1.1 Crappy Monday

I, Erind Hartwell, almost died on the day I got superpowers.

Good thing I didn’t or there’d be one less cute girl on this dirtball of a planet. Or maybe… the world wasn’t so lucky that I survived. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Like many movies set in a bustling city, we open with rush hour.

Cue in upbeat music that vaguely sounded like a popular song because the studio couldn’t afford the real thing.

An hour before sunrise, I was halfway from my condo building to the nearest train station. I was riding my bike, of course. You know me, Ms. Environment Friendly—this was the reason I gave whenever someone asked why I didn’t have a car.

Mom offered to buy me one before so I could drive to and from university; I had driving lessons before. Gas would also be on her, she said. But I refused her. I had no shame being a leech of a daughter, but I had other reasons. First, I hated parking. I abhorred parking with all my being, finding an empty spot and doing whatever maneuver that was to reverse the car into place. Tried it a few times and hated it. Second, I get to take the moral high ground when topics about the environment cropped up. Third, I was short, maybe five feet tall during the Earth’s aphelion, when it was most distant from the sun. Gravity was supposed to be weaker then, right? Maybe four-eleven otherwise. Dunno if that was how science worked. Point was, it was hard to reach the pedal, I had to crane my neck to see the road and other bullshit.

And the last and more important reason was… there were times I wanted to ram people on the road.

Now, I knew I wasn’t alone in this. Plenty of road-raging drivers out there. But in my case, it wasn’t that I hated pedestrians or I lost my temper anything. I was just curious what would happen if I rammed people. They’d die. Obviously. I meant the specifics of it, like how would they get squished and would I hear the crunch of their bones inside the car?

I’m not normal. I admit that. But I wasn’t super weird either. This was like being anxious about dropping a baby, which was why many people didn’t want to hold babies. I looked it up on the internet. It was a real phenomenon.

Okay, maybe the baby-dropping thing and my ramming-pedestrian thing weren’t the same.

Maybe.

Fortunately, I have my Rules to keep me integrated as a functioning member of society.

Rule #4: I could only bother someone if they bothered me.

No ramming people because they weren’t doing anything to me. Perhaps someday, if someone did bother me, I could run them over. But today wasn’t that day. And I couldn’t squish anyone with my bike. My bike was very handy in getting me to the train station though.

Oh, right. I could weave through traffic on my bike. That was another reason for not driving a car.

I turned the corner and slowed down as I neared the stairs going down to the subway. I fixed my glasses as I alighted my bike. Then I folded my bike with some effort, joining the crowd as a normal girl going to university. Many thanks to whoever invented folding bikes. Though a folded bike was less of a hassle to carry around than a regular one, it was still heavy, especially for my small frame. How I wished I had super strength.

Hang on! If a deity was listening to me, I wanted to change my wish to make the line snaking into the train station go faster. It was six in the morning. Rush hour should just be starting. It was never this packed during my previous semester. What was the hold-up?

If there was anything I hated more than parking… Actually, I hated a lot of things more than parking a car. And one of them was getting hemmed in all sides by warm bodies. Physical contact should be reserved for wrestling. Being short, I was clouded by the polluted breaths of those taller than me. Which was mostly everyone. Also, physical contact made me want to lash out.

“As if Mondays weren’t bad enough,” I muttered, keeping calm. It was just the second week of the second semester and I was already grumpy.

As I descended the stairs to the train station entrance, I spotted people in grey overalls working on the bioscanners flanking the doorway. Those were always out of order and this was the day they chose to fix it? They should’ve done it after the rush hour. Weekends were a better idea. In place of the bioscanner, they had someone with a portable bioscanner, the small one that just examined the hand instead of the entire body. The guy tasked to check people before they entered was having a worse Monday than mine.

“Have you disinfected that thing?” a wide man in a wool suit demanded, his voice whiny. I was right behind him in line so I could hear their conversation. Wool Asshole was shouting anyway, so everyone did hear everything he was saying.

“Yes, sir,” replied Bioscanner Guy. “We spray it with this—”

“I’m not going to put my hand in there! I have the right against indiscriminate testing. I am not some common criminal to be subjected to this.”

“Just put your friggin’ hand in already, old man!” someone yelled from behind. “We need to go places.”

“Look at me,” Wool Asshole told Bioscanner Guy. “I’m a respected businessman.”

Respected businessman in taking the subway, I sarcastically quipped in my head.

