume that they're some kind of magical trees and come prepared for that. No one expects cyborg trees,” Steelfist said, his deep voice sounding slightly hurt.

“Well you could at least warn visitors not to go into the forest. Spending ten minutes upside down with that alarm sounding off in my ears wasn’t fun, I can tell you.”

“There are signs posted every twenty feet or so all around the woods warning people to keep out.”

“Oh,” I said, a little less certainly. “Uh, I must have missed them somehow. Let’s go ahead and get out of here; these woods creep me out. Come on Harvard.”

I looked back towards Harvard, gesturing for him to hurry up and saw he had his leg cocked against the tree again.

“Harvard!”

The branches in the tree seemed to twitch as if they wanted to go on the attack again, but they stayed sill. Harvard finished up and, with ‘so there’ expression, kicked some dirt at the tree with his hind legs before trotting to keep up with us.

I shook my head in disbelief, “No one expects cyborg trees.”

It turned out there were signs posted all along the forest perimeter warning in big red letters not to enter, in three languages. Some of the signs even flashed with colored lights. Yes, I know, seems kind of hard to have missed them. My theory is that Steelfist pressed some button and they popped out of the ground just to make a fool of me. What? It could happen. Someone who thinks up cyborg trees has got to be twisted in the head anyways. Of course, my mom was not happy when she saw us.

“Eden William Oakson, what in the world do you think you were doing! You had me worried to death when the alarm went off. I thought for sure something terrible had happened to you!”

“I’m okay mom, really,” I said rolling my eyes some. “I just had an encounter with a tree, nothing to worry about.”

My mom then turned to Harvard. “And you! What do you think you are doing running off into the woods like that! I thought you were better trained! Are we going to have to start putting a leash on you to keep you out of trouble?”

Harvard hung his head at this tirade and crept over to my mom’s side, where he laid his head against her leg and gave a low, piteous whine. My mother immediately softened and started petting him.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

I swear Harvard winked at me while he was getting his ears fondled. Did I ever tell you how sneaky my dog is?

“Why don’t we go started on this testing,” I said. “I’m sure Steelfist has lots of other things he could be doing besides helping me with them, so I don’t want to use up his time.”

My mother quickly agreed, and Steelfist led us into the Watchers' official mutant testing center. I was happy to see that Cardshark was also there today. She was waiting for us when we got to the section of the base where the testing would take place.

“Hey Eden! How is it going today?” she said cheerfully and she even came over and gave me a hug.

If I had still been a boy, certain parts of me would have been ready to salute the flag pole after that. Luckily, that wasn’t a problem anymore, so all I had to show was a silly grin on my face.

“Uh, um, g-good, today is good,” I managed to get out, still lost in the feel of Cardshark’s breasts pressed against me.

Cardshark gave me a strange look over my stuttering but seemed to dismiss it. “We have three parts to the testing we are going to do today. First is the physical. This is running, weight lifting, that sort of thing, to see if your body has changed. We will also do a medical exam in this part. Next, we see about testing you for any powers. And finally is the written part where we test your mind. So to start off with, you’re going to see Dr. Mathous. He’s right down this hall here,” she said, showing me the way to the outer office of the doctor.

Dr. Mathous was an average looking fellow, maybe in his late thirties with black hair. He greeted me with a firm handshake and a warm smile.

“Good day Ms. Oakson, if you will come with me, we can start your examination. If you like, your mother can come with you or she can stay out in the waiting room, whichever you prefer.”

“I think I’ll be alright by myself,” I said and then followed him into his back room.

It was a typical medical room like I had seen whenever I had gone to the doctor before except for some odd kind of pedals or something on the end of one of those benches a patient lies on. He took my blood pressure and other vitals and asked me a series of questions. After that, we did an eye exam since that was obviously something that might be different, what with me having glowing copper eyes. My eyes were pretty normal except for the fact that I had a kind of night vision. Dr. Mathous seemed to think that my eyes shouldn’t work like that since they actually glowed instead of just reflecting light like a cat’s might. He mumbled something about rods and cones and took a few pictures for the records.

The hearing test went about the same way; everything was normal. He drew some blood from me to do some testing on, and I thought that was all for this part of the examination, but he gestured for me to get on the table with the pedal things at the end and asked me to undress. I looked at the stirrups with dawning apprehension as I figured out what they were used for.

“Uh-uh, no way, there is no way I am getting in that thing, you damn pervert!” I was out of that room as fast as my feet could carry me and slammed the door behind me. I think I might have hit the doctor as he tried to follow me, but I didn’t care.

“Eden what’s wrong!” cried my mother as I stormed out into the waiting room.

“He wants, he wants to, he’s a damn pervert is what he is,” I said in indignation as a shudder at the thought of what he wanted me to do went through me.

I light bulb seemed to go off over my mother’s head and she got a sympathetic, if slightly amused, look on her face. “Dear, this is something every woman has to go through. It is unpleasant but necessary.”

“Bu-But..!”

“No buts dear, your sister has had to go through this before and if she can do this it won’t kill you to go through with it as well.”

I scowled at her. I was just glad that Steelfist and Cardshark had obviously gone to do other things while waiting for the medical part of my tests to be finished. I could just imagine Cardshark laughing at me being put in this situation, and as for Steelfist still being here… No, best not to ever thing about how embarrassing that would be. Harvard was studiously pretending to be asleep while lying down at my mother’s feet. He obviously knew when the best part of valor was to pretend to be a lump on the floor with no opinions on any subject. I scowled at him too just on general principle. Was he snoring or was that a laugh? Hmm, must plot revenge.

I stalked back into the other room where Dr. Mathous was rubbing at a swollen spot on his forehead. I knew I should have felt sorry for giving him that bump on the head, but I didn’t in the least.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said grimly.

It was humiliating and cold and a little painful, and I was really wishing I had slammed the door harder by the time Dr. Mathous was done. One day, I swore, I was going to find Bathrobe Dude, and I was going to do some pretty unpleasant things to him as a thank you present for what he had done to me.

Dr. Mathous’s warm smile was slightly dimmed as he gave us the news of what he had learned while holding an ice pack to his head. “Medically speaking, aside from the eyes, Eden seems to be a normal young woman. You can probably expect her period to start sometime within the next month and…”

I briefly choked on the air as my windpipe constricted at his words. Period? Period! Oh sweet baby Jesus, I had not thought about that. It was rather unpleasant news to be confronted with, and I again wished I had slammed the door harder in the good doctor’s face.

Mom patted my hand as I regained my breath and whispered that it would be okay and she would tell me everything I needed to know later. The doctor went on with his explanations after that, but I didn’t really pay attention. Most of what he said had no real meaning to anyone that wasn’t a doctor anyway. Period. Oh man, this was so wrong. Now I wished I hadn’t made fun of my sister when she first started having hers. Karma can be such a bitch sometimes.

I was lost in thought when Cardshark showed up. It turned out it was time for some of the more physical tests. She led us down several different hallways and one elevator to what had to be one of the weirdest gyms I had ever seen. There was what I took for a bench press machine that had thousand pound weights on it, and there was a really heavy duty treadmill that looked like three people could run on it at the same time. It was only after gaping at all the strange equipment that I noticed Steelfist was in the room as well.

Steelfist chuckled. “It’s not your typical gym, is it?”

“Not unless you’re Bruce Wayne. What is all this stuff?”

“This is where the Watchers work out; some of us need special equipment if we are going to get a real workout. But don’t worry, regular people can use it too. And I, with my lovely assistant Miss Cardshark, will be your torturer, I mean tester for everything we do in here. So are you ready to feel the burn?” he said with an evil grin.
 

~o~O~o~
 
“Okay,…this…totally…sucks.” I wheezed while on the oversized treadmill. I had only been going for fifteen minutes, and already I was getting winded. This was NOT what I was used to. I was used to being able to go on for hours. It wasn’t fair that along with my normal body my ability to run was also taken away from me. That was something I had worked at for years to get to the point I had been at.

I went on for twenty more minutes, but that was just determination pushing me, and I had to stop since my body was starting to give out. This really sucked, and I wasn’t going to stand for it. I was going to get this new body into shape if it was the last thing I did.

The tests so far had been grueling, and I was finding that my new body didn’t do as well as I had hoped. Totally not fair. When you became a mutant, weren’t you supposed to be able to dead lift a ton and have reflexes like a cat? I dead lifted less than a girl my height and weight should have been able to and as for reflexes...

They had had some kind of obstacle course set up. At first, it had been like one of those fun houses set up at the fair, moving floors and stairs that would shift under your feet. But it got progressively harder as you went on, with padded poles randomly shooting out from the floor, ceiling, and walls along with areas where you could only stand for a little while before the floor dropped on you.

My performance was a little bit under what a base line should be able to do. So taking into account my newness to my body, I didn’t do too badly they told me. Tell that to my backside. I might have more padding back there then I had before, but it still hurt when I fell on it, and I fell on it quite a few times going through that obstacle course.

It didn’t help that Harvard got farther than me on it; I’m still not sure if having four legs instead of two was a help or a hindrance. The mutt had insisted on getting to have a turn at the obstacle course, and since he had been being fairly good and probably needed to run off some energy, I let him give it a try.

I was feeling rather miserable by the time I was finished. Miserable and sweaty. It’s funny, but before my little gender bend, when I worked out, being sticky and sweaty wasn’t as noticeable as it seemed now. Now the sweat made my skin feel all dirty. I was overjoyed when Cardshark told me I could use the showers to clean up. Even though it meant I would have to get back into dirty clothes afterwards.

The showers were in a large open area that was attached to a good sized changing room. All in all, it wasn’t that much different from the boy's changing room back at school except maybe a little bigger and cleaner. I felt vaguely disappointed that the stage for so many of my fantasies was so ordinary.

Most of the red painted lockers had name tags on them, but there was one bank of them that seemed to be open. These had keys stuck in the locks with a rubbery strap attached to them that was obviously meant to go around your wrist while you were in the shower. I gratefully stripped down and shoved my clothes into the locker before heading towards the showers, grabbing one of the little hotel-like soaps they had in a tray on the wall along the way.

The shower felt great. I closed my eyes and stood under the showerhead, letting the warm water massage my sore body but remembering enough not to get my long hair wet. I tried to clear my mind of all thoughts and just enjoy the hot rain of water. Considering everything that had happened, I decided I was going to do my best to enjoy the little things in life to their fullest; after all, you never knew when something was going to happen that turned everything upside down. Who knows, next week I might wake up as a fifty foot tall Japanese lizard who had whole the whole city population running away in terror; it seemed just as likely as turning into a girl had been.

I suddenly heard the sound of another shower turning on. My eyes shot open, and I whipped about to see another woman in the showers beside me. A very naked woman. She was a tall black lady, well endowed in the breast department, with thick dreadlocks held back with a white band. Naked woman. Woman naked. Oh my God. Quick hide your erection! Wait, you don’t have that any more. What do I do? Do I say hi? Do I ignore her? What is the proper etiquette for the girls shower?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I just got off shift, thought I would have the showers to myself,” said the black woman.

“Aurraugh,” oh, that was smooth. First naked woman you ever see in your life and you sound like something the cat dragged home. Wait, isn’t that supposed to be looked like something the cat dragged home? Never mind, more important things to think about. Boobies! No, keep your mind focused. Don’t look down.

“Are you alright?” she asked with the rise of a quizzical eyebrow.

Think! Damn you, think! “Ah, yeah sorry, bit of water went down the wrong way. I, ah, thought I would be alone in here too.”

She smiled at me. “I don’t think I have seen you here before. You look a little young to be a new Footie.”

“Um, I’m here to get some testing down. Cardshark and Steelfist just put me through the wringer with the physical aspect,” I said. I wasn’t really sure what to do with my eyes. Did I look at her? Did I look away? What was I supposed to do? I decided to keep them on her eyes while we talked. Hopefully, I wouldn’t give away that I wasn’t a real girl.

“Ah, that explains it. I should have guessed, what with your eyes. So you’re a new mutant? Do you have any cool powers?” she broke eye contact and took a bottle of liquid soap and squirted it onto one of those poof things.

Right soap, I had some soap too. I turned my eyes away from her, not without some regret, and started to scrub myself with the soap bar. When I rubbed it over my nipples, they were hard little nubs that tingled pleasantly. I also felt a hot little warmth at the bottom of my stomach. Was this what it felt like to be excited as a girl? “Yes, I’m a mutant, but I don’t really know about any powers,” I said, not really wanting to explain what I did know about my abilities to her.

“Well, I’m sure Cardshark and Steelfist will get you sorted out,” she said, then went silent as she washed her body.

I hurriedly soaped up my body, then rinsed it off, occasionally sneaking glances at the naked beauty beside me. My feelings were mixed as I hastened out of the shower and into the locker room to change into my unfortunately still dirty clothes. I was relieved to get out of there. I had been certain that at any second she would just know that I wasn’t used to being a girl or that I thought she was smoking hot and she would start screaming and yelling that I was a pervert. On the other hand, it was my first chance to see a real live naked girl, well, if I didn’t count myself at least.

She came out of the showers just as I was finished getting dressed and I snuck a few last looks at her putting her clothes on as I left. I knew what I was going to be dreaming about tonight!

I hurried to Cardshark’s wizard lab or whatever you call it, where I was supposed to hook back up with my mom and Cardshark and start on the powers portion of my testing. I must have had a silly grin on my face, because they gave me some strange looks. I tried to compose myself, but I’m not sure how well I did since my mother’s expression didn’t change much.

“Eden,” my mom said, then paused as if she wasn’t really sure of her own words. “Would you like to meet up with Kent after your testing is done? He’s here meeting with Sergeant Earth Mover about what happened yesterday and your father thought… That is your father and I thought you might want to get a chance to talk with him. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she hastily added.

Is there some kind of universal law that anytime I start to feel cheerful, something bad has to come along and ruin it? Well, maybe not bad as much as complicated. Either way, the happiness I had been feeling since leaving the showers was definitely killed. In fact, it was taken out back, force to dig its own grave, and given its last cigar. Did I really want to see Kent again? I could just say no and never have anything to do with him. I could pretend that last night had never happened. That dad was my real dad and I had never heard of Kent. Did I want that? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have anything to do with him either.

“D-do I have to decide right now?” I asked a little uncertainly.

“No, you can wait and decide later,” my mom said lightly. I could tell she was trying not to influence me and I was glad of that. I was confused enough without getting pressure from my mom.

“Right, then…later,” hey, that was me, putting the pro in procrastination. “So what about these tests?”

Cardshark cleared her throat. “Yes, I am going to go through a number of magical tests since you have already showed some signs of wizard talent. First, I want you to step into the pentagram.”

I stepped into the pentagram and waited, not really sure what to expect.

Cardshark sorted through a large stack of cards she kept in an unadorned wooden box until she found one to her liking. She then muttered over it, flicked it once with her finger generating a bell like sound, then flung it at me. It dissipated into a mist just like the card from yesterday had done except this time the cloud of purplish vapor grew, traveling back along the path of its flight to Cardshark and forwards towards me until there was a smoky band connecting me to Cardshark.

Well, almost connecting us. The cloud stopped a few inches from me and seemed to roil expectantly. How a bit of smoke could look expectant I don’t know, but it did. I guess magic is just freaky like that.

“Do you, Eden William Oakson, give me your permission to perform my arcane arts on you?” Cardshark asked in a distinctly formal tone.

“Uh, I guess so?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes or no please.”

“Yes, yes I do,” I said a bit nervously. I wasn’t volunteering to be turned into a toad was I?

Cardshark looked at the cloud, expression a little puzzled, then abruptly asked as if just remembering something. “Uh, you haven’t had your period yet have you?”

I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. “I have been a girl for less than two days. What do you think?”

“Right,” she said, then turned to my mother. “Do you, Veronica Oakson, give me your permission to perform my arcane arts on your daughter?”

“Yes,” said my mother, sounding less nervous then I had. Well, she wasn’t facing possible toadhood, so I guess she could afford to be.

The purple smoke band surged forward and made contact with me and… seemed to do nothing. I checked my hands anyway just to make sure they hadn’t suddenly become green and webbed. I seemed to be perfectly fine except for an itch behind my left ear that I absently scratched at.

I cautiously waved my other hand through the smoke band and watched as it quickly reformed.

“Stop that, you’ll muddle the connection,” Cardshark warned. “Now, I want you to close your eyes and try to still your thoughts.

Still my thoughts? I tried my best but it was about as effective as if she had asking me not to think of pink elephants. My mind was full of pink elephants doing the tango when Cardshark spoke next. Hey, if you’re going to not think of pink elephants, you might as well not think of pink elephants doing something interesting.

“I’m going to do something that might make you feel weird; don’t be concerned,” said Cardshark.

The itch behind my ear seemed to intensify and I tried to reach up to scratch it, only to find my arm wouldn’t move. “Cawdsawk was go’n on!”

“Calm down, I’m just using your body for a moment, don’t get too agitated or the spell will break,” Cardshark said in a strained voice.

