Every Day is Like Doomsday (3 page)

“This one is the key to this front door. The other is
for your room. Open the door.”
He stepped aside so that Elliot could get close to the
lock. Elliot hesitated, expecting a trick of some kind, but
once again everything seemed so normal. It was too weird.
The entryway floor was industrial tile, the kind
that used to be in the bathroom at his old school. Right
now he should be wolfing down a bowl of instant oatmeal. Twenty minutes from now he should be heading
out the door so he could get to school early and wait for
his friends to show up, especially Sarah, whom he had
been crushing on since fifth grade. Every morning he
had walked her to her first class and tried to work up
the nerve to ask her out on a date. Now he’d never get a
chance. He felt a sudden pang in his chest for what he
was going to miss out on. He wouldn’t get to see Sarah
anymore. He would miss his other best friend, Adam’s,
goofy grin. He wondered if the school would announce
what had happened to him. It was with a hint of that
anger that he wondered if his friends would miss him
and if they would spend all of their time together talking
about him, reminiscing about him. He liked to imagine
that Sarah cried when she heard the news because now
she would never get a chance to tell him how much she
really loved him. He wondered…
“Snap out of it,” said Mr. Woon so firmly it smacked
Elliot back into reality so hard it stung. “Your friends
probably won’t miss you, though you will absolutely miss
them every second of every day. At least at first. After
your father’s press conference today, and once the news is
finished dragging your name through the mud, your old
friends won’t spare a thought on you unless it’s to wonder
how such an evil person could be living right under their
noses. They’ll dissect everything that you’ve ever done or
said and imagine ulterior motives behind it. I am sorry
Elliot but that part of your life is finished and the sooner
you deal with the loss and move on the better off you’ll be.”
Elliot couldn’t miss two things. One: that the dean’s
voice was full of regret and anger and it almost seemed
as though he was speaking from experience instead of
just offering casual advice to a new student. And Two:
how the hell had the Dean known what he was thinking?
Elliot realized that the Dean had been reading his mind
all the way there; he had just been too wrapped up in his
own problems to realize it.
“Everyone anguishes over what they left behind
when they first get here so you are not unique. Strangely
enough it hits a lot of people right here in this spot. I
think a lot of schools must use this same tile. But other
than circumstance and experience, yes, I can hear your
thoughts.” Mr. Woon paused to grin at Elliot in the darkness and Elliot suddenly did not want to be standing here
next to this stranger who could read his mind in a place
where he knew no one and had no friends.
A moment later everything Elliot never wanted
anyone to know went skipping through his mind at once
and the more he tried not to think about it the more vivid
and detailed the memories became. He thought about
breaking his mother’s antique hand mirror and throwing
it in the trash and then lying when his dad came to ask
about it. He thought about waking up from his first wet
dream and how grossed out he was but not being able to
tell anyone about it because his dad was in D.C. and Elliot
was all alone. He thought about the time he accidentally
burned down a shed in the backyard and then blamed it
on lightning. He thought about when he masturbated to
the time the Sarah held his hand, it was more of a friendly
hand hold than a boyfriend-girlfriend hand hold but it
still affected him, the many times he masturbated to various pictures of Sarah, from the pool at summertime in her
bikini, that time she wore that sweater that was kind of
see through and that other time she wore a t-shirt with a
really thin bra and that time…
“Stop it,” the Dean said and held up his hands. “I
understand that you’re an oversexed adolescent but I do
not feel like reveling in the pathetic nature of your nonconquests.”
“Sorry,” Elliot muttered and blushed furiously but
the more he tried not to think about humiliating things
the more they ran through his mind in blazing Technicolor and THX sound.
“Stop trying not to think about anything. Simply redirect your thoughts elsewhere. Like this elevator.
Here’s how you use it.” He pushed the button and the
doors opened. Dean Woon slid aside an old fashioned
metal gate that folded up like an accordion and motioned
for Elliot to step inside. Elliot noted that there were five
dingy yellowed buttons for the four floors and a basement. Mr. Woon closed the gate then pushed the button
for the fourth floor. “This will be your floor. Let’s discuss
your roommate.”
Elliot’s face fell. Well, it really didn’t fall because
if it fell any farther it would have tumbled down the
elevator shaft and into the basement. “I have to have a
roommate?”
“Yes. You’re a new student. New students have
roommates.”
“What’s he like?”
“His name is Vlad.”
Elliot sputtered, “As in the impaler?”
“No. Just Vlad. He is from Romania and if you ask
me the whole ‘Vlad’thing is a little cliché but he refuses to
change his name. He doesn’t speak English very well but
he won’t try to impale you on a spike. Unless, of course,
you try to change the channel while he’s watching TV.
He’s always watching TV and chances are you’ll always
want to change the channel. But he considers it research,
so don’t touch it.”
“Why will I want to change the channel all the
time?” Elliot asked, not at all comforted by Mr. Woon’s
attempt at making Vlad seem not creepy.
“From what I’ve heard he mostly watches old episodes of Barney so unless you’re more twisted than I think
you are you’ll want to change the channel.”
“Point taken.”
The elevator arrived after much clanking and motor