“I’m not an Adumbrae, okay?” Wool Asshole said. “This city hasn’t had a seeding since, I don’t know, seven years ago or so. Do you think I’ll be an Adumbrae?”

“I’m just doing my job, sir. Please place—”

“Look at this girl.” Wool Asshole gestured to me. Bisocanner Guy, the workers, and the others in line turned to me.

What is this bastard doing? I was keeping to myself and then he bothered me. I didn’t want attention on me so early in the morning. I adjusted my glasses and looked down.

“Do you think she’s an Adumbrae?” Wool Asshole asked. “Clearly, not. Now, you wouldn’t want her to put her hand inside that thing and get infected with the germs of other people, right? Not this frail girl who—”

“Sir, place your hand inside the scanner.” The cop assigned to patrol the subway came to check the commotion. “Comply or we’ll arrest you on suspicions of seeding.”

Wool Asshole jammed his hand into the bioscanner, shoving the guy holding it. “I’ve got an important meeting to attend and you’re delaying me.”

The scanner flashed green but he was stopped yet again by the cop for a ‘random’ bag inspection. The other people in line cheered as Wool Asshole kept yelling how important he was. Arrogant and annoying he may be, Wool Asshole wasn’t stupid enough to stop the cop from checking his bag. There were plenty of witnesses to testify that he initially refused the bioscanner, which would count as a reasonable suspicious circumstance under a long line of cases. That was one of the first things we learned during Criminal Law class.

I was scanned and allowed to pass with no issue but didn’t continue on. I observed Wool Asshole from behind the river of people heading deeper into the subway station. After the cop let Wool Asshole go, I followed him, wondering how to bother him. I jostled through the crowd, a monumental effort while carrying my bike, to get close without getting noticed.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

It may seem that I wanted revenge but not quite. Since I usually wore a timid face—I even got fake glasses for this—it was rare for people to bother me, equating to fewer opportunities for bothering others. This was my chance to enjoy myself. Ruining this man’s day even a tiny bit would make my day better.

His bag is open, I noted, coming up with a plan.

In his haste to leave, Wool Asshole zipped his leather suitcase only halfway. The edge of a notebook poked out the backside. Its crinkled profile meant that it was well-used. Likely important.

As the people sped up walking upon hearing the horn of the next train, I pulled the notebook out of Wool Asshole’s bag and dropped it on the floor. He didn’t notice what I did and rushed forward to get on the train. Mission accomplished.

“Excuse me, sir!” a man loudly said. “You dropped this!”

Or not.

Looking over my shoulder, someone picked up the notebook. I hurried over. “I think that’s mine.”

“You sure? I think it was the huge guy who dropped it.”

“Ah, you’re right. It’s not mine. Sorry for the mistake.”

The man looked around. “Huh, where did he go?”

I shrugged. “You should deposit that with the lost and found. Free yourself from any accountability and stuff.”

As the man turned around and went the other way, I patted myself for a job well done. It was times like these that I enjoyed life. Well, not necessarily ‘enjoyed’. That was too strong a word and I rarely felt much emotion. ‘Entertained’ was a better term.

But I knew my limits—this was where Rule #4 came in.

Yes, magnanimous me would willingly resign myself to a life of absolute normalcy as my act of great service to this world… so long as it didn’t bother me. Call it good manners, like not chewing loudly in a restaurant because that was super annoying and disgusting. In turn, I'd appreciate it if other people had the decency to leave me alone. I was already doing my best to be a run-of-the-mill citizen.

Sometimes, I welcomed the bothering so I could stretch my legs. Only sometimes.

Dad would be proud of me if he were still around. He influenced my first few Rules, including Rule #4. He’d tell me, “Be a good person if only not to add to the bad people in the world. There are more than enough of them already.” Something like that. Hard to recall his exact words because it had been so long since we last talked.

Not sure what other parents taught their kids, but even as a child, I sensed that Dad’s life lessons were odd. The way he phrased it… he could’ve stopped at ‘be a good person.’ He might’ve suspected his beloved daughter wasn’t exactly normal.

I looked up at the clock. “Guess I’ll have to wait for the next train.”

I got in line and passed the time watching one of the many screens scattered throughout the station while flicking my keychain of the granny wolf from the Little Red Riding Hood story—Mom got me this souvenir from France because I loved that story as a kid.

The screen replayed the usual Public Service Announcement about watching out for Adumbrae. Check those to your left and right for any inhuman growths on their bodies. Be aware of suspicious actions, sudden personality changes, and different routines. Most importantly, don’t listen to the voices in your head. It also encouraged people to report anyone they think might’ve been seeded by Adumbrae, otherworldly entities, to the authorities.

