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I lay on my back, staring up at the white flakes as they floated down from the sky, only to hit and slide off an invisible wall a few inches above the window.
“I’m dreaming…” I sang to myself, “of a white Christmas…”
Of course, it wasn’t really snow that fell, but ash – ash from a city destroyed by an atomic detonation.
For the eight millionth time, I cursed the bastard Gabriel Gray. I had once been powerful, the trusted assassin and interrogator of a great company. Now I was trapped, forced to entertain the whims of two subjects who should be locked in their cells.
My stomach growled. Normally, I would have spent Christmas dining at an expensive restaurant, putting up with Dad’s stuck up colleagues, while I enjoyed a filling meal of turkey, mashed potatoes, and anything else I wanted. Now…
I propped myself up on an elbow, looking over at the meager collection of rations: whatever snacks Dr. Suresh had left behind when he deserted the loft. My stomach growled again, and I pressed a hand to my belly to alleviate the sharp pains that erupted.
I hate feeling pain. Causing sure, but feeling? Ugh. It’s a sensation meant for lower creatures…
Screw this. I went over to the pile lain out in the center of the mushroom cloud painted on the floor and selected an Apollo bar. I fumbled with the wrapper, when the sound must have awakened the cheerleader.
“Elle!” She stood up from where she was taking her nap, and raced forward, snatching the bar from my hands.
“You’ve already had your breakfast today,” the cheerleader stated in an authoritative tone.
I glared at her; how dare this lab specimen, who should be strapped to a table being cut apart, tell me what to do?
“I… need… food,” I explained slowly to allow her simple mind to keep up. I swiped the bar back and raised my left hand over her face, letting energy crackle over my fingertips. Even the dullest of creatures would be able to understand my threat. And if they didn’t? Well, that was also fun.
The bitch stood her ground.
“Peter?” she called, a dangerous tone to her voice.
Peter had been sitting with his back up against the desk for the past two days, focusing all his strength on keeping up the barrier that protected us from fallout. His eyes opened, and he looked over at us wearily.
“Elle, behave,” he ordered me firmly. “Save the chocolate for later.”
Scowling, I shoved it back in her hands, giving her a playful zap – just enough to make her wince. “Fine. Whatever.”
I stepped back away from the food, and leaned up against a wall. “You know, Christmas is supposed to be the time of giving.”
I looked at her pointedly.
She sighed. “That doesn’t mean giving to you, Elle. God, can you not think about yourself for ten minutes?”
I shrugged; it all depended on how important it was. If I was hunting, for instance, I’d take a day to study their file. Though if I was interrogating, I preferred to just skim the file and learn as I went along. Here, however, I was unable to enjoy myself as I otherwise would.
Technically, I supposed I could just zap her and take what I wanted, but then Peter would try to stop me. I’d just challenge him for the fun of it, but I knew I needed him to save his strength for keeping the loft safe. He was a lot more fun when he was locked in his cell, begging me for a jolt.
“You know, you aren’t the only one in this place who’s hurting,” she went on. Now that caught my attention. I studied her face and smiled at her distress.
“Mmm…” I put on my best look of sympathy. “Tell me about it,” I requested in what I hoped passed for a concerned tone.
To my delight, she began to cry. Though she still looked at me with anger, I watched with fascination as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Nearly half a million people are dead, Elle. Do you even care about that?”
Not really. However, I chose to respond as a normal girl would have – well, I think so anyway. “Of course I care,” I claimed. “How dare you think otherwise?”
I knew my father could very well have been killed in the explosion, and I let what feelings I had for him as a valued possession color my expressions.
Claire sniffled. “Sorry,” she muttered, wiping the tears off her face.
She apologized to me? Cool.
I wondered if she’d let me, I don’t know, hold her or something, but decided not to push it.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to sound as though I really was as emotional as I made myself out to be.
“You can have my candy,” I offered, playing the nice girl. In the end it wouldn’t matter; we’d have to sacrifice our meals or use up the supply.