sounds and general scariness. Elliot resigned himself to
taking the stairs after this and hoped that he never had to
be in this elevator again. They got out on the fourth floor
and turned right. They walked to the very end of the hallway and Mr. Woon gestured to the last door on the left.
“This one is yours. And here I will leave you. Your
things should be inside.”
“What about Vlad?” Elliot asked, not relishing the
thought of meeting his roommate alone.
“He’s not in at the moment. He’s been working
with Brain in the lab most mornings trying to devise a
way to use subliminal messages in children’s programming to hypnotize kids.”
Mr. Woon handed Elliot a half sheet of paper and
a pencil rolled in tinfoil. “What’s this?” he asked, holding
up the pencil.
“Do you want me to be able to read your mind all
the time? Stick that behind your ear. It won’t make your
thoughts completely unreadable but the metal garbles the
signal a bit.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Elliot tucked the pencil behind his
ear. The tiny points on the crushed tinfoil poked into his
scalp but it was worth the irritation to keep his wandering thoughts out of the Dean’s head.
Dean Woon pointed to the sheet of paper.“Here are
your classes. You’ve been placed into the basic level classes
at first until we can determine your strengths. After a few
weeks you’ll be reassessed and we will place you in classes
that will be more tailored to your individual needs.”
“Is there any chance that I won’t even be here in
a few weeks? That I was only sent here until they could
figure out what to do with me?”
“Not at all. Your tuition was paid in full as soon as
it was determined that you would come here. No one is
expecting you to go back to your old life. You are one of
us now so I hope for your sake you’re a better actor than
you’ve let on this morning.”
“But you’re a mind reader. Couldn’t you, you know,
vouch for me in some way? You know I didn’t do anything.”
“I may be in charge of the VA but out there in the
real world, no one trusts a known Villain. Off of this
campus my word is worthless, Elliot.”
Elliot didn’t know what to say. He felt numb. As
strange as all this was he never really imagined that it
would be forever. Now he didn’t know what to think.
“I know that this must be difficult for you but the
sooner you understand that there is no chance of you ever
returning to your old life the better off you will be.”
“I see.Why are you being so nice to me? You’re a Villain but you’re nicer than most of the regular people I know.”
“I was you once. We take care of our own. I’ll leave
you now to shower and change. Your first class starts soon.
There’s a map along the walkway. Good luck.”
“Hey, sorry about the pornographic romp through
my brain. I kind of freaked out.”
“Don’t trouble yourself over it. But if you think that
was pornographic you’re going to need a lot more help
than what I have to offer.”
The Dean chuckled at his own joke as he walked
away. Elliot took a deep breath and let himself into his
room. There were two plain beds and very little decoration, even on the side that was occupied by his roommate.
Elliot’s stuff was all on his bed in two massive suitcases
with his initials on them. His dad had bought them for
him as an 8th grade graduation present when he sent
Elliot to Europe with a tour group and didn’t come along.
When Elliot took off his coat and tossed it on the
bed his iPhone fell out of the pocket. He didn’t know why
he hadn’t thought of it before but it gave him an idea. He
snatched it up and opened it to see several missed calls
from his friends from the night before but no messages.
They had no doubt been wondering where he was when
he didn’t meet them by their cars. With shaking fingers
he called Sarah’s cell phone. It rang.
“Elliot?” said a voice that did not belong to Sarah.
It was her father.
Elliot was caught off guard and said nothing for a
moment. Then he found his voice again and said in his
most congenial tone, “Mr. Waters. Hi. Is Sarah around?”
Sarah’s father’s voice became suddenly cold. “I’m
going to tell you this once so make sure you listen. Stay
away from my daughter, you Villainous scum, or I will
kill you.”
And then he hung up. Elliot dropped the phone
and stared blankly ahead. How had he known already,
he thought? Then he realized, the TV! He ran to it and
turned it on, flipping it from the cartoon channel to a
morning newscast. And he saw his own face staring back
at him. It was his senior portrait and beneath the picture
were the words, “Elliot Vane-Suspected Villain.”
He felt numb, deflated and slightly nauseous. He
didn’t hear what the newscasters were saying and soon
his image on the screen was replaced by a weather map
of Iowa. The skies were clear. It was cold. Who cares? My
life is over, thought Elliot.
In a daze he pulled out some fresh clothes and
his toiletries and went into the bathroom. He glanced
at himself in the mirror to see that the goose egg above
his right eyebrow was a lovely shade of purple, his curly
hair looked like a funky, lopsided afro and he thought
that maybe if he needed to shave he might look kind of
badass. As it was his chin was covered in peach fuzz and
so he only looked pathetic.
He took a shower in the blessedly private bathroom.
He had been concerned about the possibility of having to
shower with the Villains and was very grateful that that
would not be the case. He suspected it had to do with the
danger of having a roomful of naked, wet Villains. Some
might use the situation to their advantage and wreak some
havoc because, hey, at least it’s a room with a drain.
He then spent the rest of his shower imagining all
the different ways that his classmates could possibly kill
him. This had a twofold effect of causing him to shower
quickly so as not to be caught vulnerable and also of taking him to the verge of fainting again as he got dressed.

