Chapter 1: Two sides of a coin
"There are two kinds of people in this world. One half is ordinary. The other… Is extraordinary. Take a guess at who is ostracized. This story I tell is not a happy one, but it is also not completely a sad one. Like all things in life… It's complicated. But perhaps it's best if I start at the beginning… When division reigned supreme, even among allies…"
- The Bronx. New York.
He was trapped. Now in a mask, but it wasn't much of a change. His arms were tied, but the claws on each one lay still, the talons limp, useless. His legs, weirdly furry and scaly, dragged in the mud. He was bloodied, he was bruised, he was beaten.
He wasn't a man. He was barely a boy.
The flakey grey skies cracked with rain, but there were significantly tiny cracks, like those on broken glass, somewhere among the clouds. Every now and again a door suddenly slammed, a window suddenly opened, and gun barrels melted ever so slightly.
His gift, she called it. His blessing. Something that put him above the rest, something that made him even more special, according to her.
But they were just cracks. She wasn't gonna fall through any of them any time soon.
She… She was…
If he had just used it,if he could just have been stronger… Less bound…
"Hey, what's the matter, jew?", one of the soldiers asked, smacking the boy on the head with his club. The boy didn't budge, he stood straight and tall as a tree, hot tears streaming down as he realized it was his fault, all of this was.
"Jew. I won't ask again.", The soldier threatened, hitting the boy again. The boy took a deep breath and dared to look his captor in the eye. The mask hid his face, but his anger was clear even then.
"He's gone stiff. Knock him out with the barrel.", the other soldier suggested. The first soldier aimed his gun, but by then the boy had had enough.
A barrel went for his head, but the gun was liquid by the time it had arrived, melting in the soldiers hands like goo. "What the hell?", the soldier asked, but the boy had already begun running, trying so hard to reach the other camp, cause maybe, just maybe…
"Mama!", the boy cried, hoping against hope she would hear him. The rain got stronger, bucketloads falling and filling the ground until there was almost a pool. His bare feet sent splashes all over the place, and he began to float in the air.
The barbed wire gate. It was keeping him away. Blocking him.
"Mama!"
He narrowed his eyes. It had to be destroyed. He focused all his power on it, bending it, bending it. It began to disassemble, sweat trickling down the boy's face, blood running down from his temples as he focused all his power, but something was stopping him.
"Mama, I'm… I'm…", he choked out, but he couldn't, he couldn't…
And then the guards leapt on him and knocked him out with the other gun.
The last thing he could see was someone spit on his mark of shame, the yellow star on his coat, and it all went black.
Meanwhile, somewhere else, a little girl was sleeping in her warm bed, surrounded by pictures of great minds and books that filled the imagination. The pillows were soft, the blanket was nearly overflowing, and the cool night air kept her just the right temperature.
But even in comfort a bump in the night is no laughing matter.
The silk carpeted floors barely made a sound as she made her way down the hall, suits of armor seemingly saluting her brave quest to find the culprit. Her white nightgown sparkled almost in the moonlight as she crept into the kitchen, baseball bat in hand.
The kitchen was still spotless, but it was no longer unoccupied. Fortunately, it was a friendly face: Her mother, with a velvet dress and a diamond smile. She was staring into the fridge before, but now she greeted her girl with a naughty grin, as if she were caught.
"Mother… What are you doing? You frightened me.", The sleepy girl accused, a hint of suspicion in her voice. She seemed to be staring all around the room, noticing things. A bright girl, she was, attentive in her studies, but even for her this was a lot of looking.
"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, I was just getting a little snack.", The mother replied with an apologetic smile. The daughter merely frowned, though, and stepped closer.
"Really?", the daughter asked, and the mother's left eye ever so slightly averted her gaze before resuming.
"Do you want me to make you something? Like some hot chocolate?", she resumed being all warm and bubbly, but the daughter didn't stop frowning.
Now the Daughter was sending daggers with her stare.
"Nice try, but my mother never comes down here, and she NEVER makes me anything, unless you count asking the maid."
The "Mother" gulped and she began to step back. This was still salvageable, she just had to leave through the window and…
"What is your plan? What are you doing here? And why do you look like my mother?"
The questions came thick and fast, but not from the daughter's lips… From her mind.
The "Mother" gasped, and she began to shiver. What was this? Who could do this?
Wait…
That meant…
But…
Suddenly, the "Mother" stopped in her tracks, and her skin seemed to peel back, almost like a caterpillar leaving it's pupa. Out of this pupa came out a black as night girl, a little blue tinge, but mostly black, with stars all over her dress. Her eyes were black, her hair was black, even her tongue was black. She was almost invisible at this night hour, and she was clearly ashamed.
"I… I thought I was the only one."
The daughter took in this info, and suddenly smiled brightly. "Me too!"
The nightsky girl looked up with surprise. "You're… You're not afraid?"
The daughter nodded quickly and seemed to be checking off a mental checklist. "I knew there had to be more like me, and you're not just like me, you're incredible! You can shapeshift!"
The nightsky girl smiled shyly. "Well, it's nowhere near as cool as what you did. You spoke in my head!"
The daughter stepped forwards to greet the night sky girl, but there was also some sadness. "I could also read a little of your head, and… You don't have to steal."
The night sky girl looked up with surprise.
"In fact…", the daughter continued. "You never will. We have more than enough food. People like us need to stick together!"
The night sky girl had always been so afraid of what people would think. Yet here was someone like her, yet also normal, and she… She wasn't afraid.