My eyes opened and I saw my hands rise. I was going to freak out, there was only so much I could take, especially with my nerves shot to shit from yesterday, but I suddenly felt a very strange sensation. It wasn’t anything physical. It was as if there was some kind of warmth inside me, only it wasn’t really warmth. Hell, it wasn’t even really inside me, only it was in some strange way. I felt myself start to pull on this energy and in my hands a light appeared. It started off pretty dim and had a faint reddish orange color but steadily grew larger and brighter. It was about the size of a beach ball and as bright as a spot light when it went out, and I seemed to stop feeling that strange warmth inside me.

I gained control of my body again and I blinked my eyes a few times, clearing the purple after images from my vision. “What was that?” I exclaimed, my voice a little squeaky.

“That was a basic spell to summon light. I was testing your magic to see how much Essence you had available.”

“Essence?” I asked, puzzled. Wasn’t that some kind of perfume? Wasn’t there a perfume commercial with models in togas dancing with cats while someone whispered ‘Essence’ over and over again? At least it was something weird like that; it was a perfume commercial after all.

“Essence is what powers magic. There are all kinds of ways to collect it. But since you have wizard talent thanks to your mutation, you kind of generate it on your own. You’re about at the high end of wiz two,” said Cardshark.

“Is that very high?” I asked.

“The scale goes from zero to seven, seven being the highest. You won’t be riding any zombie dinosaurs anytime soon, but you’re not bad. You’re way better off than any baseline wizard around, at least when it comes to being able to generate Essence.”

Cool. I was a little disappointed that I wasn’t the super ultra mega powerful wizard who could blow up mountains with a single spell, but being able to do magic at all was a step up from where I was before my eyes changed. Besides, being the world’s most powerful mage was probably a lot more trouble than it was worth.

“What can a wizard really do anyway?” I asked curiously.

“It’s kind of like science in some ways, you have basic laws you have to follow, but if you work with those laws and know the right way to do it, magic can do practically anything, in theory at least. When it comes to practice, it generally isn’t as easy as all that. Don’t expect to be able to do what you read about in comics,” explained Cardshark.

“Well, can you at least tell me how it works?”

She rolled her eyes. “Good goddess, again that’s like asking how science works. There are all kinds of different paths in magic, each working in a different way. One of the things they do have in common, though, is that you need Essence if you want to do anything. When you get to Whateley, you will learn all you could hope to. That is if you are going to Whateley, of course,” she gave my mother a questioning look.

“Most likely, yes. We want to look into it a bit more, but we will probably be sending her there,” said my mother.

I fought back the urge to do the wild monkey dance. I was going to be going to mutant high. This was so cool! Heh, I wondered if I would need a costume. I thought of all the costumes I had seen superheroes wearing. Tights were definitely right out, but maybe a cape? As I was mussing, an annoying part of my mind tapped me on my mental shoulder and pointed out that I would not be wearing the costumes of the muscular and dashing male supers, but the ones that the beautiful and vivacious females would be wearing. A mental inventory of the female superheroes costumes I remembered returned a rather disturbing trend towards skin tight bodysuits and what would be described as lingerie if it wasn’t worn by someone fighting crime. I cringed back from the idea. No thank you, you would not be seeing me in something like that!

“I have a couple more things I want to try out; they aren’t really needed for you testing but they should tell you more about your power,” said Cardshark, interrupting my thoughts.

I nodded, just as curious about my new powers as anybody.

“Okay the first thing we’ll do is see what kind of sight you have. For most people, the magical sight is basically the same, seeing magical energies, spell forms and the like, sometimes seeing ley lines. There are plenty of people whose sight is a little different though. They may see in to the astral plane, or see through glamours to the true heart of things, or spiritual energies, or any number of other ways. If we figure out what your sight is like, it might give us a clue to any aspects of your magic.”

She rummaged around in her cluttered shelves until she came back with two small cut crystal bottles, one having what looked like an open eye carved into it and the other a closed one.

“I want you to take these,” she handed me the bottles, “and step into the pentagram.”

“Do you do everything in this pentagram?” I grumbled while doing so.

“A pentagram is the magical equivalent of safety glasses and a hard hat. I always use one when I am able to. Now take the bottle with the open eye and put a drop in each eye. You can set the other bottle down on the ground,” she said, as I fumbled with the bottles, trying to open one while juggling the other.

I was greeted with the sharp smell of pine when I opened it. The lid of the small bottle ended up having an eye dropper in it, so using that, I leaned back my head and put one drop of the clear liquid in each eye. Well, I tried to at least; I kept missing my eye, but eventually I did get it.

My vision was watery for a moment and I blinked rapidly to clear it. The first thing I noticed was that everything looked to be lit up. No, looking closer I saw that everything wasn’t glowing, but instead seemed to be filled with glowing symbols. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed intensely bright light, but it seemed to wink out when I turned my head to look in its direction. Instead, what I ended up looking at was Harvard, who strangely enough was the only thing that didn’t have glowing symbols in him. I rolled my eyes at him. Like I wouldn’t figure out that he was the thing that had been glowing so brightly, what with him being the opposite now. He just winked at me. I was going to have to ask him what was up with that later.

“What do you see?” asked Cardshark.

“I think I have seen like this before. Everything is full of glowing symbols or something.”

Cardshark frowned. “I’m not sure what that means, but then I don’t know what all the different kinds of sight are like. Are you sure you’re not seeing a glow of magic around some things? If you sight was the most typical kind, there are several objects in this room that would seem to glow to you.”

“No everything is glowing, and there are definitely symbols or letters or whatever inside them,” I held up the crystal bottle to get a better look at the symbols floating in it. The more I looked, the more symbols I could see. I seemed to be seeing deep into it but at the same time I didn’t see any further than the thickness of the bottle. I tore my eyes away from the entrancing vision and back to Cardshark. “Lots of symbols.”

Cardshark shook her head. “Well, like I said there are lots of different ways in which the sight can manifest, though this is a new one for me. Hmm, maybe it has something to do with runes? You did mention drawing something in the mud before it came to life and attacked you. Is there anything else that you notice as different?”

“No, just the symbols. Uh, I take the other eye drops to turn it off right? It’s kind of hard to see things this way.”

“Yes, one drop in each eye, and please try not to miss this time. I had to spend two hours doing spell work to make it.”

This time the bottle had a soothing fragrance to it, maybe lavender or one of those floral scents. I never was really big on smelling the flowers so I guess it could have been anything. I tried my best not to waste any of the liquid as I put it in my eyes, but I still missed a few times. I heard Cardshark sigh at my ineptitude.

When I could see again, everything was back to normal. I picked up the other bottle and handed both of them back to Cardshark. “So what do we have next?” I asked.

“Next, I want you to look at some runes in one of my books. I don’t know much about runes or runic magic, so I don’t really have much on it. It seems that your magic might lay in that direction,” she explained as she sorted through a large stack of books in one corner. She finally came up with a large dusty tome with a black leather cover and an intimidating looking lock keeping it closed.

“About all that I do know is that runic magic is related to nomentheurgy somehow; I think I have even heard them used interchangeably a few times, but that might have just been because the person talking was just as ignorant as I am,” she said as she set the book down on a table she probably used as a work bench. She pressed her thumb to the lock and with a small pop and tiny flash of light, it unlocked itself.

“Can I get out of this pentagram now?” I asked.

“Oh sure, there shouldn’t be anything dangerous about what we are doing now; I’m just going to have you look at some pictures of runes in this book and tell if you sense anything.”

She made room for me at the table as she rifled through the pages trying to find the one she wanted.

“Here it is, look at these two runes and tell me what you think.”

I look down at two of the kind of symbols I had been seeing lately. My eye was drawn to the first one, and everything around me seemed to go still, almost in slow motion. I looked deep into the rune in a way I can’t really describe. There was more there on the page than just an inked in symbol; it had the quality of another dimension. I felt like a cartoon character would feel if it suddenly went from its own two-dimensional world into our three-dimensional one. I didn’t just see it, I was Seeing it in a way that felt totally foreign but at the same time exactly right.

I reached out and brushed my finger gently against the rune. I knew. I knew what this rune meant. It was a rune of fire. It wasn’t like reading a word or recognizing a letter. It was as if I knew with all my heart what this fire was. I could feel its warmth, smell the hot scent of its smoke. I knew what was to consume a fuel and turn it into more flame, to breathe in the oxygen. I Knew.

Everything around me was still as if it was in slow motion, so the exclamations of surprise and startlement seemed to take minutes as flame blossomed from the page. The small flower of flame danced on the book, its hunger reaching out to consume what it could.

But as my mother rushed towards me to jerk me away and Cardshark to try and do something about the fire my gaze was already traveling to the next rune, and I Knew it as well. I felt is chill in my bones, saw its crystalline structure form, and smelled the scent of ice on the air. It too had a hunger. It sought the warmth, it leached it away and left cold stillness in its wake. It was the rune of frost.

I snapped out of it as the book and part of the table were covered with ice crystals, snuffing out the flame in the process. Mom clutched at me, and Cardshark stared in amazement at her work bench.

“Uh, oops?”

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Pmanpman and Rozarius for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 10
 

“My book,” Cardshark said in a sad tone.

“Sorry,” I said a little muzzily. I was still a bit out of it and shook my head to bring the world back into focus. “Is it badly damaged?”

Cardshark tried to pick up her book, but the leather-bound volume was frozen to the table. She put on a lighthearted tone that I thought was a little forced and said, “Oh, don’t worry too much; it’s a tough old book, and a few char spots and water marks won’t hurt it too badly. I’ll just get Steelfist to bring up a blow-dryer when he comes to administer the mental tests. I think we’re done testing your magic. I’ll leave it for the experts at Whateley to figure out.”

I felt bad for damaging her book; despite what she might say, I could see I did a number on it. But even that feeling of guilt couldn’t completely override a feeling of contentment that seemed to suffuse my body. It was almost like the feeling I would get after a really good run.

“We’ll pay for any damage she might have done,” put in my mother with a resigned sigh, like she wanted to be annoyed with me but knew it wasn’t my fault.

“No really, don’t worry about it. It was just a basic magical primer. It’s no big deal.”

“What happened anyway?” I asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Like I said, I don’t know much about runic magic. I had expected you to maybe be able to read it or recognize it somehow. I wasn’t expecting what we got.” She shook her head. “That will teach me not to trifle with forces beyond my ken,” she sighed and went to the phone hanging on one wall to get in touch with Steelfist.

“Hey Steely, Eden is ready for the written tests. Yeah. And I need you to bring up a blow-dryer. Why do you have to assume it was an accident? Okay, yes it was, but there’s no reason to just assume it like that! Fine, I’ll see you in a few.”

Steelfist arrived, blow-dryer in hand, a few minutes later. He was obviously trying hard not to laugh at Cardshark’s predicament, and after giving her the blow-dryer had my mother, Harvard and I follow him out of the room.

Out in the hallway Steelfist dropped all attempts to hide amusement and I looked at him questioningly. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh you would have to know our Cardshark, there have been more mishaps in that lab than I care to count. It’s gotten to be a bit of a running joke, and with her being one of the youngest and newest on the team, it’s my job to tease her mercilessly.”

“Well, this time it was my fault, so I guess you don’t need to tease her about it,” I said.

“You’re taking all the fun out of this, you know. Come on, let’s get you started on those tests.”

The next few hours weren’t all that interesting. Steelfist took me into a small room and put me through a number of tests, some verbal, some written, all boring. It turned out I didn’t gain any great mental abilities along with the magic, which was slightly disappointing. It would have been cool to suddenly be super smart, but then, with my luck, I would have ended up with a giant, pulsing forehead as well, so it was probably all for the best. It did turn out that my score for spatial abilities went down when compared to tests I had taken previously for school. Steelfist seemed very interested in this and muttered something about neurological differences in gender.

I had been putting it off long enough. Since this was the last of the tests, I knew I had to decide if I was going to meet with Kent or not. As far as I could tell, both options sucked. Either I meet with Kent and risk the chance he wasn’t the guy I thought he was, or I don’t meet with him and probably regret it for the rest of my life. I could have agonized about it for an hour, but since I didn’t have the time, I decided to use the method that had never failed me in hard situations, Eeny Meeny Miny Moe. After the obligatory toe catching and extortion, I ended up with the left hand, representing meet him, as the winner, and I only had to cheat a little bit at the end to get it that way.

“Mom, I’ve decided I’m going to see him,” I told my mother.

She let out a breath, in either acceptance or disappointment-I couldn’t tell which, before turning to Steelfist, who was just saving the results of my testing on a computer.

“Um, Steelfist, would it be alright if Eden and I waited somewhere private for Kent to show up?” asked my mother.

Steelfist nodded soberly and showed us to a well appointed conference room done up in a business casual style. I had to wonder what Steelfist thought of this whole situation he was being witness to. He probably thought it came straight out of a soap opera, either that or out of Jerry Springer. ‘Transsexuals who want to meet with their long lost father who abandoned them at birth! With paternity tests! Today, on the Jerry Springer show!’ I snorted, yeah that was about the state of it.

Once Steelfist left, quietly closing the door behind him, my mother turned to me, a serious expression on her face. “Eden, I know you have decided to do this and I won’t interfere, but I want you to be careful. I don’t want you to let this man hurt you like he did to me. He can be a very charming person; don’t get your hopes to high about him.”

What could I say to that? I just nodded my head and sat down in one of the chairs. Mom kept on her feet, probably too nervous or upset to sit down. She always paced at home too when something was wrong.

I was nervous about meeting with Kent again. What were you supposed to say to the guy that suddenly turned out to be your father? So you’re the guy that impregnated my mother, nice to meet you? Hey! I have your nose? I snorted with discomfort. Not that I could have his nose anymore anyway.

The door across the room opened, and I turned to look at it. My mother stopped her pacing and did likewise. Kent stood there, looking rather nervous and uncomfortable. His eyes darted from me to my mother and back again before he finally said something.

“Eden, it’s good to see you again. I’m glad you let me talk to you. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what to say. A few seconds went by in silence before I finally got my voice to work again.

“Nah, it’s not that bad. I talk to guys who turn out to be my long lost father all the time. You should have seen the last one, he had a breathing problem and kept saying ‘search your feelings, you know it to be true’.”

Kent smiled at my weak joke, and I felt the tension ease some. “So what do we do now?” I asked him.

“I’m not sure, I don’t…there is so much I wanted to say, but I can’t remember any of it now.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” I said, trying to think of something to talk about. “Uh, what were you and the Sergeant talking about? That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s no secret. We were discussing the events from yesterday and what the two of us had managed to find out. A bit of intelligence sharing.”

That stirred my interest. “What did y’all find out?”

“Not as much as I would have liked. It seems that the cult first sprung up in New England about twenty or twenty-five years ago. They kept a real low profile for that kind of group, so it’s hard to tell exactly. They started really attracting attention about five years ago when they went on a killing spree. There were thirty-two deaths that the authorities are sure they had a hand in. Most of the victims were… altered in horrible ways. The sergeant thinks they were perfecting the ritual they used on you. If that is the case, you have no idea how lucky you were to survive it.” He looked slightly green. “The remains of the victims usually had to be destroyed and anything they might have contacted sealed up at ARC. Sometimes it was hard for the authorities to know if what they were destroying was truly dead or not.”

I swallowed hard, glad for the first time that I was just changed into a girl; the thought of what might have happened…well, I was going to try and not think those thoughts. I wanted to be able to sleep tonight.

“Anyways, the whole thing was thought to have been shut down last year when STAR League executed a raid on their compound. It looks like it wasn’t as successful as was thought.”

We both mulled that over in silence for a moment until Mom interrupted it.

“Eden, we need to leave pretty soon if we are going to beat the traffic,” my mother reminded me.

“But…”

“What if I drive Eden home? That will give us a chance to talk on the way,” said Kent.

“I don’t think…”

“You can follow right behind us; Eden won’t be out of your sight.”

I looked at my mom hopefully. She seemed indecisive, torn between conflicting emotions, but finally she nodded her assent. “Eden, if at any time you want to get back in the car with me, have Kent pull over and I’ll get you,” she gave Kent a hard look. “You make sure nothing happens.”

We were mostly silent as the four of us made our way to the parking garage. Mom was unhappy, I could tell. I’m not sure what dad said to get her on board with the idea of me having contact with Kent, but I could tell she still didn’t like it. Kent seemed to be as nervous as I was. The ice that had been broken when we met thirty minutes ago seemed to have reformed. Harvard seemed to be the only one that was okay. He trotted along at my side, occasionally taking in the surroundings or sniffing at the ground.

When we got to the garage, Kent pressed the remote for his car and a cherry red convertible of some kind chirped merrily back at him. Mom stopped and gave me a quick but hard hug.

“I’ll be right behind you if you need me,” she said.

“Right mom, I’ll be okay,” I suddenly felt very unsure of the whole situation. Did I really want to go for a three hour drive with a man I hardly knew, even if he was my real father? I thought about telling mom I had changed my mind and I would be going back with her, but I took hold of my resolve. I wasn’t going to run away from this, even if that was what I really wanted to do deep down.