The sun had just risen in the east and the street
lights went out as the day brightened. Elliot tried to think
positively. He told himself that it wouldn’t do any good to
get upset or depressed at this point and resolved to hang
in there and see where the day took him.

He started out from the dorms expecting to find
a map so that he could find the Evil Science classroom,
which was the first class listed on his schedule.There were
very few students about so early and none of them so
much as glanced in Elliot’s direction. He held his breath
every time he passed someone and let it out when they
paid him no mind, grateful for that small mercy because
he hadn’t yet figured out how a Villain was supposed to
act around his own kind.

Elliot found the kiosk where he assumed the map
was supposed to be but someone had ripped out the map
and spray-painted a big, red unhappy face in its place.
That meant he had to ask for directions. He really, really
didn’t want to ask anyone for directions.

He stood in the shadow of the kiosk for a minute
and tried to look nonchalant as he waited for someone
to pass by. The first person to walk by was a kid twice his
size, his bulk covered by a tan trench coat. Elliot started,
“Can you help me a minute, I…”

And the kid kept walking. The next kid gave Elliot
a look that made him wilt like a delicate flower under
the first winter frost. A flower, he chastised his internal
monologue, seriously? Suck it up, Elliot, are you a Norm
or are you a Villain? He tried to think more like a badass
but two more people passed by without helping. One of
them actually took the time to shove him into the kiosk,
cracking the yellowed plastic that was supposed to have
kept the map from being stolen in the first place.

After that Elliot just started walking. He didn’t
know where he was going, save that it was away from
the place where he felt like his manhood had just been
stolen from him. He would have thought that after all
this time he’d be used to getting pushed into lockers and
walls and trashcans. But on his first day at a new school?
No, this was not going to happen again. He was going to
turn over a new leaf. And this time it was a matter of life
and death because he doubted the students he shared a
school with now would be satisfied with such standard
acts of bullying.

He still didn’t see many people in the courtyard and
wondered just how many students went to this school.
And then he saw something he never thought he would
be so grateful to see: a teacher. Or if he wasn’t a teacher
at least he was an adult. He was wearing what looked like
an army vest, pants, boots, and hat. His tight T-shirt was
short sleeved and showed off a set of impressive guns.
Elliot knew he should have been intimidated but he had
no other choice. There were no signs showing which
buildings were which or what direction he should go. It
seemed as if the campus had been designed to deliberately confuse the weak. Elliot really didn’t want to be one
of the weak.

When the man got close Elliot noticed that the
veins on the teacher/soldier’s neck were bulging even
though he wasn’t walking very quickly. Elliot cleared his
throat and said, “Excuse-me-can-you-tell-me-wherethe-Evil-Science-classroom-is?” as if it was all one word.

The teacher stopped, turned his head—and only
his head—slowly, as if he were the evil robot in one of
those Terminator movies, and stared at Elliot. He stared
so hard and for so long that Elliot started to squirm. He
was just about to tell the teacher, “Never mind,” and try
his luck elsewhere but the teacher barked, “What is your
name, soldier?”The teacher’s voice was so gruff it sounded
like it hurt.