“Uh, thanks?” she said, confusion apparent. I made a note to avoid that type of scenario until I could figure out what it was I had done wrong.
I just smiled, soaking up the discomfort that remained on her face. I thought about what it would be like to really hold her, feel the warmth from her body. Maybe I’d cup her chin as she cried, smiling at her comfortingly. I imagined cradling her in my arms as I flooded her body with enough electricity to make her scream.
“You’re welcome,” I said innocently.
Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I knew just the way to get a renewable food source. But now wasn’t the best time or place to bring it up. Smiling at Claire, I walked over to Peter. “Hey,” I said softly, “How you holding up?”
He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. “Okay.”
I could tell he wasn’t telling the truth, just putting on a brave front.
“You know, some tortures involve sleep deprivation,” I informed him. “I mean, I’ve never used them – mine give way long before that – but, I know it can’t be easy for you.”
I knelt down, so that I was just above eye-level with him.
“I could zap you,” I offered, letting my hands glow with energy. I lowered my voice, “I know you like that…”
“No!” he cried quickly, shaking his head and causing drops of sweat to fly off. Eew. “Too much of a shock could knock out the barrier.”
Disappointed, I retracted my energy. “Maybe some chocolate would help keep you awake, then?”
Recalling my genius idea, I darted my mouth over to his ear and whispered, “Plus, I figured out a way we could all enjoy a nice Christmas dinner. Claire can regenerate lost limbs, see. I say we cut off her arms – maybe her legs too – and then I could start a fire with my electricity…”
“We’re not eating Claire,” he interrupted in a whisper. “I don’t care if she can grow everything back. We’re not cannibals.”
“Suppose we run out of candy before the danger passes?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Are we supposed to die just because you feel squeamish?”
“I have her power too,” he said, closing his eyes. “If worst comes to worst…”
“What, you’ll cut something off?” I’m usually good at putting up with empathy, but now our lives were at stake. “You’re the one making the barrier! We don’t need you weaker than you already are.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “If worst comes to worst, I’ll present the idea to Claire, but you have to promise me that you won’t force her.”
It wasn’t an actual surrender, but it was close enough. “Fine.”
I keep my promises, believe it or not.
Holding back my electricity, I kissed him lightly. I really couldn’t do much, though, as any distraction could cause him to lose his hold. Bored, I went back over to Claire. It really was a pity I couldn’t play with her properly. Maybe after the storm passes, I should take her and come back for Peter later?
“What do you want?” she asked as I knelt down beside where she was sitting.
“Look,” I said, trying to sort my thoughts, “It’s Christmas, okay? We should… I don’t know, try to get along. At least for now.”
“I suppose…” she agreed. She sucked a breath through her teeth and stuck out her hand, “Claire…”
I grinned. I took her hand and sent a shock up her arm as we shook, “Elle…”
She winced as she withdrew her hand. “Why do you do that?”
“Hmm? It’s fun.” Then I was struck with another brilliant thought: Peter had said he was okay with eating parts of Claire as long as she chose to let us. Why wouldn’t the same hold true to a bit of zapping? “C’mon, don’t tell me you’ve never wanted someone to hurt you a little bit?”
“Uh, no,” she denied. “Never.”
I made a disbelieving sound. “You should try to be more open. Try new things. You never know what you might enjoy.”
I offered my hand to her, making it glow with energy.
“Uh, no. Thank you.” She shook her head, and edged slightly away from my hand. “That’s really… not my thing.”
Disappointed but not discouraged, I let my hand drop, the electricity vanishing inside me once more. After all, this was a vast improvement to what had gone on mere moments before. “So, what is your thing?”
“What?”
“What are you into?” I clarified. I then smirked. “Besides the flying boy, I mean.”
“Oh, we’re not together anymore,” she said, looking a trifle startled soon after she spoke.
