Ultimate S.H.A.D.E. #4: Gaze at You

[jackalope]

Ultimate S.H.A.D.E. #4
Gaze at You, From Across the Room

The atmosphere is getting really relaxed. Lyta smiles as she looks around people who had turned up, most from her dorm floor, sitting around now, chatting and drinking. She hits the button on her iPod and scrolls through until she finds the right playlist. She hits play. The speakers start pumping out the beat, then the melody kicks in. She turns and sees Toby, wearing one of his multiple plaid shirts (the only type of clothing he seems to own), standing on the other side of the room. He nods and gives her a thumbs up. He's a bit of a country bumpkin but at least he has a decent taste in music. She smiles back and tries to judge how many more drinks she's going to need before she goes over and actually talks to him. One or two at most.

Kirsty, her dorm mate, seems to have a natural talent for these things. Three weeks into the first semester and she's already organised the first real party of the dorm's freshmen. Though she calls it a 'gathering,' either way it's going way better than Lyta expected. She takes another sip of the cup. Kirsty comes out from their small kitchenette with a bag of chips that she throws onto the wooden board on top of a few bricks that is standing in for a coffee table right now.

Lyta goes back to the couch and sits down, managing to squeeze between a dreadlocked guy from her history course, and pretty girl from the next room over. Lyta turns to her. “So what happens at these things, spin the bottle or...?”

The pretty girl regards her with a slightly pitying look. “Spin the bottle is what highschoolers do, we're in Uni now. Any drinking games we play will be way more interesting.”

Lyta starts to feel slightly uncomfortable, when Kirsty chimes in. “No drinking games.” Her voice is loud enough that most of the people in the room turn to listen to her. “This is not a party,” she shakes her head, “this is a gathering.” Everyone seems unsure of what she means until she turns to the red headed guy beside her. “You got the shit?”

The red headed guy smiles, quickly adjusting his thick black glasses, and pulls out a giant bag of pungent green leaves. The dreadlocked guy laughs, slapping his leg. “Well Sammy, I hope you brought enough for everyone.” The room cheers, lifting their paper cups in appreciation. A giant glass bong is soon pulled out, and people slowly gather around in a natural circle, drawn to the bubbling and giggling.

Kirsty sucks in, holding her breath for a few seconds, then blowing out. Hers eyes already bloodshot, she nods, “good shit.” She passes it on around the circle. The conversation starts to change, and people start to laugh harder and longer.

“You hear someone stole the Flash's shoes?”

“Which one?”

“What would be the best super power?”

“Flight!”

“No dude, mind control. Get shit done, get shit for free.”

“Hear about the guy in Metropolis?”

“Fuck that, you hear about the shit in Gotham?”

The bong is passed to the pretty girl by Lyta. She shakes her head, “I need to use the little girls’ room.” She stands, passing the bong to Lyta and walks to the toilet. Suddenly, Lyta's heart is beating fast, she's excited. She's at university now, and she's here now having a genuine University experience. Someone sits down beside. It's Toby. He looks at her, smiling, and rubs his hands on his jeans.

“You ever done this?” She considers lying but shakes her head. He nods and points to a hole on the bong. “Keep that covered when you start sucking it in, then release when you’re like halfway through. You need to get the flame right on the bowl.”

She laughs at him. “Toby the pothead?” He shrugs. She puts the flame in the bowl and starts sucking. She holds it but then starts coughing rapidly. He pats her on the back. Her eyes are watering. “I don't feel anything...”

He shakes his head. “Don't worry, first time you usually don't. Try another hit I you want, but just to warn you, the first time can be a little scary.”

She sucks again, closing her eyes, taking in a lung-full. She holds it in, for as long as possible. Finally she blows it out in one big rush. When she opens her eyes the room is looking at her. By the slightly itchy feeling she thinks her eyes must be red. The room breaks out laughing. She joins them.

“Pass it along stoner.”

“Give her a break, it's her dorm room.”

“She's gonna be so hungry later.”