“E-e-e-e-Elliot,” Elliot stammered.
“Well, E-e-e-e-Elliot, are you new meat?”
Elliot paused to think for a moment. This being

a school for Villains and all maybe it wasn’t only the
students who harassed each other. On the heels of that
depressing thought Elliot imagined a strange hazing
ritual involving carnivorous beasts and then wondered if
this teacher had been tasked to round up all of the noobs
and lead them to their doom. But considering he had
just asked for directions it wasn’t as if he could lie at this
point. Besides, he got the feeling that this guy wouldn’t
appreciate being lied to.

“Yes, I’m new,” Elliot said, somehow finding the
courage to not stammer.
“Last name?”
“Vane.”
The man scowled and his eyes, nearly hidden

beneath a Neanderthal brow, studied Elliot with newfound interest. “Very well,” he said, “About face and fall
in line. Keep up. I do not stop for lollygaggers.”

With that the teacher was off and Elliot fell into step
just behind him.The man walked fast and his legs seemed
to get longer, his stride wider, with every step. Elliot had a
hard time making note of any passing landmarks because
he was trying to keep up with the teacher. Before long
they went into a boring, whitewashed brick building and
up a flight of stairs and he found himself standing just
inside the doorway of a classroom that looked a lot like
the chemistry classroom from his old high school, except
larger and full of angry-looking, psychopathic students,
which, he realized with disappointment, wasn’t too different from his old chemistry classroom. There was no
way that Elliot would remember how to get there but
there was no time to think about it because the chemistry
teacher was talking to him and he hadn’t been paying any
attention.

“Excuse me, what?” Elliot asked. As soon as the
words left his mouth he saw her turn around. It was the
girl he’d seen getting off of the bus right before Billy and
Greg had confronted him. They’d seen him staring at her
and Greg had assured him that he could “hit that”. And
there she was, the evil girl of his dreams, glaring at him
as if his very existence offended her. She narrowed her
intense, icy blue eyes at him and Elliot tried to look defiant instead of how he really felt, which was like peeing
his pants.

“I said I’m Professor Boom. You need to sit there.
It’s the only empty seat.” The teacher was a walking stereotype with thinning gray hair, a white lab coat and thick
glasses. If Elliot had been making a movie about a nerdy
scientist he would have cast this guy on the spot. “And
take that pencil off of your ear.”