I turned to Kent and gave him a weak smile. “I call shotgun.”

He smiled tentatively back. “Good, because there aren’t any other seats anyway.”

-Where will I sit?- asked Harvard suspiciously.

“You’re going to have to ride home with mom big guy,” I told him while I fondled his ears.

-I’m supposed to be with you,- he said sternly.

I guess the ear rub didn’t do the trick. “Listen buddy, there is no room for you, so you are going to have to ride with mom; there is no way around this and you won’t be that far from me.”

-I don’t like…- Harvard started to say before suddenly stopping, or at least I think he stopped. For a moment, I thought I heard him say further or something. But it had been barely a whisper, and the voice hadn’t been quite right.

***...wher...athe...elp...***

There it was again, words just almost on the threshold of hearing in my mind.

-Right, I’ll see you later then!- said Harvard quickly before hurriedly trotting off to my mom’s SUV.

Okay, that was weird. I shook my head. My whole life was weird; my dog acting strange should be the least of my worries. I turned my attention back to Kent.

“Uh, nice car,” I said as I slid into the passenger side, the soft leather of the seats seeming to mold itself to my body.

“It’s not mine; I just rented it when I landed at Hobby airport. It’s the newest Ferrari. You, uh, like cars then?” asked Kent as he, with a soft roar, started the engine.

“No, not all that much.” It had always been Brook who liked cars. As far as I was concerned, as long as it wasn’t a piece of shit and could get you from one place to another, they were all pretty much the same.

“Oh. Uh hey, I have something I want to give you!” Kent awkwardly reached into his pocket and brought out a rounded rectangular case and handed it to me.

I examined it for a moment before figuring out how to open it. Inside was a pair of thin, black-rimmed glasses. “Uh, I don’t really need glasses; my eyes are just fine,” I told him, a little puzzled by the gift.

“These are special glasses; here let me show you,” he reached over and plucked the glasses out of their case before he put them on himself. “Notice anything different?”

It took me a moment to figure it out. “Your eyes! They stopped glowing!” And they had; his normally golden glowing eyes looked, well, not really normal, the color wasn’t something you would come across every day, but they at least didn’t shout ‘hey I’m a freak!’ as loud as they could.

“Right, since we both seem to have the same problem I thought they might be helpful for you,” he said as he handed the glasses back to me.

“Thanks!” I said as I placed them on my own face and turned down the car visor to see how they looked. They weren’t that bad; they made my new features look slightly more intelligent. Though, just like with Kent, there was no disguising the fact that my copper eyes weren’t part of the standard model.

“The glasses are an old pair of mine. I haven’t had a chance yet to order one’s for you from the devisor that makes them and, uh, I kind of wanted you to have something that was connected to me.”

Great, another awkward pause, this was getting annoying. I decided that I needed to just grab the bull by the horns and stop tip-toeing around the subject.

“Why didn’t you go after mom when she left?” There, I had asked it, there was no going back now.

Kent took a deep breath, but he must have been ready for the question because he didn’t pause before answering. “It’s because I’m not a good person, Eden. Or at least, I wasn’t. I hope I have changed since back then. When your mother left, I was sure that she would be back. When a few days went by with no sign of her, I decided I didn’t need her, that I could get any woman I wanted, and it was her loss, not mine. I wrote her off as not worth it, her… and you. I was wrong, but it took me years before I figured it out. I did need you and her. She had been the one thing that kept me from going too far, that put some restraint on me. After she left, I had none. I did whatever I wanted, whatever felt good. I did things that I’m not proud of. Hell, it would be easier to list the number of things I was proud of doing during that time than the things I wasn’t. The list would be much shorter.”

I took in what he had said. I hadn’t been sure what kind of answer I was going to get from him. I thought, or well hoped is more like it, that there was some kind of good reason for what he did. That mom had been wrong in the way she described it and Kent had some kind of secret super hero-ish reason for abandoning us, to hide us from his enemies, or to act in accordance with some ancient prophecy. I thought I might hear that he had thought I would be better off away from him and so he let mom go. I had even been prepared to hear that he and mom had broken up and it was pretty much like any of the other kids a school whose parents had split. This unvarnished account, bearing out everything that mom had told me, I wasn’t really expecting.

I didn’t know how to respond to it, being told that my real father hadn’t cared about me, that he didn’t even try to find me. Growing up, I had always had parents that I knew loved me. This was something I could always rely on, no matter what happened. In fact, I realized now that I had never really been exposed to a situation where someone I was close to just didn’t care about me. Only come to find out I had, before I was even a year old.

“Why did you change your mind about wanting anything to do with me?” I asked, holding back tears. Damn girl hormones.

“I got so low, I had to look up to see the gutter. Almost all of my friends had abandoned me, and I was on the fast track to wind up dead in some ally from an overdose of devisor drugs, and no one was going to be around that cared a damn if I did. One day, I finally realized the truth, that I wanted more from life than what I had, that I wanted to be able to meet my eyes in the mirror again. And what’s more, I realized that something was missing in my life, you.”

Damn eyes dripping all over the place. I wiped at them with the palm of my hand.

“So I got myself cleaned up, went to rehab, did the whole twelve step program. I found out that a few, not many, but a few, of the friends I had thought I lost were willing to give me a second chance. I managed to track down you and Veronica and I found out she had already moved on, got married, had another kid. I knew any chance with her was over; even if she hadn’t met your father, I had hurt her too badly to ever be taken back, but I still hoped I could get a chance to know you. I was scared though, of being rejected just like I had rejected the both of you, so I put off contacting her. Finally, a friend of mine convinced me that I had nothing to lose; I would either get a chance to see you or not. I hoped it would go well, but I knew it wasn’t too likely. I sent a letter to your mother explaining that I had changed and asking that I be given a chance,” Kent gave a rueful chuckle.

“I didn’t even get a response back. Your mother never was one to forgive, and I certainly didn’t deserve her forgiveness after what I had done. I tried contacting your father next; I had done some asking around, and he had a reputation of being a kind and compassionate man” He snorted. “He might be kind and compassionate, but when it comes to his family, your father is as fierce as any lion. He made it clear to me that I was not going to be allowed to hurt either his wife or his son again, and that if I came anywhere near them he would ‘take care’ of me. But he did leave me with a little hope; if I could prove that I had really changed, that I really wasn’t the same person I had been before, then I might just have a chance.”

“So what did you do next?” I asked.

“The only thing I could, I waited, all the while working at proving I was different. I started working on songs that had a positive message, I became a philanthropist, I even did some motivational speaking. The media declared me an inspirational figure, and I did the rounds on the talk shows; I even did Oprah. I didn’t have to worry about money; all the while I was throwing my life away, a friend was still looking out for me. Heartracer had seen to it that my money was put in trusts at the height of my fame so I couldn’t waste it all. Finally, I got the call I had been waiting for, and I came… here.”

He smiled warmly at me before looking up at the rearview mirror, and I felt myself smiling back. Maybe I didn’t have to feel so bad after all. Maybe this was someone I really could have a relationship with. Yes, he had abandoned me when I was young, but he seemed to be a different person now, at least I hoped he was. Mom's warning was still echoing in my mind; I knew I should probably heed her words and try to be careful. Take it slow; that’s what I told myself.

“When you came to rescue me, your guitar was playing by itself. Do you have some kind of power that allows you to do that?” I asked shifting the topic to something not as replete with emotions.

“Oh that.” He leaned forward and reached up to his neck, tapping at something I hadn’t noticed before. It was a circle of polished metal at the base of his skull. “Neural implant. I’m hooked directly to my guitar so it plays whatever is in my head. The whole thing was made by Dr. Sound, one of the original members of the Lampposts.”

I noticed Kent frown as he looked yet again in his rearview mirror. “What’s wrong? Is mom following to close?” I asked as I twisted in my seat to see behind us.

Kent stopped my turn with a quick hand to my shoulder and a quiet command. “Don’t turn around.”

“What? What is it?”

“I think we might be being tailed, hold on,” he said before he shifted gears and sped onto the off ramp at the last second.

“Of course we are being followed! My mother is supposed to be right behind us!” I said.

Kent winced, then replied back. “I mean I think someone other than Veronica is following us. She is going to tear my head off for losing her though. Call your mother and tell her what is happening. Hopefully she hasn’t called the cops to report a kidnapping yet.”

I reached into my pocket to pull out my cell phone when it started ringing. The distinctive sound of Star Wars Imperial March filled the car and I hastily pressed the answer button. With what I thought was a commendable amount of forethought, I held the phone several inches away from my ear. Both Kent and I winced in unison as my mother’s voice ripped through the air.

“What the HELL is going on! You tell Deathknell’s lily white backside to pull over so I can pick you up! When I’m through with him, he is going to wish he was facing Acidbreath again! Losing most of his skin is nothing compared to what I am going to do to him!”

“Mom! Kent thinks we are being followed; stop yelling!”

“Followed? Followed! Of course you are being followed! I’m the one following his over-tattooed ass! I’m…”

“Mom! He means someone other than you!”

The other end of the line went quiet for a moment, then my mother spoke in a controlled voice. “Put me on speaker phone.”

“That’s hardly needed with how loud you were yelling,” I grumbled.

“Ad-Eden!”

“All right, all right, I’m putting you on.”

“What did the car look like that was following you, Kent?” asked my mom.

“A white SUV; it was three cars behind us in the next lane,” Kent said.

“I see it; hold on I’m going to slow down and see if it will pass me.”

“Be careful,” warned Kent.

We held our breath as we waited for what mom would say next.

“Alright, it passed me by. It looks like a Ford Explorer. The license plate is half covered in mud; all I can see is R2.”

“Is there anything else that might be distinctive about the car?”

“It has some kind of ribbon bumper sticker on the back, one of those support our troops or live strong things.”

I felt like rolling my eyes. “So does almost every other car on the road these days,” I said. I was starting to lose the panic that Kent’s declaration that we were being followed had caused. I just couldn’t see some shadowy secret agent type driving around with a breast cancer awareness sticker or whatever on the back of his car. And besides; the SUV was supposed to be black wasn’t it?

“Does it look like he is trying to get off at the next exit?” asked Kent.

“No he’s in the far lane from it, and we’ll pass it in just a minute.”

Kent seemed to relax. “Must have just been my imagination,” he muttered. “Veronica, go ahead and get off the freeway. I’ll meet up with you on the feeder.”

“Fine, then we can pull over and Eden can ride with me.”

I acted quickly to try and head that off. “Mom, I’m okay with Kent, I don’t need to change cars.”

“Eden, if he is going to…”

I cut in, “Mom, we are all just a little paranoid. Having run-ins with murderous cults can do that to people. Besides, if we really were being followed, wouldn’t I be safer with someone that has super powers and can defend us?”

I heard my mom sigh over the phone. “Fine, Eden, but you tell Kent that he is to call me before he does anything like this again. I’ll have my cell phone where I can get to it right away.”

After I hung up the phone with a sigh of my own, I had to wonder what Chinese guy had given me their worst curse; I couldn’t even ride home without something ‘interesting’ happening to me. Okay, it was a false alarm, but I was sure no one else at my school ever worried about being followed by mysterious cars.

“Well, where were we?” asked Kent.

“I think it’s your turn to ask a question.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Caput Mortuum.”

“What? Is that even a real color?”

~o~O~o~

Mike Harrison brooded to himself as he drove back to meet up with the others. The little freak had already gotten protection from more of its kind. Not only was it getting help from supposed ‘heroes’, the Watchers, but it was being driven around by a known supervillain. So much for the ‘heroes’ claim to be fighting against ‘bad’ supers. He knew they were all in it together; they might pretend to fight each other, but when it came down to it, they all worked together. He was glad he had been detailed to follow the freak today. Now he knew what allies the baby freak had. He had recognized Deathknell, one of the worst freaks around as far as he was concerned, what is how he was trying to corrupt today’s youth. He really hoped he would be given the chance to do him in. He had caught his nephew listening to its propaganda music at the last family reunion. He had beat that boy but good too for falling for that corruption. His weak brother had objected to his handling of the situation, but he didn’t care; he was doing right by his family and something his wimpy little brother should already have been doing.

He was still puzzled by how the target had changed from a boy freak to a girl freak, but the boss said that it happened sometimes, just another sign of their unnatural violation of the proper order of things. He had to admit that it had come out looking good no matter what it had started as, of course that was only so it could seduce honest, righteous men from their duty. He and a couple of the boys had plans for her if they got the time. They would teach her the proper place of a woman.

The boss didn’t know if it had any powers yet. When it was still a boy, it hadn’t shown any, but that might have changed when it turned into a whore. They did that sometimes. They would have to be careful when they went after it, strike when it was away from its allies, and take it down hard. He was looking forward to it.

~o~O~o~

I had been home for an hour. Kent had left soon after dropping me off, chased away by a glare from my mother, who was now busy grading papers for her class. Even Harvard had abandoned me, as soon as we got home he went into my sister's room where I wasn’t allowed to go. He was acting strange; he hardly ever wanted to be by himself. Most times he was always underfoot looking for attention. All this meant that I was left alone with pretty much nothing to do. I spent some time thinking about everything Kent and I had talked about in the car. After the little paranoia episode, we had discussed all kinds of things, mostly trying to figure out who the other was. He had told me about what it was like to be a rock star, it turned out to be a lot more work than I thought, and about his deep love for music. I had told him about growing up in Texas and about my friends at school.

The conversation had become depressing when I told him about Brook. I had admitted to him how I felt about her, something I hadn’t even told my own mom and dad. The problem was I was a girl now, so that shot to hell any chance that she would ever like me that way, even if I wasn’t going away to an Xavier’s Institute for the Weird and Freaky wannabes. Kent had tried to give me hope by suggesting that it was possible that Brook might like me even as a girl, but there was no way that was happening. Brook had never even hinted that she might like the same sex. This whole situation sucked.

I had been resolute this morning about facing the whole ‘I-have-boobs-and-all-that-goes-with-it’ thing head on, but that was this morning. My resolve didn’t feel too strong while I was lying on my bed with nothing to do but brood. I didn’t want to be a girl! I had been happy being a boy. Okay, I wasn’t some testosterone-laden meathead who did nothing but brag about his conquests, but that didn’t mean I was okay with this. I was dreading interacting with people that didn’t know I was really a guy. My mind kept thinking about how different boys and girls were treated. Even when kids are still young, people always tell girls how pretty they are and boys how strong they are. You never hear it being said the other way. And that was just unconscious bias. I cringed at the memory of some of the things that were said in the locker room. There were some guys who didn’t even seem to think girls were really humans who could think and had feelings of their own. I regretted not having punched them in the face for their comments, but since I would probably have been handed my ass in a take-home doggie bag, it was probably for the best that I hadn’t.

Ugh, I needed to stop thinking about this stuff; it was just making me depressed. I got up off my bed where I had been staring blankly at a poster of the lead characters from Tales of the MCO, who, now that I looked more closely, seemed to be glaring at me, and decided I needed some fresh air. It was hard though; even walking down the stairs reminded me of my situation. My gait was different, my balance was different, even the way I moved was different. Stop it Adam, just don’t think about it, I told myself.

Remembering what a disaster it had been the last time I went out for a walk, I decided to stay in the backyard. I walked around aimlessly for a while, kicking up the grass clippings from yesterday before flopping down next to the big live oak tree that stood in the middle of the yard. It was one of Harvard’s favorite places to snooze when the weather was good, and I could see now why he liked it. It was cool under the tree, with the branches shifting in the breeze to dapple the ground with yellow sunlight. Harvard had cleared a spot off the usual carpet of acorns and the grass to come to that, leaving a patch of the sandy soil bare.

I had to look on the good side; it wasn’t like everything that had happened to me in the past few days had been bad. I had gained cool mutant powers after all. I mean, who hadn’t wanted to be able to do magic as a kid? Just wave your hand and bam! Ken Lancaster was a frog. It had been really cool at the Watchers headquarters today when I had made that rune work. It just felt so cool, like nothing I had ever experienced before.

Hmm, I wonder what would happen if I tried drawing a rune on the dirt? Did I remember what it looked like? I closed my eyes and tried to bring back the memory of how the rune had appeared. It was amazingly clear in my mind’s eye. I saw both the fire rune and the frost rune like they were right in front of me. There seemed to be an unusual depth to them in my memory, almost as if they were three dimensional. I opened my eyes and after a quick search found a stick. I should probably stick to the frost rune; I don’t want to set the yard on fire after all.

I smoothed out a spot next to me and used the end of the stick to start to sketch out what was in my mind. It was hard to describe how I drew some if it; there seemed to be lines and curves that didn’t correspond to what someone standing next to me would have seen. There was somehow more to what I did than just moving a stick around in the dirt. I felt that warmth I had felt this morning when Cardshark had taken over my body rise up in me. Then I felt something different; there was another power reaching out from what I was drawing to meet my power. The two of them spiraled together, meeting and melding into one force that flooded the rune with energy. Just as I finished the last line, the powers reached a crescendo and settled down into what I had created.