She passes the bong along. She feels a strange turning inside her. She looks to Toby. He nods. “You feeling it?” She nods. “Well things might feel weird but that's normal, you just have to remember is it fades. By morning everything will be back to normal.” She smiles what feels like the biggest smile she's ever smiled. Funny how she’s never thought about what it feels like to smile. She brings her hand up to her face and lightly brushes her skin. She can feel the tiny soft hairs.

She looks at Toby. He seems like a nice guy. And pretty interesting too. Who knew they smoked pot in the country? Guess it would be grown there though. He looks a tiny bit nervous. He did sit down beside her. That must be a sign. His slight stubble suited him, definitely just out of high school though. And he had a nice shaped nose. Like Heath Ledger did. Can't believe he's dead. But Toby isn't. His leg is touching hers. But it is a small couch.

His eyes met hers. Green, not like her brown. Her heart is beating so fast. His forehead wrinkles, as if he's unsure about something. She wonders if it something on her face. She brushes her skin again. It feels smooth, with tiny little grooves. His eyes widen. She tries to scratch off whatever the thing is stuck to her face, but her nails are so sharp that they almost cut her skin. Toby is staring at her. It must be part of the whole getting high paranoia thing he mentioned. She's probably over-analysing everything. She looks at her hand. Her hands look like claws, her skin seems slightly scales, coloured a brown/green. She tries to get some sort of confirmation from Toby that she’s hallucinating, but he's leaning back from her, his face contorted strangely. She looks at his eyes, so deep and green, vibrating minutely and realises it is fear that he's showing. A panic rises through her. Is it her? They were getting along so well just moments ago. Why is her heart beating so hard?

He opens his mouth, looking like he's about to scream. She reaches out to reassure him but it is a claw that moves towards him, not her hand. He lifts his arm in front of him and stops. She's terrified now. He won’t even move now, and he is just staring at her. Staring. Like she's a monster. His skin is turning grey. She opens her mouth, “Toby?”

Behind her she feels something slide along her back. She turns and sees a snake. She screams, and the dreadlocked guy turns and screams as well, but he's screaming at the sight of her, not the snake. He jumps up pointing at her. “What the fuck is that!”

The whole room is looking at her. Staring. Three girls scream. Even Kirsty, her dorm mate is screaming. She feels her hair rise up around her, hissing at the room. “What!?” she shouts at them. “What are you looking at?”

No one answers. Even the screaming stops. Looking at their faces, they're frozen. They're frozen just like Toby. She screams. Pulling her legs into her she wraps her knees with her arms. Crying she pushes her eyes shut, wishing she was home, that it was all a nightmare and she could just wake up. Around her the student's start to turn grey.


A few hours later.

There's a knock on the door. From inside a voice wails with desperation.

“Don't come in!”

The door opens, and Indian man with a turban and an umbrella walks in. Its dark, the only light coming from the hall. There is a sob. “I said go away, seriously. It's important that you don't come in.”

Father Time shuts the door behind him. “It's ok; I'm going to turn on the light now.”

“NO!” the voice screams.

“Lyta Trevor,” Father Time says, “it's ok. Everything will be ok.” He flicks on the switch.

On the couch a figure is curled into a ball, crying softly. “Go away.” Around her statues of people in coloured clothing stand around her, like shop manikins.

Father Time walks past her and into the kitchenette. The sound of water flowing and then the kettle boiling fill the quiet. He opens some cupboards and then pulls out two cups. There is more rummaging through more cupboards. He pours the hot water in to the cups, then, umbrella under one arm; he comes back into the lounge with two cups. He places the cups down onto the makeshift table, and turns to the sitting stone Toby. Carefully he lifts the stone boy and lowers him onto the ground, still in an awkward sitting position. He turns and hangs his umbrella on one of the arms of a standing statue. Father Time sits.

“Chamomile Tea,” he says and picks up one cup, blowing then sipping it. “Good for relaxation.”

The girl's sobs are only quiet shuddering breaths. “You, hh, really need, hh, to go away.”

Father Time gently touches her foot. “You should drink. Don't worry, you'll be mostly back to normal by now, and any way, it wouldn't work on me.”