The daughter offered her hand with a brilliant smile. "Celestia Aldrich!"
The night sky girl cautiously shook back, slowly smiling. "…Luna."
23:55. The office of Abacus Cinch.
A lonely golden bell, and a bronze penny laid on the ivory desk that brightly shone. A chocolate bar had been opened, and the person eating it was offering some to the child in front of them.
He still had the mask on, it was bloodier now.
"John… That was your name, right? You… You people have names, right?", Abacus asked, mouth full of chocolate.
He didn't answer.
"Won't you have some? All children like chocolate.", Abacus asked, smiling like a grandmother almost.
He didn't take it.
"Don't you want something to eat, John?", she asked, innocence in her eyes.
"I want…", he began, before struggling. He… He couldn't spit it out.
His talons recoiled, and the fur on his legs bristled.
"Want… What? It's bad enough you can't look at me, John. Least you can do is look me in the eyes."
Abacus remained seated, but she held the room with her calm voice as she slowly talked to the shivering boy in front of her. "After all, how can you ever be a man when you can't stare on in the face?"
This seemed to speak to John enough to try and do that. His animal hands slowly but surely reached to remove the mask, but they were so jittery that he ended up slashing his face a little, leaving scratch marks and another dent.
Not that he minded. His face was ugly, after all.
The half boy half horse face, disfigured, inhuman, nearly began to cry as it was exposed to light, to another person. But Abacus merely smiled.
"There, there. Isn't that better? Now everyone can see you're special."
She scoffed. "I'm not like those Nazis outside, John. The gene stuff, they're on to something, I won't deny. But this blonde hair? Blue eyes? Eh?", she asked, and John slowly nodded, agreeing at least with that last part.
"It's… Illogical. You are being hurt for things beyond your control. And all that, despite possessing a gift no man could ever dream of. You shouldn't be hurt; you should be rewarded! Rewarded for being extraordinary! You know how many people you could help with this? This gift?", she asked, hopeful, but John didn't even try to think about it, he shook his head.
"I… I can't help."
"Of course you can.", Abacus said, and she pointed at the coin. "A coin is nothing compared to that gate. Or those guns. Or the sky above us, filled with suspicious cracks. Why, you could have done this when you were a baby!"
John looked at the coin. He wanted to try, he felt that it would help him somehow. But… His heart wasn't in it.
He furrowed his brow and pointed his hands but it did nothing.
"I can't… I'm sorry."
"It's all right. You just need the right… Incentive.", Abacus said, and she rang a bell.
Suddenly, the soldiers who had dragged John were now dragging in his mother.
"Mama?", John asked, crying. She was alive? She was still there?
"John…", she whispered, crying too. They ran to hug each other…
But she was pulled away, and so was he.
Abacus merely sat and observed, speaking as if she were to a student dealing with a challenging math problem. "It's simple, John. You have a gift. You must use it. You must be a man. But you can only be a man if you stop these humans from stepping all over you. Lift the coin."
She lifted a pistol.
"And if by the count of 3 you haven't… Your mother is dead. But, if you can, she lives. It's that simple. Yes or no. Stop or go. A man must make those decisions every day. So which will it be?"
John breathed sharply, jaggedly. His floppy ears drooped and his talon dug into his palms.
"You can do it. It's ok. It's ok.", his mother said, and John stared at the coin and squeezed his brain to lift it.
"1…", Abacus said, not bothering to look at the mother, but only at John.
John felt his heart beat race, his temples sweat. Blood was once more trickling down from his face, but the coin wouldn't budge.
"2…", Abacus continued, finger on the trigger.
"It's ok, John. It's ok.", she said, but John couldn't give up, he couldn't. He had to try, he had to try for her, these abilities had to be useful just this once, just this once…
He could barely hear anything but his heart beat like a drum, he felt his hands seer with pain, his head burn like it was in flames, the coin wouldn't budge, the coin wouldn't budge…
"3…", Abacus said, allowing a few more seconds for the boy to try.
And just for a flicker of an instant, the coin seemed to move… And John grinned…
BANG.
But it was too late.
"We'll have to try again, then. Until you can move it properly."
John could barely look back. He didn't need to. Instead, he felt something… Wake up.
Words did not come to him. Only feelings. Only rage. Only grief.
The bell began to melt. It bent and bent and went into itself and slowly fell over, limp. Abacus grinned, pleased. "Wonderful! That's more like it!"
This made John even angrier. He turned around, to the soliders, and roared at them, as their helmets squeezed on their heads until they blew up, blood splattering all over him.
"Excellent!", Abacus cheered on, and soon the drawers were turning inside out, the papers were covering the walls, the wallpaper peeled off, the windows shattered and reassembled, and shattered, and reassembled. The room next to the office, filled with weapons, woke up to life, and John willed all the guns and knives and swords to smash around the room, spraying bullets all over, as he roared and roared and roared. The room began to spin around, Abacus not even leaving her chair, and finally the whole room was in shambles…
Outside of the coin.
John breathed heavier and heavier and heavier, tears streaming down his face as he broke down on the floor.
Abacus merely placed a hand on his shoulder. "Excellent progress. We can channel it with anger, then. Good. We will find what else makes you feel that way."
She then placed the coin in his hand. "Here. For luck. Maybe one day you can be a man and avenge her death. And that will be my greatest success. Goodnight!"
And she walked out, as John kept weeping, the coin digging into his palm. His talons clutched the coin.
And the room began to spin, a symphony of discord.