I blinked my eyes, clearing the strange vision from them and looked down at the area about a foot in diameter of frosted ice. I rapped it with a knuckle. It wasn’t just a thin layer of ice, the ground was frozen solid. I grinned to myself. This was pretty cool! I wondered if there was any way to use this to ice down a drink. I would never have to drink a hot coke again! Of course, I would have to find some way to not freeze the whole thing and have the can explode in my face.

Speaking of coke, I was kind of thirsty, so I got up, shooting my little patch of ice an appreciative glance and headed back into the house. We were almost out of coke with just two left, so I snagged one of them and poured it into a glass of ice. Yeah, I know I was just thinking about using my powers to cool the soda, but I was really thirsty and didn’t want to risk not having anything to drink. I was making my way back to my room, thinking that I might see if I could entice Harvard to join me, since he never turned down a chance to get some coke, when there was a knock on the front door. Not really thinking about it, I reached out to the door.

“I got it mom!” I absently yelled so she wouldn’t have to get up.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing I had ever done, since when I had the door open, I was staring into the puzzled face of Brook.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Sleethr for his read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

Additional Note - Sorry about the long delay, there was a family emergency with my grandmother going into the hospital. The next chapter should be out as soon as my editor gets it back too me.

---

 
 
Chapter 12
 

“Brook!” The startled squeak came out of me in a way that I would probably have described as cute a few days ago if I heard it from another girl. As it was, I felt my cheeks start to burn with embarrassment.

“Uh hi, is Adam here?” asked the athletically built blonde girl, a puzzled expression on her face.

This is when I made my first mistake; I probably could have talked my way out of this mess if I had used my brain instead of just reacting, but in my panic, the only thing I could think to do was try and close the heavy door in her face. Not very smart as it turned out, since Brook’s first reaction to me doing that was to push back against the door, keeping it open.

“What the hell? What do you think you’re doing?” said Brook angrily as she glared at me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, as if by doing so, I could somehow force this situation to go away.

“What’s going on here? Where is Adam? He didn’t come to school yesterday or today, and who are you?” asked Brook, her tone becoming more suspicious. It was clear she could tell something was up; I just hoped she wouldn’t figure it out.

“Uh, I’m Adam’s cousin, Eden. He’s not here right now.”

“Adam doesn’t have any cousins! He has always told me how lucky I was to have so many because he didn’t have extended family!” Brook stepped inside and I gave way to her trying to think up some kind of believable explanation that didn’t involve me telling her I had turned into a girl. “Ms. Oakson, what’s going on? I heard at school that an ambulance came here yesterday! Who is this girl?!?”

My mother was standing in the door way to the family office, obviously unsure of what to do about the situation.

“Calm down Brook, there is nothing going on here. It’s just, Uh…” with a stroke of genius I came up with an explanation that I was sure would work. “…Adam and I are part of a foreign exchange program. I came here and he went over to Germany, yes, Germany.”

Brook stared at me as if I’d just said that tiny men come out at night to move the remote control so no one could find it. “That’s the stupidest lie I’ve ever heard. There is no way Adam would go to Germany; he doesn’t even speak German. Besides which, Adam would have told me about it if he was planning something like that. And you! You don’t even have a German accent!”

“Uh,” was all I could think to reply. Damn, how did you say ‘uh’ in German anyway? Okay, maybe it wasn’t a stroke of genius, more like a stroke of stupidity. Was there such a thing as a stroke of stupidity? Think about it later, you need to deal with Brook right now. I looked to my mother, hoping to get some kind of help from that quarter, but she didn’t seem to have any ideas of what to do either.

“Oh god, something has happened to Adam? The ambulance was for him, wasn’t it? Is he hurt? Why aren’t y’all telling me?” she looked back and forth between my panicked face and mom’s, then she went pale. “Oh no, is he…did he die?”

It looked like her legs were starting to get shaky, so I quickly grabbed her and moved her over to a chair. “No he’s…” but I couldn’t take the fear on her face and I gave in to the inevitable. “No, I’m Adam,” I said in a resigned tone.

As quick as that Brook went from fear to anger. “Do you think I’m an idiot? Why are you telling me such stupid lies?”

“Brook dear, she isn’t lying to you. She really is Adam,” said my mother.

Brook stared at my mom in incredulity, then she turned to look at me. There must have been something about me that she still recognized because her eyes widened and she said in an astonished voice, “Adam?”

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. “Yes.”

“What, how did…”

“It’s a long story.”

~o~O~o~

“So let me get this straight, you found out you were a mutant, got kidnapped by evil cultists, turned into a girl by a botched ritual, then were rescued by your long-lost father who is a reformed supervillain rock-star? And all this happened in one day?”

“Well, yes, that about sums it up.”

“Either I’m on a bad acid trip, which doesn’t seem likely since I don’t do drugs, or I’m living in some form of silly internet fiction,” said Brook in some disbelief.

“We could only be so lucky.”

“Things like that just don’t happen! Not in the real world.”

“Well they do, and they did,” I said rather dejectedly. Brook was taking it well, mostly I think because she only half believed us. She hadn’t called me a freak or a fag and stormed out at least.

Brook must have sensed how depressed I was feeling from telling the story because she reached over and hugged me. “I’m sorry Adam; I don’t mean to sound like this is a joke. It’s just so unbelievable I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay,” Damn it, damn it, damn it, the water works had started up again. I swear I was going to glue my tear ducts shut. “And I’m going by Eden now; people will look at me weird if everyone keeps calling me Adam.”

“So what are you going to do now? Is there some way to change you back?”

“There’s a school up in New Hampshire for mutants, I might be able to find someone that can undo this up there, and I can learn how to use my powers if I go too.”

Brook suddenly looked distressed. “You’re going to be leaving?”

“Yeah, but not for a little while yet, the paper work is still going through with the Watchers.”

“Oh,” said Brook still sounding a bit sad that I would be leaving. That made me feel a little better somehow. “So what kind of super powers did you get? Can you lift cars or turn invisible or something cool like that?”

“Well, I think my power is pretty cool; it’s magic.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, when I was at the Watchers headquarters, I made a rune of fire then frost work. It ended up freezing Cardshark’s book solid.” I decided not to mention my experiment in the back yard. My mom was within earshot of us, having gone back to her office after assuring herself that Brook wasn’t going to freak out.

“Hey, you got to tell me what it was like to hang out with the Watchers! Which ones did you meet?” said Brook. It was obvious that she was still trying to get her head around the whole gender change thing and wanted time to think about it more before we got back on the subject. That was fine enough with me, I had been thinking entirely too much about it as it was.

“I meet the Sergeant, but only for a little while. I mostly dealt with Cardshark and Steelfist; they are really cool too. Like real people. They helped with my testing this morning. I also meet Sobrehumano, but he’s a real dick not at all like he is on the news.”

“Eden, watch your language!” scolded my mother from in the office, proving my surmise correct that she was eavesdropping on us.

“Sorry,” I replied while rolling my eyes at Brook. “I even got to fly in one of Steelfist’s helicopters, me and Harvard both.”

“Wow,” said Brook, sounding suitable impressed. “Where is Harvard anyway? Can he really talk to you?”

“He’s upstairs,” I raised my voice. “Harvard! Brook is here, why don’t you come on down!”

“Why isn’t he down here with you? He is almost always with someone around here looking for attention,” asked Brook.

“I think he might have an upset stomach, he is acting a little off.”

“Him? With an upset stomach? I once saw him eat a whole bag of red hot jalapenos, and he didn’t even need to stop for water!”

Harvard came down the stairs at a more controlled pace than his usual galumphing run, but his tail was wagging at least. He instantly went over to Brook and put his chin on her knee, looking up at her with sad eyes that said his heart would break if she didn’t immediately start petting him, the big faker. Brook started making a fuss over him and asking if he felt bad in cooing baby tones. I just rolled my eyes. Okay, I also rubbed his ears, but that’s immaterial.

“Are you feeling better, big guy?” I asked, since he seemed up to his usual deceptions.

-I, uh, I just have a stomach ache,- Harvard said in a decidedly over-controlled ‘voice’, but then maybe that was just how he sounded when he had a stomach ache. I don’t know; I haven’t heard him talking for that long.

I was about to ask him another question when the front door opened again and my sister Kelly stepped in.

“Eden!” she said, dropping her bag and running over to sit by me and give me a hug. I was a little started by this; my sister and I have never gone for physical signs of affection. “I have been thinking about you all day! How did the testing go? What are your powers? Did anything cool happen? Oh, hi Brook!”

“Wow, slow down!” I said, returning the embrace a little awkwardly. Hugging my sister was strange but it did feel good having her show that she cared about me. “Good, Magic, and yes, but you’re too young to hear about it. There, are you happy?”

“I’m thirteen and a half; don’t try to tell me I’m too young! So you have magic? Like Harry Potter magic?”

“I am way cooler than Harry Potter; I don’t need Dumbledore to come bail me out all the time.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t be Harry Potter, you would be Hermione Granger.”

“Hey, I don’t want to be the know-it-all!”

“Well,” added in Brook. “You did always say you liked Emma Watson.”

“Yeah, but that’s because she’s hot, not because I want to be her. Being Eden is bad enough,” I said a little bitterly.

Both Kelly and Brook looked a little contrite for bringing up the whole gender thing, but I waved it away. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound depressed, it’s just hard, ya know?”

“Sorry, this can’t be easy for you, and there I go making fun of it,” said Brook apologetically.

“It’s okay, it’s probably good for me to try and joke about it. It might keep me from dwelling on all the bad stuff, like havin’ to sit down to pee, and how I don’t have any clothes that fit, and my body just feeling wrong.”

“Well, I know how to solve one of those problems!” said Brook, a gleam in her eyes that I was going to learn was from the pure evil of her idea.

“Really?” I asked hopefully, as of yet still an innocent of what was about to descend on me.

“We have to go shopping!”

“Wow! Hold on a…” I tried before a “Squee!” from Kelly announced her joining in on the demonic plan.

“Oh, it will be so much fun! We have to do it!”

“I said wait a…”

“Mom! Brook just had the best idea! Eden needs new clothes so why don’t me and her take Eden to the mall?” said Kelly running to Mom’s office like a torturer going to ask the king if he can break in the new thumb screws.

I was still trying to frame some kind of protest when Mom joined us in the living room. “That’s not that bad of an idea. What do you think Eden?” she asked me.

“No way, I’m not going on one of those mall crawls you girls do; it ain’t happenin.”

“You do need clothes Eden.”

“Can’t you just go buy some for me?” I asked, a bit of a whine creeping into my voice. I could see which way things were going.

“Girl clothes don’t work that way Eden; you need to try them on to see if they fit properly,” my mom said sternly.

“But…”

“You can either go with your sister and Brook, or you can go with me later; it has to be done.”

I decided to go with Kelly and Brook. If the choice was between going with them and going with my mother, it wasn’t that hard of one to make. It would be bad enough with those two; having to go shopping with my mother would just be pathetic.

“Okay, but y’all have to promise not to try and stuff me into Barbie Teen Hooker clothes or pink ones or anything like that.”

Kelly did a little victory dance, which I ignored.

“Uh, there is just one problem,” said Brook, “I’m still kind of in trouble with my parents for the whole detention thing. I’m not technically grounded, but they aren’t too happy with me right now. They let me borrow the car so I could come check on Adam and work on our science project; I don’t know if they will let me go to the mall.”

My mom frowned some. “I’ll call them up and see if I can talk them around. Why don’t you go get changed and freshen up, Eden.”

“Yeah, your hair is a mess,” said Brook, reaching out to touch it. “We should probably see about getting you a haircut while we’re there.”

“Good idea,” said my mother as she went to find a phone.

Freshen up? I had never needed to freshen up before. I made a face. This must be one of those girl things I would need to get used too. At least no one was trying to slap war paint on my face. I went reluctantly up the stairs, Kelly pulling me, and Brook giving me a push from the rear. When we got to the top of them, my sister peeled off and went to her own room leaving me and Brook in front of my door.

I turned back to her. “You know you can’t go in there; my parents won’t allow girls in my room.”

Brook started to snicker. “I guess you’ll never get to go into your own room again then, will you?”

I sighed, I really needed to stop making it so easy. I must be off my game; I would never have given an opening that good before. Brook wrinkled her nose when she entered my room.

“Yes, there is no doubt, this is a boy’s room. Do you ever clean up in here?”

“It’s not Friday yet,” I said defensively.

She made a circuit of my room, raising an eyebrow at the poster of a well-endowed Texans cheerleader on the opposite wall from the MCO one, but saying nothing, probably because it was at least sports related. She nodded appreciatively at my gaming rig where I played GEO on and off. She finally sat down in a chair, then stood back up to remove something she had sat on and reseated herself.

“Does it meet with your approval?” I asked sarcastically.

“It’s a little different from the last time I was in here when we were eight.”

“Yeah, the action figures are up in the attic now, and there are no more Lego castles on display.”

“Adam, are you really doing okay? Everything that has happened to you it’s just so…” she floundered, at a loss for words.

“Screwed up?” I filled in for her. “I’m doing okay, I guess; it really hasn’t sunk in completely yet. Everything just seemed to happen so fast. There are times when I can forget about it, and there are other times when I feel like the whole world is flying apart.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ll deal with it, I guess.”

“You’re brave Eden. If all that had happened to me, I would probably be in a padded room wearing the newest fashion in extra long sleeves.”

I felt myself blushing, “I’m not that brave; I just don’t have any other options.”

“Well, enough of that, we need to get you ready to go out. What do you have to wear?”

“All the clothes mom bought me are in that pile there,” I said pointing to a stack of garments.”

Brook started sorting through them, and I could tell she wasn’t all that impressed. “There is nothing that I would call good here,” she said, holding up a pair of jeans. “But we will have to just make do. Try these on.”

I took the jeans from her, then stopped, uncertain. “Uh, can you turn your back or something?” I was blushing again, damn it.

“You’re going to have to learn how to change in front of other girls. You don’t want people at your new school thinking you're weird, do you?” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Fine. It’s not like I haven’t already been naked in front of girls; I had a shower with a hot woman just this afternoon,” I grumble.

Her expression changed to startlement and something else I couldn’t place. “You pig! You’re not supposed to… you don’t…”

“What?” I said; it was my turn to grin. “I am a girl now right? I’m supposed to get used to it.”

She threw a pair of socks at me, which I dodged. “Change already!” she said, turning her back to me.

The jeans didn’t fit very well, being a little too big for me, but that was solved by the use of a belt. Brook also handed me a plain white shirt. I didn’t like how the neck line came down to a “V” showing off some of my admittedly small cleavage, but I didn’t have much choice. After having changed, Brook examined me and pronounced my clothes acceptable, if only barely, for public viewing. She then started to pull me into the bathroom to mess with my hair. Thinking of something I halted, forcing Brook to stop as well.

“There’s one more thing,” I said in a quiet voice. “Kelly doesn’t know about Kent being my father, so don’t mention anything to her, okay?”

“Were you going to tell her?” asked Brook.

“Eventually,” I said with a sigh. “But I want a chance to think through what I will say first. I don’t want to get it wrong.”

“Right,” said Brook nodding her head I acquiescence. “You’re a good Br… sibling,” she coughed covering her verbal slip. “Come on, let me fix your hair.”

Kelly was already in the bathroom doing the same. I thought of a few days ago when I casually moved her out of my way so I could use the sink. I couldn’t do that anymore; it would be a real struggle.

Of course, things were different now in other ways too; Kelly moved aside and let me share the sink with her. She even went so far as to give Brook one of her scrunchies to hold back my hair. After more fussing than I thought was necessary, my hair too was deemed acceptable.

Mom had good news for us when we went downstairs; Brook’s mom had agreed to let her go to the mall with us. She even said we could go out to eat afterwards. I’m not sure what my mom had to do to get her to agree to that, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As the three of us piled into Ms. Aldridge’s minivan, I had serious doubts about the wisdom of my decision to go with the two of them, but I reasoned with myself; I have faced down evil cultists and mud monsters, what did I have to fear from two teenage girls unleashed on a mall?

~o~O~o~

As we pulled into the busy parking lot of the temple of consumerism, excuse me, I mean the mall, I was feeling even less enthusiastic than I did at home. When I would come here before, it would be to stare longingly at the groups of giggling girls, not as one of said gigglers. I really didn’t like the idea of having to go in there, no let me tell the truth, I was scared to hell of going in there. It was my first time out in public as the opposite sex. Part of me was scared that people were going to start pointing and calling me a fag because they knew I wasn’t really a girl, while another part of me was scared that no one would notice, after all, I was really a boy; I didn’t want to seem so much like a girl that no one could tell the difference.

“Relax Eden, no one is going to attack you,” whispered Brook into my ear as we walked in through the automatic doors into the spacious food court.

The hell she said; people were looking at me! I felt naked, and like every eye in the whole place was focused on me. I almost tripped on the entrance-way; I was so absorbed in trying to see what everyone’s reaction would be, but Brook reached out and grabbed me elbow to steady me before that could happen. She then pulled me into a quick one-arm hug that told me she was there for me.