Lyta opens her eyes and pulls back her arms, examining them. Her fingernails are back to normal; her skin was still partly scaly. She quickly feels her hair. It's back to its white blonde colour, and not hissing. She looks around at each of the statues, who were once her neighbours, only laughing and joking a few hours ago. Kirsty stands, arms out in horror. She starts to feel the sadness well up within her. Time leans forward and picks up her cup and holds it in front of her. “Drink.”

She looks at the cup, then at the strange man holding it, now smiling gently at her. She took the cup. It's hot and she readjusts her hands. Taking a sip she tries to focus her thoughts. “Who are you?”

“Father Time,” says Father Time.

She takes another sip. “How do you know who I am?”

Father Time sips his tea and then rests it on the arm of the couch. “How much do you know about mythology?”

She shrugs. “I'm doing history.”

“Well that's a different sort of mythology,” he says, waving his hand about. He turns back. “Do you know what the difference between a monster and a hero?”

She narrows her eyes, her mouth tight.

He picks his cup back up. “Luck mostly.” He draws in a long sip. Finally he continues. “With god DNA it's a roll of the dice, gift, curse, divine, animal. What results is...” He meets her eyes, “...chance.”

She stares at him. His eyes sparkle with wisdom.

“You are not the first person... like you. You're grandmother, Myrra Rhodes, she was like you.”

“Like me?”

“It's one of those things that can skip generations, or remain dormant. There's no hard and fast rule. There's no genetic test, we're working on one, but nothing yet.” He takes another sip. “Your Grandmother, Myrra, Dr Myrra Rhodes, worked for, with me. During the Second World War, she was part of a team. A secret team. Project M.”

Lyta wasn't sure about this. She'd only known her Grandma a few years, but she never seemed the secret service type. “Who was she?”

“Her code name was Medusa.” At her expression he nods. “And it's exactly what you think.”

“How? Why? The snake hair lady?” Lyta leaps up. “Why me? Why has this happened to me?!”

Time nods to the bong, lying on the floor. “The marijuana probably. You're grandmother used an artificially synthesized drug, later she learned to call it through meditation. It's all altered states stuff. Calling up inner states. The gorgon...essence is inside you, you just never let it come out. Until tonight.”

Lyta rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands. It was all so fucked up. Inner gorgons? She looks around at the statues. Then she asks, “Can you turn them back?”

“Instant fossilization. Amazing stuff. Skin doesn't generally fossilize but here it happens so quickly. If someone figured out how to weaponize it...” He laughs softly to himself and then met her eyes. “No. It's been tried, but it’s not possible. I'm sorry. You mustn't blame yourself. It's not your fault.”

Tears roll down her cheeks. She nods. He hands her a folded white handkerchief and she takes it, wiping her eyes. “Why are you here?”

“There is an organisation.” He pulls out a card and hands it over to her. “We're called S.H.A.D.E. We save people, the world sometimes, we stop bad guys, and help good guys.” She looks at the blank card in her hand. “You have a power Lyta, a gift. It's not just the stone vision, you're strong, resistant. You'll find out. I want...,” he corrects himself, “I need you on my team. I'm offering you a job, a life.”

She looks at the bizarre Indian stranger in her room, surrounded by the statues, at poor sweet Toby on the floor, at all of the people whose lives she has ended.

Father Time stands up. “Do you know the real difference between monsters and heroes?” She shakes her head. “It's the choices they make. Not what they look like, but what they choose to do.” He puts out his hand.

She looks at her hand, then quickly touches her face. It's soft, covered in fine tiny hairs. She then takes his hand and they shake.

His cell phone rings. He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls it out. He nods and strokes his beard. “Zombies? Are you sure?” He nods again. “Ok, we'll be there. Yes, she's in.” He hangs up.

Looking slightly excited he smiles at her. “Do you need to pack much? We'll be able to buy new stuff on the way if you want?”

She points to the statues. “What about this?”

“Don't worry about it, we have a team. Now, go, grab a jacket. We'll get the rest of your stuff delivered.”

She ran in to her room. Coming back out she stops, holding a jacket. “Did you say zombies?”

Father Time grabs his umbrella off the statue's arm. “Lyta my girl, it's a big bad fucked-up world out there, and you just got front row tickets.”