A Strange Fire (Florence Vaine) (28 page)

 “You like to spread lies, don’t you Carter,” says the voice, Frank’s
voice.

 What on earth is he doing? I stay still and listen, straining my ears to
hear.

 “It’s the only thing he can do,” says another voice, Alex, “because
there’s no way he’d put it up to you face to face.” Oh yeah, that’s Alex all
right, stirring things up as per usual.

 “Aw, what’s wrong boys, did I hurt your feelings?” says Josh finally,
ever the cheeky brat.

 And just when I’d thought he’d seen the light. I slowly edge myself to
the corner and peer around it. Frank and Alex have Josh backed up against the
lockers. The fire of both their auras burns bright, the flames lick up and down
their bodies, almost in adoration. Like the fire thrives on the fact that
they’re angered. As though it lives off the possibility of violence.

 “Firstly,” says Frank, “you will find Florence and apologise for the lie
you told her. But right now, yeah you’re right Carter, my feelings are a little
bruised, which means we’re gonna have to figure out a way to fix that.”

 I shudder to think about what he might have in mind. I feel like tearing
around the corner and telling them to stop right this instant, explain that
getting back at Josh really isn’t worth it. But something holds me back. I stay
where I am and continue to watch.

 “Fuck the two of you and that stupid slut!” Josh hisses, and how he
refers to me
is
a bit of a shock, especially after our truce yesterday.
Then again, boys like Josh would place their hand on the Bible and tell a
bare-faced lie. He definitely did
not
deserve the help I gave him. I’ll
know better than to do anything nice for him the next time.

 Frank grabs Josh’s t-shirt and scrunches it up in his fist. “What did
you just say?” he asks, through clenched teeth. His flames become thicker and
splotches of black and grey begin to dot his aura. Just like yesterday evening,
when I’d thought I’d seen those demon-esque wings.

 “I said,” Josh spits, with exaggerated pronunciation, “that no way am I
saying sorry to you or your precious-little-slut, and if you try laying a hand
on me Marsters, I’ll have you thrown back into juvie before you can blink.”

 Frank laughs now, but there’s no humour in it, only anger, only hate. It
hurts to see such poison run through him. I actually flinch and look away.

 “You really are a dumb little shit Carter,” says Alex.

 “Too dumb to know when to shut up,” Frank adds, before laying a hard
punch into Josh’s ribcage.

 Josh whimpers, and a feeling of dark discomfort comes over me. I really
don’t want to be watching this, but I can’t seem to bring myself to stop
or
walk
away.

 The word, “Bastard,” wheezes from Josh’s throat, and Alex kicks him in
the shin.

 “Did we say you could talk?” he hisses.

 At this, my eyes are dragged upwards, to where the black and grey spots
pollute Frank and Alex’s colours. What I see above them, I now realise, is no
random occurrence or trick of light. I now know that those wings I saw before
were not the creation of my tired and stressed out brain. However, this time it
isn’t just wings that I see, but a huge, monstrous, dragon-like head growing
out of them. All I can compare it to are those carvings of gargoyles and demons
you see on medieval cathedrals. Suddenly, after all these weeks, the fire
begins to make sense. Of course, that’s only if what I am seeing is the form of
an actual dragon. They breathe fire after all.

 “Prick,” Josh spits at Alex after he’s kicked him.

 Frank’s anger increases, and so too does the strength of the presence of
the monster that strains above him, like it’s struggling to break free. Things
are getting way too out of hand. What on earth
is
Frank? I can’t let
this go on any longer. What will happen if the monster gains more strength?
Will it become solid and real, rather than the incorporeal form it currently
takes? And my God, is this monster representative of Frank’s true form? Is he
really a demon in the guise of a handsome young man? With a surge of courage I
step out from my hiding place, then stand stock still in the middle of the
space at the end of the hallway.

 “Frank,” the name feebly escapes my lips, barely making a sound. But the
moment I say it his head whips around, his eyes fiercely locking onto mine.