I let out a long breath, not realizing I had been holding it; okay, maybe not everyone was looking at me, in fact most people were busy with their own stuff, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as I had first thought. No one was yelling yet at least. I checked the glasses Kent had given me, still in place, so no outward sign of being a mutant to start anything either.

Where should we go first?” asked my sister.

“We should probably check to see how long the wait is at Styled Look before Eden can get her hair done.”

Wait to get a haircut? I had never had to wait in my life, at least not any more than fifteen minutes. I just showed up at the Sports Cuts and the next haircutter who was free would trim everything up, in and out in under ten minutes. Yeah, sometimes one sideburn was longer than the other if you got a new guy cutting it, but that was no big deal and easily fixed at home.

Styled Look was just around the corner from the food court, and we learned there that a stylist, not a haircutter, I was told, would be able to see me in an hour and a half. My sister and my friend seemed well pleased with this and mapped out their campaign for conquering the mall. They decided that they needed to start first things first, which meant underwear and bras. I was decidedly uncomfortable going into Victoria’s Secret with my best friend and my little sister. My little sis and sexy undergarments should not go together, at least in my mind. I mean for god’s sake she was thirteen! She did not need a black see-through bra!

“My friend has just had a growth spurt and needs to get fitted,” said Brook to a tall blonde woman wearing a name tag saying ‘Hi I’m’ with a blank space that was filled with ‘Overworked and Underpaid’.

She smiled friendlily down at me, her eyes holding a glint of humor. “I see, though it doesn’t look to have been that big of a spurt.”

I felt myself blushing. God, I didn’t even want them and I was blushing because someone said they are small! What is wrong with me?

“Have you ever been properly fitted before?” she asked me, and I shook my head, still blushing. “Well don’t worry, it’s all relatively painless. Let’s pick out some bras, then you just need to come with me back into the fitting room and we will get it sorted out.”

I was fine with just getting plain white bras, but my sister and Brook insisted on getting a variety of different ones. I did put my foot down though when Kelly wanted to add in a padded push-up bra. I don’t care what she says, I will never want to ‘impress’ someone, not in that way.

Ms. Overworked and Underpaid, whose real name turned out to be Jessica, had me follow her into a small room in the changing section separated from the rest of the area by swinging double doors and step up on a platform with mirrors angled around it.

“Go ahead and take off your top, and I can show you how this all works,” said Jessica in a reassuring voice.

I hesitantly took off my shirt and put it on a hook next to me. I had to stop myself from covering my breasts with my arms as I stood, my blush reflected in all the mirrors. Jessica handed me one of the bras, a light green one with a bit of lace on the top, and I fumbled my way through putting it on.

“I wanted you to put this one on first because I knew it wouldn’t fit properly. Can you turn to the side for me?”

I did as she asked, a little miffed that she seemed to be wasting my time.

“Notice how the band is riding up in the back? What you want with a good fit is for the band to stay at the same level as the front of the bra. You also have the hook on its tightest setting; when you first get a bra, you want it to fit on the loosest one so as it stretches over time, you can tighten it. Now hold up your arms. See how the front of your bra here gaps out? You want that to be nice and firm against you. Let’s go ahead and get you in a bra that fits.”

I knew this was probably good information to learn, but I would have much rather just gotten one that fitted and left. I reined in my impatience; it was better that I find this out now rather than later when I was alone, I told myself as I put on the next bra.

“You know, you really are a beautiful young lady, with stunning hair and eyes, even if you do need to eat more. I know there is a lot of pressure on people your age to be super skinny, but the fashion isn’t to be skin and bones anymore; models have more curves these days. Have you ever thought about modeling?” she asked, as she tightened a shoulder strap. “I ask because I used to do some modeling when I was a teen, and I know a reputable company if you’re interested in that kind of thing. There are far too many people out there who would exploit you if you aren’t careful.”

“I- I,” I stammered for a bit, “I really don’t think I would be interested in modeling.” Just the thought of dressing up in revealing clothes and having to pose for some perverted camera guy made me cringe inside.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, come by and let me know. Now, how does that feel?”

We went through a dozen different bras, Kelly and Brook running to get different sizes for some of them, before we were done. Jessica insisted that you needed to try one of each different brand, since they all fitted differently. This seemed plain stupid to me, but Brook said it was just how girl clothes were.

It felt strange having something wrapped around my chest and cupping my breasts. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to get used to the feeling. It did stop my boobs from jiggling a little as I walked, which I guess made up for how weird it felt. Getting the underwear was much easier since no one expected me to try them on, which was lucky because that would just be gross. When we were checking out, I discovered too late that one of the girls had slipped in a bright pink thong with the rest of our purchases. The cashier gave me a knowing look, which was just embarrassing. After that, it was on to the rest of the mall, starting with Macy’s.

It wasn’t really as bad as I had thought it would be; my sister and Brook would pick clothes out for me, explain about them some, and then have me try them on. It wasn’t solely about me of course; they tried on clothes as well. I have to admit that it was even a little fun. I got to tease my little sister a lot, and Brook looked sexy in almost anything she would put on.

In the shoe section, I finally picked out something to try on rather than just dressing in what the others found. There was a pair of dark brown calf-high lace-up boots with only a slight heel that looked, if not masculine, then at least not overtly feminine. I was well pleased with them, and only after I had them on and looked in one of the mirrors did I find out how sexy my legs looked in them. Damn it! I did not want to look sexy! But… I had to admit I did like them.

We were across the ways from the guys section of the store, and due to how the racks were arranged we had a clear view over to the entrance of the boys changing room. I noticed that a couple of guys, probably a year or two older than me, were watching us and talking back and forth. They were the kind of good looking guys that always went out with the cheerleaders in school. I glared at them, not really liking being the center of that kind of attention. The taller one said something to his shorter, but still fairly tall friend, and they went into the changing room.

Ha! That should show them, freaking jerks. A moment later they reappeared. They had changed into a couple of button up shirts, but they seemed to have forgotten to button them up. They had to be the type of guy that spent a couple hours in the gym every day because they had rock hard abs. I absently wished I had had a stomach like that when I was still a guy as I stared at them, unable to look away for some reason.

“Hey Eden, what do you think of these shoes on me? Eden?”

I snapped my gaze from the two guys and back to Kelly. I found myself blushing, though not really sure why. “They, uh, look nice on you Kelly,” I replied.

She seemed to accept my answer, though she did give me a strange look. I shot a glance back at the guys that had been watching me to see them grinning and high-fiving each other. That made be blush even worse. What the hell was going on with me?

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Sleethr and beyogi for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 13
 

“All right, we have been at this for an hour; it’s time to take a break from the girl zone and shop somewhere manly, or at least neutral.”

“Well, I don’t think there is a hardware store in the mall, so how does Barnes and Nobles sound?” asked Brook, trying not to laugh at my pleading tone.

“Oh! I want to get a book too. I just borrowed the first Twilight book from a friend, and I want to get the second one,” said Kelly.

“You just had to go and turn a trip to a bookstore into a girly thing, didn’t you?”

We split up when we got to the bookstore, Kelly to find her sparkly vampire fiction and Brook to look in the thriller section. She liked books with lots of action and explosions. I wandered around the store, since my taste in books was rather eclectic. I never really settled down on any one genre of books to like, so one day I might be reading a fantasy book and the next day a western or a history book; it really just depended on what I was in the mood for. I don’t know if it was just chance wonderings or if my subconscious had been doing some sneaky piloting on its own, but I ended up in a section devoted to the entertainment world. I thumbed through a few books on Hollywood celebrities and one book on the topic of reality television and what it meant, which as far as I was concerned should read something about it being one of the first signs of the apocalypse, when my eyes caught on something.

‘Legend of the Lampposts, the story of the first mutant rock band and their rise and fall’. I excitedly pulled out the book to see that, yes, it was what I had thought it was about. On the cover was a picture of four people, three men and a woman, all striking poses while wearing clothes that could only have been cool in the eighties. Center of the lot was a younger Kent, or I guess it was Deathknell, with the way he was dressed up, hand raised as if ready to play on the guitar he held in the other.

I flipped the cover open and glanced through the table of contents to try and get a feel for what the book would be like. It had a number of chapters starting with ‘Mystery, where did they come from?’ and going on down through things like ‘Pranks, or Villainy?’, ‘The English tour’, and ‘The Lampposts hear the Deathknell of the band’. This seemed to be what I had been looking for without even thinking of it, a perspective on Kent that wasn’t from either him or my mom.

I closed the book with a snap and went to see if the other two had found what they wanted yet. Brook ended up finding me at the same time I found her. She had a stack of about seven thick paperbacks, most of them with authors name’s printed in raised letters just that little bit larger than the actual title itself, and inevitably, one of the books had the silhouette of a fighter jet on it.

Brook grinned a little sheepishly at me. “It’s hard to just get one; they're like potato chips.”

I just rolled my eyes, well used to her excessive purchase of novels. It took us a bit of searching, but eventually we found Kelly curled up in a short comfy chair, her nose buried in a thick black and red book. I leaned in close to her and whispered in my best Transylvanian accent, “I vant to suck you blood!”

She rolled her eyes and closed the book, unaffected by my attempt at scaring her. “It’s not that kind of vampire book. It’s all about love, not scary monsters.”

“What’s good about a book about vampires if they aren’t out stalking the night looking for victims to drain of blood?” I asked.

“Well, there are also werewolves,” put in Brook.

“And do they stalk the night looking for victims to maul?”

“Nooo... but they do go around without shirts on a lot.”

“Because they lost it while hunting down human prey, right?”

“I’m afraid not.”

I sighed with mock disappointment. “Books just aren’t what they used to be.”

“Enough you two! This is not the comedy hour!” said Kelly, smiling. “Besides, I think you should try reading these, Eden. From the way you were watching those two guys show off their muscles, you might like the books.”

“I wasn’t…I… what are you talking about?!”

“What?” asked Brook, raising a surprised eyebrow.

“Yeah, Eden was totally checking out these two hot guys when we were in Macy’s.”

“Were you?” asked Brook.

“Of course I wasn’t! I don’t like guys! This is just stupid!” I replied hotly.

“Calm down Eden, Kelly is just teasing you. You don’t have to get so upset.”

I glared at the two of them, “It’s not funny! How would you like to be in my shoes and someone teasing you about liking girls?”

They had the decency to look slightly ashamed of themselves. “Sorry Adam, I shouldn’t have said that. I know how hard all of this is for you,” said Kelly, actual tears of remorse starting to form in her eyes.

My anger left me, and it was my turn to feel slightly ashamed; they were just teasing me, I didn’t need to react so strongly. I knew I liked women, the reaction I had in the Watchers' shower room this morning proved that.

“It’s all right, don’t worry about it,” I said, bending down to give my sister a quick hug. “Let’s go buy our books, then I guess it’s time for my haircut,” I said the last bit with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. I just knew it was going to be another chance for the two of them to play dress-up with me being the live doll.

As we were waiting our turn in line, I noticed one of those conspiracy type tabloids, all exclamation mark and people looking shocked because apparently they had Bigfoot's baby through artificial insemination by space men. What got my attention on this one were the big bold words reading, ‘EXPOSAY OF SECRET SUPERHERO SCHOOL!!!’ Maybe there was more truth to these things than I thought, after all, I was going to private school for mutants. I picked up the tabloid and flipped through the thin, cheaply made paper.

‘Dr. Amazing, Man Mountain, Galaxy Girl have demon love child!!!’

‘Secret bastard child vows revenge on all Goodkinds, takes over Marvel!!!’

‘Demon defeated by school girls of pure faith!!!’

‘Man in the moon watching us!!!’

I had to snicker at some of the headlines; yeah they got lucky with the ‘superhero’ school thing; everything else was just too ridiculous to be real. Looks like MIB was wrong after all.

We had spent enough time in the bookstore that we needed to hurry along in order to make my appointment with the haircutter, excuse me, stylist. It wasn’t without trepidation that I presented myself to the woman at the front desk. “I have a 6:00 appointment…”

“Are you Eden or Anne?”

“Eden…”

“Alright dearie, you’re going to be with Marina; she’ll be with you in just a moment. Take a seat over there,” she said, gesturing to a row of black padded chairs.

“We really haven’t talked about it yet, but what kind of haircut do you want, Eden?” asked Brook, turning slightly in her chair to face me.

“I was thinking of getting it cut short; I don’t want to mess with it all the time,” I said, trying to sound firm.

That immediately set of a flurry of protests from them.

“But you have such beautiful hair…”

“You can’t do that…”

“Oh come on guys,” I tried, “Maybe y’all like having long hair, but it’s nothing but a bother to me.”

Of course that wasn’t the end of it; they kept on thinking up reasons why I shouldn’t chop my hair off, and I kind of tuned them out and just sat staring into the distance. I noticed a tall woman glancing at me in a curious way. I briefly made eye contact, and it seemed to me she made a decision. She went over to the check-in booth and spoke to the receptionist I had talked to upon arriving. They exchanged a few quiet words, then the woman started towards us.

“Hi, Eden? I’m Sophie. I switched with Marina so I’m going to be your stylist today. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll get you shampooed.”

The three of us started to get up, but Sophie waved my two companions back. “Just Eden; we have a customer’s only policy for the back room.”

I shrugged at them, then followed the large woman through a pair of doors to a room with reclining chairs and sinks lining the walls, each separated from the others by walls that came out a short ways to each side. Sophie led me to a chair down at the end of the room opposite from where everyone else was. I got in the chair, and she turned the water on.

“How does it feel? To hot? To cold?”

“It’s a little cold.”

She adjusted the temperature some and started lathering up my hair with a shampoo that had a faint floral scent. I noticed her hands were a bit on the large side, but I guess when you used them to work on hair all day they can get a little muscular. “So, were those your friends who were with you?” Sophie asked.

“Uh, yeah, the older one is Brook, my best friend, and the smaller is my sister Kelly.”

“It’s nice that you get along with your sister; I haven’t seen my sister in years. We had a fight and haven’t talked since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. I was lucky that my sister had been so accepting of what happened to me; it could have been a lot worse.

“Oh, it’s okay dear. I was always closest to my Gran anyway. Now she was a character. She used to work in a circus as a palm reader and fortune teller.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, and the thing is she wasn’t just some scam artist; she really did have a gift. It was amazing the things she could know about a person just from looking,” said Sophie as she massaged my scalp in a way that really felt good.

“Hmm...”

She must have found my tone less than convinced because she continued. “Don’t believe me? The thing is, I inherited some of her gift too. Not as strong as her, mind you, but I can still tell things about some people. For instance, I can tell that you don’t like being a girl, you consider yourself male on the inside.”

“What? How did you!” I would have shot up in the chair, but she held me down with one of her hands on my shoulder. Luckily it was covered with a towel, so she didn’t get any suds on my shirt.

“Calm down, I’m not making any judgments; the truth is that I’m the same way, though in the opposite direction.”

“You want to be a guy?” I asked.

“No, like I said I’m the same but in the opposite direction,” she took in my confusion. “I was born Michael.”

“Oh,” I took a second look at her. There were subtle signs but it wasn’t as obvious as I had been led to believe it would be. I had never really meet anyone like him, uh, her before. I was in Texas after all; you just didn’t seem to run into people that were different in that way very often unless you were in Austin or somewhere like that, or maybe it was just that they didn’t advertise it as much. I would never have known about Sophie if she hadn’t said anything. Considering my own situation, I probably needed to reevaluate some of my long-held beliefs on the subject.

“I thought you might like to have someone to talk about it with; it’s not easy growing up wanting to be the opposite sex in these parts.”

“But I didn’t!” I blurted out. “I am a guy!”

“Yes I know. It’s what’s on the inside that really matters, not what you are born as.”

“No, I mean I really am a guy,” I said, until I noticed Sophie’s confusion then added, “Well, I was until yesterday at least.”

She still seemed confused, though she went back to washing my hair. “My gift has always let me know when someone is in the LGBT community. If you’re dressing up as a girl for some kind of dare it shouldn’t have reacted…”

I sighed, and then made a decision. She already knew something strange was happening, so it probably wouldn’t hurt to let her in on a little more; besides, she had already trusted me with her secret. “Yesterday I was kidnapped by some kind of evil demonic cult, and they used some kind of magic on me to change me into a girl.” She looked a little dubious, “No really, I’m not making this up. My name was Adam.”

“Well, I must say, that wasn’t what I was expecting. I know some girls that would have loved to be in your shoes in that case. Something like this wasted on someone who didn’t want it,” she sighed, then seemed to consider what she had said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sure you wish it would have happened to someone else, too.”

I grimaced, “I’m pretty sure what happened was an accident. What they were aiming to turn me into probably had more tentacles than comes standard on most people.”

Sophie concentrated on rinsing out my hair for a moment before she started talking again. “I started realizing that my gender was wrong when I was fairly young; it was a horrible feeling not being in the body you are supposed to be in. I don’t know if it is worse for you, since it’s all suddenly thrust upon you, or better since you got to at least grow up as who you were supposed to be,” she shook her head as if she were shaking off the question. “But that doesn’t really matter. I try to give some support to the young LGBT people I spot, kind of lend an ear for anything they want to talk about. So what’s on your mind?”