The video then displayed corpses of famous Adumbrae and their kill count, like the multi-armed One-Eyed Dismantler of Oklahoma which wiped out a small town of six hundred and thirty-four people in one night. Supposedly, it systematically ripped the people apart and categorized their body parts in each house.

Quite a hobby.

It was like those PSAs about the danger of smoking cigarettes that showed pictures of rotten teeth and shriveled black lungs. This PSA about monsters and was more interesting though.

Suspicious people, suspicious people, I sang in my head as I subtly observed the people around me. People-watching was one of my hobbies.

Most of them were in corporate attire, ready to start their day of capitalism. I used to be one of them when I worked at a law firm as a paralegal.

Standing out was the guy in front wearing a flashy shirt with pictures of Corebring Isolde all over. She was voted to be the most beautiful of the Corebrings—no clue who did the voting—and she really leaned into it, almost becoming like their brand ambassador or something. She wasn’t particularly strong, I had heard. I hadn’t watched any videos of her fights to know. But she certainly could barbecue all of us here with energy beams or whatever her superpowers were supposed to be.

Someone actually suspicious? I noticed a guy wearing a hoodie. And he looked a bit nervous and moody.

Hey, that rhymed! This was going to be a good day.

A hoodie alone wasn’t suspicious; I was wearing a hoodie too since the January air was cold while I biked.

But he was fidgeting and stealing glances at people. He also looked super pale, the sickly kind of pale not my sort of paleness. And were those veins up the side of his cheek? Might be an addict looking to pickpocket someone for money to buy drugs. La Esperanza was a particularly safe city, including its subways, but there was news of people going missing lately.

Could also be that I was judgmental.

The next train arrived and people spilled out. Probably best not to be on the same train car as Fidgeting Hoodie. Judgmental me, so be it.

I was about to move away and transfer to a line going to another carriage when I bumped into a bouncy stomach covered in wool.

“There you are, girlie,” Wool Asshole said, hands on his hips. “You were behind me in line earlier. Did you see a notebook?”

I innocently blinked. “A notebook?”

“My notebook!” he yelled. I took a step back. Other people stared at us because he was so loud. “It’s, it’s—I forgot what color it was. A damn notebook! It has important notes for my meeting.”

“I-I haven’t seen any notebook,” I said, pretending to be scared.

He ruffled his hair as he grunted in frustration. “I don’t have time for this. I can’t be late!” He pushed his way into the railcar.

I didn’t want to get on but someone offered to help me carry my bike inside. With the flow of other people, I had no other choice. Good thing that it wasn’t cramped yet because this was only the third station in the line. I found a place to seat not too far from Wool Asshole so I could watch the show.

He was on his phone, yelling at someone to search his office for the stupid notebook.

“A good start to the day,” I said, checking my appearance on my phone’s camera. I ticked off the components of my timid-nerdy-girl face that I used for law school.

Just a light touch of makeup to achieve the supposedly no makeup look—pale girls like me were vampire victims if we didn’t wear any makeup. I ruffled my black wavy hair a bit so it wouldn’t look like I was particularly interested in my appearance, resting some locks on my shoulders while letting the rest fall down my back. A bit of a slouch, a bowing neck, and to finish it off, my glasses. These weren’t prescription glasses; my eyesight was very much fine. I wore them because they were an integral part of this face.

The timid-nerdy-girl face worked well in my first semester, not threatening at all and not aggravating any of the huge egos in law school. I’d use the same for this semester and maybe tweak it for next year. Something more assertive.

I browsed for movies to watch. Time to wile away twenty minutes.

“Get away from me!” It was Wool Asshole again. Fidgeting Hoodie stood beside him. “Are you stealing from me, you pasty kid?”

People moved away from them. Fidgeting Hoodie didn’t say anything. No reaction as Wool Asshole shoved him back, continuing to accuse him of being a thief.

I think I prefer quiet mornings, I thought, standing up to transfer to another carriage.

A sudden scream made me look back.

I blinked a few times, wondering if what I was seeing was real.

Fidgeting Hoodie opened his mouth wide. Out came a dark tentacle, stretching a foot long and pointing at Wool Asshole.

“Adumbrae…?” I whispered.

The tentacle stabbed Wool Asshole’s head, punched straight through, scattering brains and blood behind him.