Didn’t mean to say that, did you? The cheerleader certainly seemed to be warming up to me. Interesting…
“I mean,” she continued, “Cheerleading used to be a big thing for me. But since I, you know, got my power, I’ve just been kind of distracted…”
Uh-oh. I was making her think about the company. Not good. Time for a subject change. “It’s a cool power. You’re practically immortal, just so long as nothing penetrates your skull.
I tapped her forehead for emphasis, making her flinch back.
“What it must be like to be able to heal at once…” I pulled up a pant leg to reveal a scar from a burn wound I had gotten from over a decade ago, when I was still being careless with my power. “Never to have scars to mar your beauty…”
“It is cool,” she admitted, almost reluctant to voice it. “One time, there was this guy… he tried to hurt me, so I… offered to drive him home. The plan was to kamikaze the thing, and then walk away without a scratch.”
Ooh. I listened eagerly. Now this was a side of the cheerleader I hadn’t seen before. “Did it work?”
“Not… really.”Claire sighed, looking down at her lap. “He survived… and threatened me. Dad and the Haitian got to him, erased his memories.”
I couldn’t help but shiver. The Haitian’s power was certainly among the most unnerving I had encountered. “That revenge savory enough for you, Claire? Would you have preferred your dad sent me to finish the job? I would have been glad to make him suffer for his crimes.”
I made electricity dance around my fingers with excitement at the thought.
“I… guess I would have at the time,” she admitted. “I mean, I tried to kill him… but if I did… if you did… I guess now I’d feel guilty. So, I’m glad that the Haitian got to him, and not you or, uh, me.”
“Oh.” A bit disappointing, but certainly interesting overall. “How else do you have fun with it? When you’re not playing ‘kamikaze’, I mean.”
“Well, sometimes I just see what kind of crazy stuff I can survive.”
She smiled at some happy memories.
“…Like?” I demanded. “Details.”
“Oh,” she waved her hand as though it was all silly. “Cut myself up, tried to hang myself, tried e- ele- electrocution…”
I grinned.
She hastily went on. “Got hit with a car, jumped from some high places… That’s pretty much it.”
“So, what you’re saying,” I said grinning, “Is that for fun you electrocuted yourself?”
I offered her my hand again and this time put twice as much energy into it.
“That’s… that’s not what I meant.” She held her hands up between us as if to protect herself, as though I couldn’t zap her in any position she choose to place herself in.
“What did you mean?” I asked, slightly increasing the voltage. It would be her own fault for denying her nature.
“I meant… It was just about living through it,” she explained, looking at my hand warily. “Knowing that anyone else couldn’t survive… that’s powerful.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got enough power to give you your thrills,” I promised, making my handshake into a lethal weapon, the glow bright enough to cast light all over the shadowed loft. “C’mon, Claire. Give me your hand. Let’s have some fun.”
To my delight, she slowly lifted her hand… but then dropped it. “No, thank you. I don’t feel like it right now.”
For an instant, I wanted to disregard her words entirely and make her play… But, of course, that was not an option. I powered down my hand and let it fall to my side. “Sorry.”
“That’s all right…” she said in reply.
She was wary now, though, and I did not want her like this. Unless she trusted me, I doubted I could convince her to let me hurt her…
“It’s getting dark,” she interrupted my thoughts.
I looked at the windows; indeed it was. None of us had a watch, but I was willing to wager it was somewhere between 3:00 PM and 4:00 PM. “It does that in winter.”
“You wanna split that candy bar?” she offered.
My eyebrow rose. Wow, I nearly coerced her into playing, and she’s sharing her dinner?
“Sure.” I nodded excitedly. I remained put as Claire fetched the Apollo bar we had fought over earlier. What a petty fight it was.
“Is that dark chocolate or milk chocolate?” I asked as she returned.
“I don’t really know,” she shrugged. As I watched, she broke off a piece about a third of the size of the whole bar.
Ah. I wasn’t sure why, but I had expected Claire would split it down the middle. Oh, well, at least it’s something.
I held out a hand for my share and was startled when Claire handed me the large portion.
“Why?” I asked with a blink.