I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to pour my feelings out to a complete stranger, even if she did have the same kind of problem I did, so I stuck with an issue that seemed safe enough. “My sister and Brook want me to keep my hair long; they keep blithering on about it being too nice to cut short, but I don’t like it. I don’t want to deal with long hair, and I don’t like the reminder of what happened!”

Sophie turned off the water and patted down my hair before having me follow her to one of the barber chairs along the wall in the same room where Kelly and Brook waited. Along with all the other paraphernalia of a stylist, there was also a row of pictures, mostly of smiling happy people, but there was also a picture of an older woman dressed up in an elaborate costume with a stern and mysterious air, though the twinkle in her eye belied that somewhat. Sophie put the plastic sheet around me to catch the falling hair and started talking again. “If you want it short, we can cut it short. Don’t let your loved ones pressure you into something you don’t want to do. They might have the best of intentions, but it’s still you that has to live with it.”

I was relieved to finally have some support against the onslaught of feminization that had been after me all day. Of course, it was then that Kelly and Brook came over to hover in the background.

“You don’t have a rule against us being here too, do you?” asked Brook, a hint of confrontation in her voice.

“No, it’s fine dear,” answered Sophie, smiling unconcernedly at the two of them before turning her concentration back to me.

“You’re not still thinking of cutting all your hair off are you Eden?” Kelly asked nervously.

“Well, yeah, I was.”

“You can’t do that Eden! You have such pretty hair! You could model for those hair care commercials it’s so nice. Ms. Sophie you tell her!” said Kelly.

“Actually I don’t see anything wrong with short hair if that is what Eden wants. It will look just as pretty short as it does long.”

Kelly gave the hair stylist a betrayed look for siding with the enemy. “Mom will be upset with you if you do it Eden.”

“No she won’t, you pest, and even if she was it’s not her decision. I’m the one that has to live with it,” I said, repeating what Sophie had just told me.

“You’re going to have to deal with a lot of shit from other people if you cut it too short, girls especially,” chimed in Brook.

I gave Sophie an inquiring glance, wondering if what Brook said was true.

She frowned, “Yes, there are some people who might make nasty comments if it is boyishly short, but most of those people aren’t worth paying attention too.”

Man, I really didn’t want to get hassled, not when I’m going to a new school where I knew nobody and had no one for backup.

Kelly must have sensed my wavering and pounced on the moment. “Look, Eden, why don’t you get it cut a few inches below your shoulders and see how you like it. You can always get it cut again if it’s too much bother,” she said in wheedling tones.

“Uh...” I said.

“If you don’t want it so short that you get remarks, we can go a little bit longer without going as far as your sister wants to do. Trust me, the hair will grow back if you ever want to change your mind. We could do it at about ear level. There are plenty of people who get it cut that short so almost no one should say anything,” said Sophie.

I looked at the determined set of my sister’s face and realized that if I didn’t give in some, I would never hear the end of it. And when I say never hear the end of it in combination with my sister, I mean really never hear the end of it. I still to this day have her complaining about the time I cut off all of her Barbie’s hair when she was five and I was eight. Come to think of it, I wondered if her insistence on me not cutting off my hair wasn’t some kind of payback for that very event.

“Okay, I’ll go with it being at about my jaw line, but I want your promise Kelly that you won’t nag me about it, or I’m getting a buzz cut!”

Of course Kelly having gotten her way, or at least her way to some degree, was all sweetness and light from there on. She even helped Sophie pick out a style that they said would be easy to maintain.

As we were leaving, after paying the incredibly high bill by my mind, Sophie stopped me to give me a card with her number scrawled on it. She said I could call her anytime that I needed to talk with someone.

I was fairly tired at this point, and even though Kelly and Brook looked like they might have wanted to continue the shopping spree, they agreed to call it quits for the time being. Brook’s car was loaded down with shopping bags and looking at it all, I got a little nervous, we had bought a lot of clothes; I hoped my folks wouldn’t blow a gasket.

It felt good to have the back of my neck bare again; all that hair had been annoying, not so much for anything it felt like, but because it had been yet another reminder of what had happened. The haircut I had gotten didn’t turn out being that bad, I thought. Looking in the car mirror, I had to smile some; it looked nice. The wavy, almost metallic appearing, copper hair looked good the way it was. Okay, I still looked like a pretty girl, but at least the look was more me in some strange way.

The drive home was uneventful. Brook and Kelly chatted away, with me staying mostly quiet. Occasionally, Brook would crank up the radio on a song she liked and even sing along with it, despite my wishes. She was my best friend, and it was probably disloyal to say it, but she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, not even one of giant ones you got at the hardware store. Kelly, of course, complained about the unfairness of her favorite band, The Brass Monkeys, never being on the radio. I kept my mouth shut and counted my blessings.

The roads were pretty clear, so we got home without much delay. When we pulled up in the driveway, I saw that dad’s car was there. Sometimes he had to stay late for work, but I guess what with everything that had been happening, he had rescheduled any late meetings he might have had. I was grateful when I was able to put down the load of shopping bags we hauled from Brook’s car. Who knew clothes could be so heavy? I have to admit, I was a little disgruntled with the fact that Brook was having no trouble; I had never noticed before how strong she was. It must have been all the sports she played.

“Eden,” said my dad, rising from the chair where he had been watching the evening news and giving me a hug. “How are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my eyes.

“Did you leave any clothes left at the mall? I’m not going to get a call from my bank telling me my credit card has been maxed out, am I?” he said.

“Uh, well, I tried not to…”

“It’s okay Eden, I’m just teasing you. I have been through enough of your mother’s and sister’s shopping trips to know what to expect.”

“Let me see how your hair looks,” said my mother, who was also on her feet. She turned me so that I was facing her and then stood back. “You look beautiful! I had been afraid you would chop it all off. I must say, your stylist did a good job.”

I found myself blushing, it wasn’t like I ever got called beautiful before. “Uh, I’m starving; didn’t you say that Ms. Aldridge said it was alright if Brook went out to eat with us?” I said, changing the topic.

“Yes, she did; I was thinking we would do something simple and go to Anthony’s Dinner. I’m sure you’re tired and wouldn’t want to do anything more formal,” said my mom.

“Why don’t we get you changed, Eden,” said Brook after giving my sister a look as if she were trying to convey some message.

Oh, just great; they probably had plans to play dress-up with me some more, I thought. “Haven’t I changed enough today? What’s wrong with what I have on?”

“Come on Eden, you have better clothes to wear now than that getup you went to the mall in,” she said, picking up a load of my new clothes and heading upstairs. I groaned, but decided to follow her.

It didn’t take as long as I might have feared; Brook already had an idea of what I should put on and quickly rummaged through the bags pulling them out. She dressed me in a light blue top that had a few buttons between my, uh, well, you know those things, and a pair of dark, distressed blue jeans. While the top fit loose enough, the jeans were so tight that when I tried them on at the mall, I was sure we had gotten the wrong size.

“You look great Eden!” said Brook staring at me in a strange fashion, as if searching for something.

“Am I wearing something wrong?” I asked, looking down at myself.

“No, why do you ask that?”

“You were staring at me funny; I thought my fly was unzipped or something.”

“No, no, you're fine, I was just…” she seemed to hesitate. “It’s nothing; why don’t we hurry up so we can get to dinner.”

I shrugged my shoulders, Brook would say what was on her mind eventually. I had learned from long experience that I couldn’t drag it out of her before she was ready.

When we got back downstairs, it was to find my parents and sister in a heated conversation that broke off when we entered.

“Eden,” said my dad, turning towards me and Brook. “Your sister was just telling me that she has some homework she needs to do before tomorrow and she needs help with it, so it’s just going to be the three of us going tonight.”

“Uh, Dad, I need your help with the project to,” put in Kelly quickly.

“Isn’t it something that can wait until we get back?”

“No, I really need your help.”

Dad looked a little irritated, though it almost seemed like it was because he couldn’t go with us rather than because of Kelly forgetting she had homework. That didn’t make much sense since me and Brook had gone places by ourselves and with other friends plenty of times before. I started to feel resentful, was it just because I had turned into a girl that he was acting this way?

“Is there a problem with just me and Brook going? We have been plenty of times before.”

Dad ran his hand through his hair, a sure sign that he was frustrated. “He did say they would…” he muttered to himself.

“What?” I asked just catching the words.

“I want you to go straight to Anthony’s and back, no going anywhere else. Do you understand?” he said in a louder voice.

“Yeah…sure,” I was a little indignant, I had always thought that dad didn’t have a single patriarchal bone in his body, but he would never have acted this way before.

“Great, come on Eden, I’m looking forward to one of Anthony’s monster burgers,” said Brook, hurrying me out the door.

As we climbed into Ms. Aldridge's car, I sighed it had been a tiring day. But that was okay; all that was left was a nice, easy dinner, and then I would finally be able to call it quits for the evening. My stomach rumbled. And one of Anthony’s monster burgers sounded good to me too.

~o~O~o~

Harrison couldn’t contain his glee. The freak was going back out with one of its friends. He had thought the opportunity passed when they didn’t have the trap ready earlier. Damn Hanson brothers not being in place when the time came, but this time they would be ready. The boss had seen to it that the cops would take a long time to show up if they were called, which if they did things right wouldn’t happen. Strike hard and fast, that’s what they had to do. They even got the extra bonus of taking the freak's little friend. He licked his lips at that thought. Yes, this was going to be a good night.

---

 
 
To Be Continued...
 

---

Image Credit: Modified from Quizilla.Teennick.com - Eden. ~Landing

Author's Note: There is no connection between the novel by Harlan Ellison and my story except perhaps that we both just chose something simple that describes the story. :)

This is a fan fiction, the Whateleyverse and all canon characters are the property of their respective writers. If you find your life being depicted in this story you it is purely accidental and you have a hell of a lot more to worry about than suing me. No canon characters have been hurt in the writing of this story...yet.

Many thanks to GinnCaster5 for the editing help, without Ginn this story would probably be unreadable. And to Sleethr and beyogi for their read through.

This is a Whateley Academy fan fiction story, you can find the Whateley stories at http://www.crystalhall.org/ I highly recommend them. ~Landing

---

 
 
Chapter 14
 

I was losing. I was losing big time. In all my years, I had never lost in such a situation, but it seemed that fate had conspired against me.

“Ooh, that’s enough Brook; I can’t eat another bite, you win!” I groaned to my victorious friend, my stomach feeling uncomfortably full.

“Wimp, you’ve hardly gotten through half of it and you’re already giving up.”

I scowled at her. She was still wolfing down on her own Anthony’s Monster Burger along with a side order of fries. “This time doesn’t count, so you can cut it out already and stop forcing it down. You’ve almost eaten the whole monster as it is.”

“I’m hungry,” said Brook, blushing slightly at her appetite. “And I see no reason this time doesn’t count. You just don’t like losing.”

“You have an unfair advantage!”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I’m a girl now!” I said, lowering my voice so others wouldn’t overhear.

“Hardly seems like an unfair advantage since I’ve always been one,” she said dryly.

Damn her, bringing logic into the argument. I decided to get the rest of my burger put in a doggie bag, and mentally reminded myself to hide it from one doggie in particular. Harvard loved Anthony’s signature meal and many a burger had disappeared from their plate when the owners grew inattentive.

Brook finally pushed the remains of her meal aside and sighed.

“What’s up Brook?” I asked, catching a troubled tone to her exhalation.

She avoided my eyes as she played with the hem of her skirt. “I... I have something I want to tell you Adam. I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time; I just never had the courage, but you almost died yesterday, and I realized this afternoon that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I never let you know,” she looked up, meeting my eyes with an intense gaze. “I like you Adam; I always have. There, I said it.”

“When you say 'like', you mean…”

“I mean really like you.”

“Oh.”

“Did you, do you like me too?” asked Brook hopefully.

“Of course!”

I know I had a silly grin on my face, and I felt excitement rising in my heart before it suddenly sank. “But what about… this,” I said, helplessly gesturing towards my new feminine body.

Brook gave another sigh, and her eyes grew troubled. “I know, that’s where things get confusing.”

“You don’t like girls,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. She had been teased before by the other kids saying she was gay because she was such a tomboy. But she had always angrily denied it, and I knew for a fact that she liked guys.

“I... I don’t know,” she said, surprising me. “I had thought that I only liked boys but… I’m just not sure. When we were at the mall today, I tried looking at girls to see if there was anything there, and I just don’t know. It’s just all so confusing; I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Does that mean we have a chance together?” I asked, my hope rising.

“I just don’t know Adam, I mean Eden, sorry.”

I waved away the slip of the tongue.

“Everything has happened so fast lately. I might be okay with liking girls, at least if you’re going to be stuck as one, but I don’t know if I truly do or not. I think I need some time to figure it all out.”

“Well,” I said, feeling confused myself, “You don’t have to decide anything right away, and maybe once I get up to this school, I’ll find someone that can help me get back to the real me and there won’t be this problem.”

“Thanks, Eden. I know I shouldn’t have dumped this all on you, but I didn’t want anything to happen to you and leave me never having said anything.”

I was feeling mixed emotions; on the one hand, I was elated. The hottest girl in my school, at least to my mind, my best friend since I was young, really ‘liked’ me. I had never felt so excited about something in my life. But on the other, I was incredibly worried. What if I could never turn back into a guy? Would Brook still like me that way? And I was going to have to leave for this new school pretty soon; what if she found someone else she liked better? I had to find a way to change back! That was the first step.

I reached out and took hold of Brook’s hand. “We’ll work everything out, Brook. I’m really glad you told me. I always wanted to tell you how I felt, but I thought there was no way I would ever have a chance with you.”

Brook smiled at me. “You’re so stupid, Ed…”

“HEY BITCH!”

We turned at the loud and slightly slurred remark coming from behind us. I groaned. Great, this was just what I needed, as if the heavens had decided I was having too good a time of it, they had sent Ken Lancaster to see to it that things went to the ‘oh crap’ state I seemed to be stuck in. I was pleased to see at least that he had one black eye, though if that was from my punch or Brooks book attack, I didn’t know.

“Ya got me SUSPENDED! You WHORE!”

“Go away Ken, you’re drunkl you’re only going to get yourself in trouble,” said Brook.

“Fuck you bitch!” he shouted before taking in our clasped hands. “I knew you was a fucking dyke, just like your friend Adam is a little fucking sissy faggot. Hey everyone! Look at the little dykes!”

Brook went pale and hastily yanked her hand out of mine. Everyone in the little diner had gone silent, and when I looked around, I saw many people with unhappy or even angry expressions. I prayed that people were upset by a drunken guy harassing a couple of girls and it wasn’t a case of Texas bigotry.

“Shut your face, Lancaster!” I shouted right back at him, my hands balling into fists.

“Shud’up little whore, I’m talking to your dyke friend right now,” he said, walking over to lean on the edge of our table. “You tell your little fag friend Adam that I’m going to rip his face off the next time I see him, he’s goin’ ta go to the hospital wif his head stuck up his ass.”

“Hey! I told you to shut up!” I said, and since he still ignored me, I slammed my balled-up fist down on his hand where it supported him on our table.

“Ow! Bitch, that hurt!” he said, yanking up his injured hand and shaking it.

Unfortunately when he did that, he knocked me in the head and my glasses went flying. I had time to catch one startled and angry glance from Brook before I slammed my eyes closed. Fuck! I did not need everyone to know I was a mutant, and glowing copper eyes would be a dead giveaway. I got on my hands and knees and started groping in the direction I thought I had heard them land.

“You prick, my friend can’t see without her glasses!” yelled Brook. Smart girl, she had thought up an explanation for why I was groping around like a blind man faster than I could. Still, I heard people starting to grumble and get up around us. I had to hope it was because they thought they witnessed a guy hit a girl rather than because they saw a mutant with flashlights for eyes.

“Fucking hell! Her eyes, they…” Ken started to say before I heard a solid thwack of flesh meeting flesh, and then the thuds of someone falling against a table, then crashing to the floor.

There was a moment of silence before everyone in the diner seemed to start talking and moving at the same time. I heard several exclamations of ‘Damn!’ and “Did you see that!’ above the generally hubbub and I was growing desperate to see what had happened. I felt a hand on my back and stiffened, preparing to jump to the side in case the diner had suddenly turned into a mutant lynch mob.

“Here little miss, I got your glasses,” said an older voice that could have fit the bill for someone riding with John Wayne.

I reached up blindly and felt the coolness of the metal frames placed in my hand. I fumbled with them for a second, not used to them, before I had them settled on my face properly. I squinted one eye open, and when people didn’t start screaming I figured my glasses must still be working.

The man who had handed them to me smiled warmly down at me. My assessment of his voice had been right on the mark because he could have played the part of any elderly cowboy Hollywood had on offer. His face was strong, weathered, most likely from a life out of doors, and had laugh lines at the corners of his sparkling brown eyes. He was tall and thin, and if he was playing in Hollywood, he wasn’t either the villain, dressed all in black, or the hero dressed in white; instead he wore earth tones, and his old cowboy hat was brown and weather-beaten.