 A cold sweat drips down my spine, and undiluted fear takes over. And
what do I do when I’m afraid? Run like the wind. But my footsteps aren’t the
only ones that can be heard pounding down the corridor. Someone’s coming after
me, and I know that it’s Frank without needing to look behind me. I get to the
fire exit at the end of the hall and use all of my strength to push it open.
I’ve only reached the car park before Frank catches up with me, grabbing me
back with both arms around my waist.

 “Florence, calm down, please, why are you running from me?”

 I gaze up at him to find that the monster-dragon-thing is gone now, all
that remains is his trademark fire. Still, I can’t let go of the stark
realisation that whatever Frank is, it is in no way as benign as my ability to
read auras. We might both be different, but we are definitely not the same.

 “L-let go of me,” I plead, straining to break free of him.

 “Not until you tell me why you’re so scared, I mean, Jesus,” he takes a
hold of my jittery hand, “you’re shaking like a leaf.”

 “I know w-what you are. I could see it back there when you hit Josh, a
monster rose out of your aura.”

 At this, his grip on me loosens a fraction. “What exactly did you see?”
he asks, voice gone all scratchy.

 “You must know,” I reply, barely a whisper. “It’s what you are, some
kind of thing – a beast.”

 “That is not what I am,” he tells me, jaw set tight.

 “How am I supposed to know for sure what you are Frank?” I ask in
frustration. “You keep refusing to tell me, so you can hardly get pissed when I
come to my own conclusions.”

 “I will tell you, just not here,” he replies. “Come on, I’ll take you
somewhere we can talk properly.”

 “Frank, I’m not g-going anywhere with you. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

 “I’m not going to hurt you Flo, look at me, read me when I say it so you
know I’m telling the truth.”

 I do read him, and he’s right, he is telling the truth. It’s right
there, shining brightly through his flames. A little piece of tension leaves me
and I sag into his arms.

 “Okay,” I say on a heavy breath, “I believe you, where do you want to
go?”

 “We’ll take the van and drive somewhere private,” he says, lifting the
keys from his pocket. They jingle in his hand and I follow him over to where
the van is parked.

 Frank drives us out past the school to the edge of town where there’s a
small grassy area with picnic tables at the side of the road. He parks just
beside the grass and we get out to go sit down on the benches, all the while we
are quiet. I sit opposite him and fumble with my hands in my lap, waiting for
him to break the silence.

 “I suppose I’m not going to get to wait that week now, am I?” he says,
joking mildly. I look at him and shake my head to say,
No, the truth needs
to come out now, no more putting it off
.

 “Nah, I guess not,” he continues, sadness framing his words. “I don’t
really know how to explain it. That’s mainly why I asked if you’d wait. I still
have no clue where to start.”

 I lift my eyes and look directly at him. “Just start at the beginning.”

 “I love when you look at me. You keep your eyes from me so often that
it’s like a gift when I finally get to see them. Kinda takes my breath away, ya
know.”

 I struggle not to blush, needing so much for him to tell me what he is,
to explain that it’s not as bad as I fear. That he isn’t a monster at all. That
my mind was simply playing tricks on me. I don’t say anything.

 Frank exhales deeply before speaking again. “At the beginning then,” he
breathes, “it all started with an Angel. A bad one.” Then he pauses for a long
moment and lets his words sink in.

 I frown. “Are we talking
Paradise Lost
here, as in a Biblical
Angel, or something else?”

 “Milton is as good a reference point as any I guess,” Frank replies, a
smile lingering on his mouth.

 “So you’re s-saying it began with one of the Angels who fell?”

 Heaviness descends on my brain as I try to comprehend how Frank could
have anything to do with an Angel. Let alone the fact that such mythical beings
exist. An image of incomparable beauty forms in my head, of golden wings and
soft white feathers. Halos.

 “One amid their numbers, yes,” he answers. “But not any of the more
memorable characters. Just a rogue who would have gone along with any kind of
rebellion, no matter the philosophy behind it. The Angel I’m talking about is
called Bune, but try not to picture an actual Angel when you think of him. His
physical form is that of a dragon with three heads, one of which is human.”

 “He doesn’t sound like an Angel at all,” I interrupt. “He sounds more
like a demon.”