“I felt bad about keeping the bar from you before,” she explained. “Consider it your Christmas gift.”
“Oh…” Christmas was a ritual I understood. I looked down at the chocolate. “I don’t have a gift for you…”
“That’s okay. I wasn’t expecting anything, anyway.” She held up her piece as though making a toast. “Cheers.”
How cute. We tapped our chocolate together and ate in silence.
“Well,” I said when we had finished, “I guess we should call it a day.”
The lights were dim enough that it would only be moments before we would plunge into darkness.
“I guess so.” Claire stood, going to bring Peter a bar.
“Good night,” I muttered, curling up on a makeshift bed made of papers taken from Suresh’s files. I suppose I should have gone to sleep, but instead I thought about Claire.
She really was a nice girl. Not the pathetic kindness used by the weak, either. No, Claire was strong, much stronger than I had anticipated. Nor was she a threat, a rival for power.
Yes, she had the abilities to take me on. Despite my strength, her healing would make her nearly impossible to take out. But she wouldn’t play that game, not unless I forced her. She seemed perfectly content to maintain an equal footing, perhaps even willing to let me hurt her at some point.
But as it was, she would be letting me. I didn’t have her at my mercy. It was almost like letting her have power over me. I made a face at the thought.
I thought instead about Peter, back when I had him in his cell. Now that had been fun. Just a little zap every day for months at a time, working him down until he loved it.
Or at least just liked it. Come to think of it, he was just trying to manipulate me. Distract me while he avoided taking his pills so he could escape. Ugh. Toys were not supposed to play with their owners.
No, Peter wasn’t a good toy at all. Once I was able to zap him without risking our lives, I doubted he’d let me. He would have power over me, and it was that reason that I decided to end our games right then. At least until I could get him in the proper position somehow.
I briefly thought about how I could accomplish such a thing. It involved finding the Haitian, bribing him somehow, and building a better prison… if the Haitian was even still alive. I nearly groaned in disgust at my misfortune, but held it in so Peter wasn’t tempted to have a look inside my head.
At least Claire only had one power. As egalitarian as she was, she wouldn’t vie for control. Well, I didn’t think she would anyway.
I didn’t like being in other peoples’ power; but then, she wouldn’t really be above me. If she were to ever let me zap her, she would be relenting. Breaking prisoners was loads of fun, that’s for sure. But having someone so strong like Claire surrender to my pain… Well, that made my teeth buzz with excitement.
I licked my lips. I would have to be cool about this. Peter couldn’t be allowed to see my daydreams. It would be too risky.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to get to sleep. However, there was far too much on my mind right now to slip off to slumber land. After what could have been hours, I opened my eyes and glanced around.
In the dark, shadowy room, I could just make out the figures of Claire and Peter. I listened carefully, hearing her slow and heavy breathing. Asleep.
I carefully slipped my legs off of the pile of papers, trying to make as little noise as possible. What I was planning to do was rather risky, what with Peter right there, but I was confident that the combination of the night and what distance there was between him and where Claire was sleeping would keep him from paying close attention.
Standing up cautiously, I crept over to where Claire lay curled up in bits of canvas, upon which Isaac Mendez had once predicted what was to come. Her face was exposed to the night, a pale contrast to the dark studio. As am I a dark contrast to you.
I lowered my face down close to hers; for all I could tell, she was fast asleep.
“Claire?” I whispered.
She made a twitching movement, but otherwise seemed oblivious of me.
“You’re a very nice girl, Claire,” I told her as she slept. I was sure her subconscious would recognize and remember what I was saying, but not actually let her remember me saying anything – a fun little trick. “I’m going to make you mine… Your every thought will be of pleasing me. You’ll beg me to jolt you, and you’ll enjoy it when I do.” I grinned as she made a face in her sleep. “That’s right, Claire, you’ll like it. I promise.”
Leaning over, I gently pressed my lips against her forehead, resisting the urge to send my electricity through her – that would happen later. “Merry Christmas.”