“Ya got a good girlfriend there, miss. She took that bully out with one punch. Good thing too, or I would have gotten my chance to tan his hide.”

I turned around to see Ken Lancaster laid out on the floor, amongst a broken table and chairs, dead to the world. Brook looked alright, if a little bit stunned but people were quickly converging on us.

Oh great, as if things couldn’t get worse, we were going to get arrested for assault! I quickly thanked the old gentleman and hurried over to Brook just as a man in an Anthony’s uniform reached her.

“I’m so sorry miss! Are you alright? Did that drunk hurt you or your friend?” Translation: are we about to get sued?

“N-no I’m fine… Eden, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine too, I just lost my glasses.”

“We will of course call the police right away, and your meal is on the house. We wouldn’t think of charging you after what happened.”

“Uh, Do you have to?” I hastily asked.

“You want to pay? Of course, if that’s what you want, we will accept your money.”

“No, do you have to call the cops?” I clarified.

“Well, when there is an altercation on the premises we have to call the cops; it’s standard procedure.”

I shot a panicked look at Brook who also looked concerned at this turn of events.

“Now hold on a second, mister…” broke in the old cowboy who seemed to have followed me.

“James, I-I’m the night shift manager.”

“Mr. James, I don’t think we need to be troublin’ these girls with no law men. That will just complicate things.”

“But I have to call the police; I could get in trouble if I don’t!” whined the manager.

“Fine, fine, then what seemed to have happened here is that some drunk stumbled into your diner and passed out on a table. You can call them police to pick him up and let him sleep it off in a cell.”

“But…”

“I’m sure my good friend Anthony would hate to hear that a couple of young ladies were harassed in his diner. It would look bad for his business, besides upsetting him on moral grounds. He could get real upset if he found out someone let something like that happen when he wasn’t in.”

“I…” James, the weenie night manager, looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“But now, he don’t have to hear about that at all, does he? We can just let him think that there was a little problem with a drunk, somethin’ that happens all the time,” said the old cowboy with a beatific smile on his face.

The weenie manager gulped and nodded his head.

“Good, if you don’t mind too much, ladies, I’ll see ya’s out to your car; don’t want no one else accostin' ya tonight.”

I grabbed the doggie bag, Harvard would never forgive me if I forgot that, and when we exited the diner, Brook and I both started to thank the old man for his timely intervention.

“Think nothing of it girls; just doin' what every gentleman should.”

“Do you really know Anthony?” I asked.

“Haha, nope. Never met him before in my life, but that little piss ant don’t know that,” said the cowboy.

We all grinned at that. When we got to Brook’s car, we stopped and turned to the old cowboy.

“Thanks again uh, sorry, we don’t even know your name.” said Brook.

“Name's John Tinkerton, but my friends just call me Tinkerton,”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Tinkerton…” Brook started.

“Now girl, I told you what my friends call me so you could use it yerself. I would be proud to be considered a friend to anyone who can deliver a hit like that.”

Brook blushed some, “Tinkerton then, thanks,”

“Yeah, thanks,” I added in.

He waved our acknowledgements aside with the swipe of one hand. “Like I said, it ain’t nothin’. You two take care of each other. Now I need to be off; see ya around,” he said, then, tipping his hat to us, walked away into the night.

“We were lucky,” said Brook as we both got into the car.

“Having Ken show up was lucky?”

“Well no, that wasn’t, but having Tinkerton help us was.”

She had a point. And man, what she did to Ken. I knew she was strong, she always had been but I was sure I would never have been able to do what she did when I was a boy. “Yeah, I guess, and you being able to take Ken out like that was something! One punch right to the chin, I wish I could have seen it.”

Brook seemed embarrassed. “I didn’t know what to do! I thought he was fixing to tell everyone about your eyes. I just had to stop him, so I hit him as hard as I could. I didn’t expect to knock him out!” exclaimed Brook as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“Don’t tell me it didn’t feel good to hit him just a little, though,” I teased.

“Okay, maybe,” she said, smiling a little.

“He will never be able to live it down at school, being KOed by a girl. He is going to be the laughing stock of the football team.”

“Yeah, when people hear at school…” said Brook, sounding slightly concerned.

“Is something wrong, Brook?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, it’s nothing; don’t worry about it.”

~o~O~o~

It had turned dark and we were almost to my house, on Greendale Road to be exact. On either side of us, overgrown wooded areas blocked out the light from the town. Brook seemed to have shaken off whatever had upset her, and we were reminiscing about events in our misspent youth.

“You remember that time your brother was supposed to be watching us and we snuck away and hid in the closet? Your parents were about to be home and he was going frantic looking for us.”

“Oh yeah! The expression on his face after he told mom and dad he lost us, and then there we were playing video games when they looked in the den like nothing was wrong. “Gee mom, I don’t know what he’s talking about; me and Adam have been here all day.” Ha! We so got him that time!”

We were both giggling at the memory, when I noticed we weren’t going as fast.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

“No, the SUV in front of us is slowing down is all,” Brook said. She craned her neck to the side. “I’m not sure why, there aren’t any turnoffs on this part of the road. Maybe their kids are acting out or something.”

I looked up at the car. It was a white SUV and something about it tickled my memory. It was only when I saw a yellow ribbon bumper sticker that I thought of the vehicle Kent had believed was following us on the way back from the Watchers headquarters. But that was stupid, just as I said then, lots of people have those stickers on their cars; hell, the minivan Brook was driving right now had one on it. All the same…

“Brook, can you see if you can go around it?”

“Uh, yeah sure,” she said in a puzzled tone. She must have noticed a difference in the tone of my voice.

Brook put on her blinker and started to accelerate into the oncoming traffic lane to go around the SUV. She had to slam on the brakes though, since the SUV swerved to be in front of us.

“What the hell?” said Brook.

The SUV slowed, then came to a stop with the length of the car taking up both lanes of the road, forcing us to come to a stop as well.

“Oh come on!” yelled Brook as she laid on the horn.

“Brook!” I said sharply. “Back up and turn around!”

She looked at me, then slapped the minivan into reverse. But it was too late; the trap had already been sprung. Two more cars had pulled up behind us and blocked us in.

“Damn!”

I looked back at the white SUV in front of us and saw a number of men getting out of it.

“Brook! There are about five men coming towards us from the front!”

“There are even more getting out of those cars back here! What do we do?”

“There’s only one car in front of us; see if you can get out that way!” I said, reaching for my cell phone to call the police.

Brook slammed the car into drive and started burning rubber towards the white SUV, aiming to try and force her way past it on the left. Some of the men in that direction started to scatter, but at least one of them pulled out a shotgun and started shooting at us.

The window shattered, spraying glass at us as one of the shots hit home. I ducked down, and Brook yanked the steering wheel to the side, trying to avoid the gunshots. Behind us, I could hear more gun shots and yelling; other people must be firing at us from that direction, too. The car skidded to the side before the back end slammed into the SUV and snapped us around. With that momentum, we plowed down the steep ditch to the side and through the overgrown woods until, with a mighty crash, the car stopped moving.

~o~O~o~

Back at the Oakson’s household

Veronica and Carl were watching a show in the living room waiting impatiently for Eden and Brook to get back from their date. They had been furious when Kelly revealed that she really didn’t have homework but was instead trying to give Eden and Brook some time alone together. Carl didn’t like the idea of leaving Eden alone right now, no matter what assurances he had been given of her safety. He was worried too about what might happen between Eden and Brook. He had long suspected that Eden had feelings for Brook, and he wasn’t sure how everything that had happened would affect their relationship. But he had known Brook since she was a child, and he had decided to put his trust in the two’s friendship.

As the show ended and Carl flipped through the channels looking for something that wasn’t pre-scripted reality television, which was getting harder and harder to find these days, there was a sudden fierce and angry growling from upstairs that put shivers of primordial fear down their spines, and Harvard practically flew down the stairs, actually jumping over the rail about halfway down as he made a bee-line for the front door. He gave one final leap as he reached it and smashed through the glass inset, the shards exploding out like a glittering fountain around him.

Carl and Veronica scrambled to their feet and raced for the door, trying to understand what was wrong with Eden’s usually easy-going dog, but when they got to the door and looked out, Harvard was nowhere to be seen.

~o~O~o~

“Ow.” It wasn’t very original, but it summed up what I was feeling at that moment.

I waved my hand in front of my face, trying to clear the smoke or whatever it was away from me. I heard Brook groan next to me. “Are you alright?” I asked as I reached down and undid the seatbelt. Thank god I had been wearing it, or who knows what shape I would be in.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you doing?”

“I’m good too, but we should get out of here. It looks like the car is on fire; this smoke has to be coming from somewhere, and we still have those guys with guns behind us.”

“The smoke's just powder from the airbags deploying,” Brook said as she unbuckled her own seatbelt and forced her door open. “Let’s get out of here before those guys catch up to us.”

I got my door open with a hard shove and made my way over to Brook’s side. She was bent over by the open door and I grew worried.

“Brook, you sure you’re alright?”

She stood up and smiled grimly at me. “I was just grabbing something,”

She held up what I first took to be a tiny fire extinguisher before I got a closer look and notice the picture of a bear on it. “Bear repellent, a girl’s best friend in a bad situation,” she said.

I heard yelling and gunfire close by and grabbed Brook’s unencumbered hand, pulling her after me. “Let’s see if we can get out of here without your best friend needing to be used.”
Unfortunately, we didn’t get far before there was the sound of running feet and a shotgun being cocked behind us. “Hold it right there, you fucking mutant freak!”

We turned to see a wild-eyed middle-aged man dressed in ragged jeans and a cameo-print T-shirt, oh yeah, and a big gun pointed right at us.

“Fucking mutant!” He said 'mutant' like someone else would say 'garbage'. “You thought you could fucking turn our ambush into an ambush of your own, did you? Well, it doesn’t matter; I’m still going to take you out!”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about, and I didn’t think I was ever going to get the chance to as he raised his weapon and prepared to rip holes in my body with chunks of metal. But just as he fired, a form streaked out of the darkness and launched itself at him. He went down, his scream mixed with the sound of snapping teeth and horrible growls.

I stared in astonishment as Harvard, my sweet, lazy, and somewhat conniving dog savaged the man’s arm until he lost his shot gun. I snapped out of it and ran over to kick the weapon out of the man’s reach. With a final violent shake of his head, Harvard let go of the man and went to stand in front of me, still growling threateningly at the man.

“Harvard! Where did you come from!” I asked in amazement.

-I came from home,- he answered simply.

“But how did you get out here?”

-You needed me, so I came,- he said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Before I could try to get more of an answer, there was a scream of horror from Brook and the sound of her emptying her bear spray at something. I turned, and seeing what was menacing her, I let out my own scream. “Brook!”

Standing before her was the same monster I had seen while being held captive by the cult. Its body gleamed darkly in the moonlight, and tentacles writhed about its body. Brook was desperately shooting her bear repellent at its face, but that didn’t seem to be doing anything but annoy it.

Beside me Harvard let out another growl and launched himself at the monstrosity. “Harvard, no wait!” There was no way Harvard could be a match for the insect-like creature, he barely even came part way up to the things crablike legs. But as he leaped at the monster, to what I was sure was going to be his certain death, he began to change.

All along his body in intricate loops and patterns, runes started to burn. As the runes finished forming, Harvard’s body began to change shape. His fur receded and the skin underneath turned black. He then began to grow, his chest and neck becoming almost obscenely muscular and the rest of his body not much better off. He’s head would have been chest high to me if he were standing on the ground. His teeth lengthened to razor sharp points, and his eyes burned red. He crashed into the monster, and his own monstrous growls were mixed with the unearthly screeching of the monster.

The two of them tore the earth as they battled back and forth; the monster tried to hold Harvard with its tentacles, but Harvard savaged them with his teeth, severing two of them. Brook scrambled back out of their way, and I grabbed her and quickly pulled her back further. The monster bled from the wounds Harvard’s razor sharp teeth had given it, its stinking black blood covering the ground and the woods surrounding them. Harvard too was bleeding, and where his blood landed, the ground began to sizzle. Finally, Harvard managed to lock his jaws on the monster's neck, and no matter what it did, it could not dislodge him. Slowly, it lost it balance and fell over, Harvard staying with it down to the ground until it stopped twitching and lay still. Finally Harvard released his grip on the dead creature’s carcass and turned to face us.

***Finally! I, Cochul’relk’thultuland am free! You shall rue the day you tried to confine me! I shall bring death and woe to this world, I shall…***

I felt a cold chill down my spine. I knew that deep maddening voice; it was the voice of the demon that the cult had tried to give my body!

***I shall destroy all who stand in my way! I shall…***

What had been Harvard abruptly sat down, and the runes covering its body began to glow. He cocked his head, and as he did, the deep demonic voice began to grow shriller and shriller until it was a normal if somewhat squeaky voice.

***I shall make all kneel befor... ah, nuts! Damn you dog! When my father finds out you're holding me captive, he is going to be really mad! You are going to be sooo sorry!***

Harvard, for it could only be Harvard that grinned like that with his tongue hanging out, winked at me, and, despite his hellhound-like appearance, I knew he was in charge.

-We need to get going; there are a lot of people in these woods fighting, and I can’t tell who’s who.-

“Right,” I replied before turning to Brook. “It’s okay, that’s Harvard. He says there are a lot of people fighting out here and we need to move.”

“That’s Harvard? What happened to him!”

“I’m not really sure, but my guess is it has something to do with when he rescued me at the cult’s hideout. They were trying to stick a demon inside me, but it looks like it went in Harvard instead.”

“You mean he’s possessed?!”

“Uh…” I looked to Harvard.

-Of course I’m not possessed,- he said, sounding indignant at the very thought.

***I’m the one that’s possessed or something! He’s taken over my spirit! He’s, he’s repossessed me!***

-Can’t you be quiet for five minutes? All you ever do is whine!- said Harvard with a doggie whine of his own.

***It’s bad enough that I have to be stuck in here with you, but now you want to take away my free speech? I have rights you know!***

-Sorry,- said Harvard, giving me an apologetic look. -I’ve been trying to keep him silent since he woke up earlier today, but he just keeps on talking!-

***Everybodys’ always oppressing me! It’s not fair! I…***

I held up my hands. “My god, enough already! Shut up!”

“Who are you talking to, Eden?” asked Brook, real worried in the glance she was giving me.

“Sorry, that demon that Harvard is possessing won’t shut up. Can’t you hear him?”

“I can’t hear a thing.”

“Great,” I said rubbing my head. “Another voice in my head that only I hear, people are going to think I’m crazy.”

***That’s because you are crazy! Crazy if you think my father is going to let you hold me captive like this!***

“Shut up, Relky!”

***Relky? Relky! I, the great Cochul’relk’thultuland, shall not be addressed in such a way! I…***

-We need to get going, there are people coming this way,- cut in Harvard.

“Right, let’s go,” I agreed.

Harvard let the way deeper into the woods with Relky grumbling about how unfair his life was. It must have been hard for Brook to see her way since she kept stumbling and would curse it being so dark, but I could see relatively well. I knew from what people had told me that my eyes didn’t really light up the dark, but it seemed that way to me. Everything looked like it was bathed in dim copper light. Of course, I still missed my footing and got snagged on brambles because, while I might be able to see, I wasn’t used to the odd effects the copper light seemed to have and misjudged things. We stumbled after Harvard, but too much time didn’t pass before he came to a stop and cocked his head, obviously trying to discern a safe path for us from the sounds of fighting that echoed in the woods.

-We go this way,- said Harvard, turning to the right.

But it wasn’t long before he stopped again, his stance becoming uncertain. —I think we need to…watch out!-

I heard the branches snapping behind us, and I grabbed Brook and leaped to the side just as another one of those insect monsters lunged at us. Harvard sprang into motion with a hellish growl, engaging the creature with his gleaming fangs. But there was an unearthly screech, and a second of the foul things broke through the trees, attacking Harvard from the side.

-Eden! Get out of here!- came the mental shout from Harvard as he tried to fight the two of them.

“But…!”

-Go! Take Brook and run, I’ll hold them off.-

Damn, I didn’t want to leave my dog behind to fight those monsters by himself, but I had to get Brook out of here. I didn’t want her to die because of my problems.

“Come on, Brook!” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her after me.

“What about Harvard?” she asked, slowing for a moment to look back at where the demon form Harvard was struggling fiercely to keep his own against the insect-o-fiends.

“He told us to run; he is going to hold them off.”

We ran through the trees, soon losing all sense of direction. It seemed like the sound of screams and gunshots were all around us, echoing strangely in the woods. I heard something rustling in the bushes to the left, so quickly we cut to the right, fighting our way through a large thicket of tangled saplings. We suddenly cleared them and found ourselves on the edge of a wide clearing full of activity.