 “Believe me, it’s a very thin line between the two, and even the
Archangels aren’t what people imagine them to be. Some texts describe Bune
positively, saying that he bestows the gifts of wisdom and eloquence to
mankind. But that’s just a lie to fool humans into believing he’s benevolent.”

 My thought processes finally catch up when I ask, “Wait a second, he
appears as a dragon, but that’s what I saw come out of
you
.”

 Frank nods. “That’s right, but let me finish. Bune’s duty as a fallen
Angel is to haunt cemeteries and move bodies from one grave to another. This is
where he speaks with the spirits of the dead. The more recently deceased are
desperate, and beg him to bring them back to life. He knows this and takes full
advantage of their pleading. He tells these souls that he can have them reborn
and that in their new lives they will have riches and wisdom beyond their
wildest dreams. Those who agree to the deal are reincarnated and receive the
gifts they are promised. What they don’t know is that by making the deal with
Bune, they are also inadvertently cursing their first born child. It’s like the
dodgy small print in a contract. So, once the reborn spirits give birth to a
child in their second life, Bune’s curse comes into play, and from the moment
the child is conceived it contains within itself a demon created by Bune in his
own image. The dragon.”

 I allow the information to sink in. “So you’re the f-first born child of
one of these reincarnated spirits?”

 “That’s me,” says Frank, frustration and sadness in his voice, “and
that’s what you saw in my aura. The demon thrives on negative emotions like
anger and hate. It will always be trapped inside me, but when I become angry or
violent it gets to experience a little bit of life. It’s always present in my
head, growling and pushing me to hate. It’s gotten me into a lot of bad
situations in the past, but over the years I’ve learned to control and ignore
it. The up side is that although I suffer from the influence of the demon
inside me, I also get some of its more beneficial characteristics, like
increased speed and strength. I can also communicate telepathically with others
of my kind. For instance, Alex and I could be having an entire conversation
without saying a word out loud.”

 “But still,” I interrupt, “being cursed from birth sounds awful. I used
think that what I have to deal with is bad, but it’s nothing compared to what
you go through.”

 “It hasn’t been so bad since you came into my life. I don’t know how
it’s possible, but when I’m near you Florence, the demon is soothed, despite
its deep hunger for me to lose control. It’s like you hold the ability to turn
my demon into a kitten, instead of a ferocious, fire-breathing beast.”

 “That’s – that’s really strange. Are you certain it’s me and not
something else?”

 “At first I considered that, but when I asked Alex and the others they
told me it works for them too. All it takes is for you to be near us and you
mute the power our demons hold over us. It’s an amazing feeling. Touch is even
better.”

 “It k-kind of makes sense,” I say, thinking of all the ways that my
ability has evolved since coming to Chesterport. “I mean, I’ve told you about
the pull I feel, to replace negative emotions in people with positive ones.
Maybe that’s what I do to your demon, I make it peaceful instead of always
seeking negativity and chaos.”

 Frank nods enthusiastically. “You’re a living deterrent to demons,” he
grins.

 “So is that what John is too? Is he one of the cursed children?”

 “Yes, that’s why he took us all in. John spent years trying to discover
what he was. After he achieved this he wanted to help other kids who’d been
like him, so he set out to find us. As I’ve already told you, he found me
first, and as the others began to come along the foster home grew. It’s the
only place I’ve ever felt truly comfortable. We learn from each other, help
each other to better understand what we are.”

 “And what does John think about what I can do? Surely he knows about it
too.”

 Frank sighs. “John’s still very unsure about you Florence, he thinks it
will cause trouble if we, the supposed cursed, are given peace and reprieve
from our demons. That being said, he’s very fond of you.”

 “Oh,” I say. “He might be right though, what if something bad happens
from you all being around me?”

 “We’ll deal with that when it happens, either way, I’m not giving you
up.”

 Frank’s words make me feel all strange and warm inside, but I can’t help
the niggling thought that the only reason he likes me so much is because I mute
his demon.

 “Does John still search for other kids like you? And why are you all
boys, or is Layla like you too?”

 “He keeps his ear to the ground, if anyone shows up he’ll go and find
them. But no, Layla isn’t like us, and I don’t know why John keeps finding
boys, it’s probably just coincidence though.”