There was a group of the same robe wearing cultists that had kidnapped me yesterday taking cover in a copse of oak trees and firing sporadically at a group that looked like the thugs that had stopped us on the road, who were themselves firing back from where they were pinned down in a clump of bushes. All around the edges of the large clearing, more of the insect-o-fiends were battling against a group of individuals dressed in brown and black uniforms. One of the uniformed persons was hurling chest sized boulders, while another was flying overhead shooting rays of brilliant light, still another was speeding along so fast you could hardly see him, but whenever he passed a monster, a leg or tentacle would fly off with a *snick* sound. In the very center of the melee was an absolutely gigantic insect-o-fiend, a nest of tentacles writhing from its back as its huge mandibles clicked together, sounding like steel ringing on steel. Against this monster strode a giant form made of earth and rock, each of its steps causing the earth to shake as it battled against the titanic fiend.

“Eden! Brook! Over here!” yelled an elderly, but still strong country accented voice.

I turned to look along the side of the clearing off to our left and blinked in surprise. It was John Tinkerton, the man that had helped us not long ago at Anthony’s. He was firing what looked like a classic revolver but each time he pulled the trigger a bolt of lightning would roar out of the barrel and thunder into an insect-o-fiend.

“Hurry girls, I’ll get y’all out of ‘ere.”

Not bothering to stop and wonder how the old cowboy at the diner had gotten here, Brook and I raced towards him.

“Stop, you freaks!” came a cry, and out of the trees, between us and John Tinkerton, stumbled the man Harvard had mauled earlier. He brought up his good arm which clutched a wicked looking handgun. “You fucking freaks are going to die!” he yelled madly, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth, and started firing wildly at us. I heard Brook cry in pain and felt a sharp stab in my right hand. Without thinking, I charged the crazed man, colliding with him and bringing us both down to the leaf-strewn ground. I desperately struggled with him, trying to knock the gun out of his hand. But even with his wounded arm, he was stronger than me. A mad kind of vitality seemed to infuse him. No matter how much I tried, my two hands could not stop his one from moving inch by inch. The fact that my right hand was slippery with what I realized was my own blood didn’t help matters. Slowly his hand crept up, and with horror I saw that he had it pointed right at Brook.

Desperate, I tried the one crazy idea that came into my head. I let go of his arm with my right hand and brought it up to his face. Quickly, with my own blood, I started to sketch the frost rune I had practiced earlier onto his forehead. Energy seethed in me and I felt it pour out into the rune, meeting the energy waiting there and becoming one with it, blossoming into something more. The man gave a pain filled cry, dropping the gun and reaching for his head, but before he could stop me, I had finished, and with one last agonized cry, frost began growing over his head and body. His hands stopped moving, and his scream rattled to a halt.

I stared in horror at what I had done. I had surely killed the man; no one could survive with the way he looked now. He was icy pale, frost rimmed his features, and the rune glowed an arctic blue on his forehead.

“Eden! Are you alright?!” cried Brook, as she hurried to my side and reached for me.

I didn’t answer; I was still too much in shock at what I had done.

“Come on, Eden, we've got to get out of here!” she tugged me up, and I stumblingly followed her.

We reached John Tinkerton just as he fired one last shot that blasted into the insect-o-fiend's open maw, causing it to convulse and collapse to the woodland floor. “I’m glad to see you two alright; let’s hurry up and get ya out of this train wreck,” he said before he seemingly addressed the empty air. “I need an extraction team on my position; I got the kids. Call in all the searchers, let’s end this.”

~o~O~o~

Brook and I sat on the tailgate of John Tinkerton’s old beat-up 1940’s era truck as two medical type people cleaned and treated our injuries. It turned out that neither of us got shot when the crazed madman was firing at us. It had just been shrapnel from a stone that he had hit next to us. I had a nasty cut on the back of my hand from one fragment that the medics had put a couple stitches in, and Brook had some small cuts from when the fragments peppered her legs.

Tinkerton had managed to quickly get us out of the middle of what had turned into a three-way firefight. He brought us back to where it had all started, next to the abandoned vehicles of the bigots that had ambushed us. The Watchers, who it turned out Tinkerton was with, had used the location as their secondary base of operations once everything had started to go down. The Watchers had been following me since I left their headquarters yesterday. They suspected that the cult would try for me again, and they wanted to be ready to get them when they tried.

They had discovered that the cult was planning an ambush on our way back from Anthony’s, and they had planned a counter ambush for when they struck. Only things didn’t go down exactly as planned. The cult's planned ambush appeared to be a couple miles further down from where the thugs had attacked us. The Watchers were going to attack them as soon as things started to be set in motion. They had wanted to wait until the last second so they could get the entire remaining cult, especially the leader Whippoorwill. Only their leader had never shown up. And by the time they started to notice that something fishy was going on, it was too late. The anti-mutant group of thugs had stopped Brook and me, and at the same time the cult attacked the hidden Watcher forces. Dozens of the insect-o-fiends had come at them from the rear.

John Tinkerton, who had been following Brook and I, tried to call for backup as he saw the thugs' ambush forming, but it was too late. No one could get to him in time, and we were already veering wildly into the woods when he opened fire on the anti-mutant members from behind. The Watchers, already hard pressed from the cult’s surprise attack, split their forces so some could come to our aid.

The Watchers were forced back up the road in our direction running over the anti-mutant members in the process. The bigots, seeing a group of supers coming at them, switched from hunting us down to attacking the supers who they believed were after them. The thugs seemed to be the only ones besides Brook and myself who didn’t know what the hell was going on, so they went after both the Watchers and the cult equally. It wasn’t until Tinkerton found us again that the Watchers were able to gain the upper hand. With their forces that had been out searching able to join back in the fight, they quickly turned the tide and defeated both the cult and the thugs. They were just mopping up the last of the bad guys now.

“Are you alright, Eden?” asked a concerned Brook, who reached out and took my hand.

“Yeah, it’s just that no one has seen Harvard, and there’s that…other thing that happened.”

“I’m sure Harvard is fine; nothing bad ever happens to him. As for the other thing, it’s not your fault Eden; he was trying to kill you; he was trying to kill both of us. You have a right to defend yourself.”

“I know, but god, I just can’t get that last scream out of my head. It must have been torture. I tortured him to death, god, what kind of a person am I?”

“Stop it, Eden, you did no such thing.” Brook said sternly. “Did you know that what you did would kill him?”

“No, but…”

“Did you in fact have any idea what would happen when you did it?”

“No! I just acted; I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“You were desperate. You were trying to save both our lives. If you hadn’t acted, we might both be dead right now, so you can’t beat yourself up over this. You’re not a bad person,” she said firmly, trying to drive home each point.

“She’s right, girl, you acted to survive. At the end of the day, that’s all any of us can do,” said Tinkerton, coming up on the two of us.

“Have you had to kill before?” I asked.

“Yes, many times over the long years.”

“Does it get any easier?”

“In some ways, yes, it does. You learn to deal with it and accept it, but in other ways, no, it never gets easier takin' a life, at least most of the time.”

“I’m never going to do it again, never,” I said with conviction.

“I hope you don’t have to Eden, I really do, but your life ain’t goin to be a peaceful one. You need to be ready to do what you have to do for survival…and the survival of those close to ya.”

I thought of Brook being shot and killed by a mad bigot, and my conviction wavered some.

“But don’t ya worry about that right now, girl. You survived tonight, that’s what’s important. Let the rest of it ride,” Tinkerton said gently.

I tried my best to do as he suggested, to just not think about it, but I kept finding myself brooding over the events. Tinkerton and Brook filled my silence with quiet conversation that I only half listened to. Tinkerton was telling Brook something about a ranch he lived on with his brother; I really didn’t catch it all. It wasn’t long though before more of the Watchers showed up. I recognized the Sergeant as he strode over to us, his face looking bleak and angry.

“How are things here, Mr. Tinkerton?” he asked.

“About as well as can be expected, Sergeant. The girls are fine, just some minor cuts. We didn’t find nothin' all that interesting in the mutant hater’s cars, nothing that can point us towards who is in charge of this gang anyway. How were things out there?”

Sergeant Earth Mover grimaced. “Nasty, we managed to kill all of the Blood Fiends and capture most of the combatants, both cult and those others. They suffered a number of fatalities and most of the rest of them are banged up, there is one more that isn’t likely to make it. We only had a few casualties. Ralf has a broken arm, and Racer managed to knock himself loopy on a low-hanging branch, damn speedsters. The one I’m really worried about is Birdseye; one of those monsters managed to pluck him out of the sky and pin him to the ground through the stomach with one of its legs. Steelfist is flying him to Memorial Hermann as we speak.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Birdseye is a good kid,” Tinkerton said.

“We’re hoping he’ll pull through,” said the Sergeant, then snorted. “The hard part is going to be keeping all of his bird friends from flying into the hospital to watch over him.”

Tinkerton chuckled in response.

“Thanks again, Mr. Tinkerton, for coming out of retirement to help us with this.”

“Don’t mention it, and I’ve said before, it's Tinkerton or John, if you prefer; you’re not a skinny teenager learning how to shoot anymore, so don’t be calling me Mister. Besides,” he continued. “It does me good to get off that old ranch and see some action; keeps my aim in practice.”

“One of those fatalities,” I cut in. “I…I’m the one that killed him. Do I need to talk to the police or go to jail or something?”

The Sergeant gave me a long look. “No, you didn’t.”

“What?”

“You didn’t kill him, at least not if you're referring to the man with all the ice and the rune on his forehead. He is unconscious, and we don’t know if he will make it, but he’s not dead yet.”

He wasn’t dead. I wasn’t a murderer. I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders, and I let out a sigh. Brook squeezed my hand and smiled at me. “And what about Harvard? Has anyone seen him?” I asked, the worry returning.

“Your familiar? Our reports said it was just you and your friend who went out tonight,” said the Sergeant, shooting a questioning glance at Tinkerton, who just raised his eyebrows in response.

“He showed up after we crashed in the woods,” put in Brook.

“Your dog sure seems to show up when he is needed,” commented the Sergeant. “As far as I know no one has seen a dog out there, at least no one has reported it in.”

“He would have looked a little different than the last time you saw him. He turned into this huge kind of hell hound so he could fight one of those insect monsters. Only we got attacked by a couple more and he held them off while we ran.” A worrying thought occurred to me. “None of your guys got him by accident, thinking he was a monster, did they?”

The Sergeant frowned. “No one reported seeing anything other than the Blood Fiends, but then we haven’t even started a full debriefing yet. Hold on,” he turned and spoke into the empty air. “Watchers, has anyone come into contact with a brown colored dog, or a large demonic looking dog this evening?”

He waited for several moments while I chewed my lip worriedly.

“Roger that, be on the lookout for him. This is a non-hostile, I repeat a non-hostile. Contact me if any signs of it have been seen.”

“Sorry girl, no one has seen him,” the Sergeant said sympathetically.

I felt my gut knot with worry as I looked away from the Sergeant's too caring eyes. It was then that I noticed a car speeding towards us. It was only after it stopped in front of the thugs' abandoned cars that I realized it was my dad’s.

“Eden!” He jumped out of his vehicle and raced to us, only slowing slightly to take in the bullet holes in the cars he made his way around. “Are you two alright?! Harvard ran through the front door, and we knew something had to be wrong.”

“Yeah, we’re fine, we just got ambushed by some anti-mutant bastards and then the cult slipped the Watchers' ambush and attacked,” I said, rather unwisely, now that I think about it. I should really try to lead up to these things more gently with my parents. I can only say in my defense that I was worried about Harvard and didn’t put as much thought into what I said as I normally do.

“What!?!” My dad said, then did something I never thought I would see him do; he hauled off and punched Sergeant Earth Mover, the leader of best super hero team in the whole region, right in the face. “You said she was safe! You said I didn’t need to worry about any more attacks!”

The Sergeant rocked back on his heels, then slowly raised a hand to touch the side of his face. “I probably had that coming,” he murmured shaking his head. “I know I probably deserve that, Mr. Oakson, but…”

He was interrupted by the sound of tires squealing, and in the other direction from the one my father had come in sped a cherry red Ferrari that could only be considered going under the speed limit if it was circling a lap in Daytona. Its tires finished squealing, and it came to a halt, and out of it jumped… Kent. And boy did he look pissed off. He marched up to where we were standing and slugged the Sergeant right in the jaw.

“You promised that you would protect her! I get a call from your organization saying that Eden was in danger and asking if I could come back up the Watchers. What the hell, you said she was in no danger!”

The Sergeant put his hand up to rub the other side of his face. “Mr. Oakson, Mr. Kent, I would take it as a kindness if you would both stop hitting me and let me explain!” he growled.

My father glared at him. “It had better be a damn good explanation,” he said. Beside him, Kent glowered and nodded his head.

“I was trying to set up an ambush so that I could capture the people responsible for what happened to Eden and stop them from ever threatening her again.”

“And just how well did that turn out?!” asked Kent.

“What gives you the right to use Eden as bait for your trap?!” asked my father.

“It was the only way I had available to me to get these guys off the street.”

“So that gave you the right to lie to us about the danger Eden was in?! You said there was no way the cult could attack!” exclaimed Kent.

“Look,” said the Sergeant losing his temper. “I did the best I damn well could. It was better that we took on the cult now rather than later. Yes, we used Eden as bait; would you rather us have done nothing and leave the cult to attack when no one was ready? This is about more than one person. Do you know how many people, men women and children this cult has killed or done worse to? Yes I lied to you; I told you everything was okay. I did everything in my power to keep from tipping off the cult to the trap I was setting.”

“And how did that work out for you?!?” shouted back my father.

The Sergeant grew cold. “It didn’t. As we speak, one of my men is fighting for his life because I screwed up. Even still, he might not have been hurt if, when I learned that Eden and her friend were in danger, I hadn’t split my forces to save them,” he held up his hand. “No I’m not blaming Eden for what happened to him. I just want you to understand that we did everything in our power to protect them. I might have put Eden and her friend at risk, but I did not do it lightly.”

“You still shouldn’t have brought Eden into this,” said Kent, but I could see both my father’s and Kent’s temper seemed to be cooling.

The Sergeant sighed. “Sometimes there are no good options, and you can only choose between lesser evils. I thought I could lure the cult out of hiding and keep Eden safe at the same time. I was wrong; the cult managed to outsmart me and that almost cost Eden and her friend their lives. For that, I’m sorry.”

“Did you at least manage to take out the cult?” asked Kent.

The Sergeant sighed again. “Yes and no. We managed to capture all of the cult members that showed up tonight, but we didn’t get their leader. We are confident, however, that these were the last of the cult members he had in this region. It will take him awhile to build up his following again.”

“So Eden still isn’t safe,” said my father grimly. “And what about these H1 people; where do they come into it?”

Mr. Tinkerton spoke up. “The people who attacked Eden and Brook are part of a group loosely affiliated with Humanity First, though ya won’t find ‘em on any official rolls. They’ve been involved in a string of attacks on mutants or anyone who might seem different from normal people. The mere accusation is generally speaking enough for these folks. The cult must have learned of their plan to attack Eden and used them for their own scheme.”

“A don’t suppose that these guys at least were neutralized?” asked Kent.

“Again, we got everyone who was involved in the attack this evenin’. We might of got lucky and everyone who was headin' their little gang was here, but I’m doubtin’ it. They’re well put together and generally know more in’ they should; that tells me the folks in charge are smart and careful; smart and careful leaders don’t do the dirty work themselves. We’s goin' to have’ta wait and see what the law men are goin’ to be able to squeeze out of ‘em,” said Tinkerton.

“So we have two groups after Eden, and you can’t assure me that either of them won’t try it again,” said my Dad, rubbing his forehead. “How am I supposed to protect her from people like that?”

“Another attack from either group is unlikely after the serious blows they received tonight; that being said, I still plan to have several members of my team on guard twenty-four seven in your area. You might not see them, but they will still be there,” said the Sergeant.

“I’ll stay close by too,” said Kent. “My hotel is too far away, so I’ll sleep in my car at one of those houses under construction or something. That way if I’m needed, I’ll be ready.”

My father shook his head. “You can stay in our guest bedroom. The closer you are, the better protected Eden will be.”

“What about Veronica?” asked Kent.

“If it means keeping Eden safe, she will be willing to put up with it.”

Kent looked a little dubious, but didn’t say anything.

“Right, I think it was time I got the kids home,” said my father before turning back to the Sergeant and giving him a hard look. “We will talk more in the morning; this isn’t over. Come on you two.”

“But dad, we still don’t know where Harvard is. He was fighting some monster and told us to run. He could be hurt out there somewhere!”

-Like anything could hurt me,- said Harvard’s voice into my mind.

I turned in the direction I somehow knew it came from and there was Harvard in his normal form, tail a-wagging.

“Where have you been, Harvard?! I was so worried about you! Are you alright?” I said, sliding off the back of the truck to hurry towards him.

-Of course I’m alright; I’m a lot tougher than I look, and I had to rescue something very important,- he said solemnly.

“Something important? What was it?” I asked, noticing that he had something white gripped in his mouth.

-The leftovers from Anthony’s, of course!- he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. -I couldn’t let them stay out in the woods; something would have gotten them,- he gave me a sad look. -I can’t believe you were about to leave them like that.-

---

 
 
To Be Continued...