“But I can’t. The Dean said—” Elliot started but the
teacher cut him off.
“The Dean was fucking with you. And you look like
an idiot. Take it off.”
Elliot removed the foil-wrapped pencil from behind
his ear and tucked it into his pocket as the class erupted into
giggles. His face flushed and he tried not to look at anyone
as he listened to the conversations going on around him.
“So gullible.”
“He is
so
going to die.”
“What’s up with this guy that the Dean only gives
him a pencil?”
“I know. He gave me a pill.”
“Me, too!”
“What an idiot!”
That last one was the Army guy. Well, Elliot told
himself, so much for thinking that the Dean was a nice
Villain. At the same time he thought it was odd that a
super Villain would stoop to such a silly and pointless
practical joke. He actually found it a little disappointing.
To get out of the limelight Elliot glanced at the seat
the teacher was pointing to. There was no desk in front of
it and it was directly beside a mountain of a kid in a dirty
straightjacket. The straightjacket was chained to the stool
that the kid was perched upon and the stool didn’t look
nearly strong enough to hold his bulk. On top of everything else he wore a muzzle strapped to his head that dug
into the folds of flesh there. As Elliot moved to the empty
chair and took a seat to the ongoing chorus of chuckles
and comments, he smiled nervously at the behemoth in
the straightjacket and he could have sworn that he saw a
glistening line of drool escape his mouth.
“Is that really a good idea to sit the new meat next
to Lester?” the evil girl asked, looking as if it pained her
to do so. Her English was perfect and unaccented, which
was odd because Greg had told Elliot that she only spoke
Russian. Elliot got the feeling that this girl hated him
so it made him wonder just how bad Lester was that
she thought he shouldn’t sit next to him. Elliot peeked
at Lester again to find Lester staring at him the way a
junkie eyes a bag of heroin, or the way a dieter looks at a
double cheeseburger. Actually, it was more like the latter.
Elliot started to sweat.
The army teacher was at the evil girl’s side in a second, his face directly in front of hers, screaming as flecks
of spittle rained down on the desk and everything within
two feet of it. “After your escapades I should think you’d
want to keep a low profile for a while. But since you care
so much about the welfare of this little loser I think you
should be the one to escort him around campus until he
can find his own way around.”
She groaned, “That’s so
not
going to happen.”
“Too late. He’s your trouble now.”
“
Zayibiz
.”
Now
that
sounded Russian, thought Elliot, and he
bit his tongue to keep from saying it out loud.
And the army teacher left. Elliot heard laughter
from another part of the room. The girl immediately
whipped her head around to glare at Elliot with enough
hatred to immolate him and he panicked for a moment,
fearful that that might actually be her Villainous power.
But a few moments later he was still sitting there, blinking at her instead of burning up, and that just seemed to
piss her off more. Her pale face turned several shades of
red before the teacher interrupted her spectacular glower
by saying, “Ok, let’s get on with your projects now. Each
of you needs to come up with a way to create and distribute a lethal virus in a major metropolitan area. New kid,
go sit with someone else and follow along. Learn something useful for a change.”
Elliot looked over at the girl because she was the
only one who had paid him any attention but she had
deliberately turned her back on him. At least, he thought
he felt deliberateness emanating from her back but he
could have just been projecting.
“Hey, new kid,” said a voice from behind him. He
turned to see two boys and a girl all sitting together with
matching dickhead grins on their faces. If this were a
normal high school these guys would be the ugly, dickhead, jocular friends of the handsome dickhead jocks. He
wasn’t exactly sure how the girl would fit in. Maybe she
would be a castoff from the handsome dickhead jocks as
a gesture of solidarity to their apelike brothers-in-arms.
And they were talking to Elliot. He wasn’t sure how to
interpret their interest but since no one else was offering
he had no choice. He stood up and made his way over
to their table where they had a few drawings and some
formulas scrawled in a composition book. He had barely
sat down when he realized that they weren’t interested
in showing him what they were doing. They were only
interested in picking his brain.
“So, how’d you manage to get away with it, pencil
boy?” asked the redhead, who was obviously the leader of
the group. Elliot winced at the nickname and hoped it
wouldn’t stick. If it did, he had the feeling this guy would
be the one to keep it alive.
“Get away with what?” Elliot asked. Playing stupid
and mysterious probably wasn’t the best strategy but it
was the only one that popped into his head. If he admitted that he had nothing to do with the planning, that he
was just an innocent dupe who pointed out a hole in the
fence, he didn’t think these were the kind of kids who
would be satisfied with good-natured ribbing.They probably just took out ribs.
“You know. The bomb? How come you got away
with it but Greg and Billy didn’t?” He thought it was the
girl speaking but her mouth didn’t move. The voice actually seemed to be coming from a half-dead plant that sat
on a ledge behind her head.
Elliot stared dumbfounded at the plant, then back
at the kid whose mouth had never moved, too dumbfounded to answer.
“That’s The Ventriloquist,” said the redhead, pointing to the girl who was slighter, shorter, blonder, and yet
somehow scarier than Elliot thought he could ever be.
The redhead continued, “She’ll never talk directly to you.
Get used to it. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” He pointed to
the kid to his left. “And this here’s Sonic.”
Sonic waved and blinked so slowly that Elliot wasn’t
sure if he was blinking or if the blink meant something,
something like, “Hey, you’re cute, let’s hook up.”
“I’m Red,” said the redhead.
Elliot greeted them all uneasily and said, “Can you
guys just show me what you’re doing?” in an effort to steer
the conversation away from his presumed evil antics.
Instead Red asked, “So, what’s your power, new
meat? Have you discovered it yet?”
“Um…” Elliot started, wondering how insane he
should make the lie that was about to come out of his
mouth when suddenly the teacher was standing behind
him. He smacked Elliot in the back of the head with an
open palm and Elliot immediately felt his eyes tear up.
They weren’t tears of pain, because it hadn’t really hurt,
but tears of humiliation and anger. He didn’t let them fall
but it was too late. The teacher didn’t miss a beat.
“Hey, pencil boy, get to work.” And then, upon
noticing Elliot’s furious tears he added, “What are you,
some kind of a cry baby? Suck it up, cry baby, you’ve got a
lot of catching up to do.”
The teacher left. Elliot’s face burned with humiliation as he turned back to his group, who took one look at
him and burst into wild guffaws. It was even worse than
that, though, because The Ventriloquist’s tinkling laugh
seemed as if it were coming from all around him.
That laugh was joined shortly by a deep, barking
sort of noise. Elliot turned around to see Lester chuckling. At least he thought Lester was chuckling because he
was making a sort of strange, muffled, choking, coughing sound that shook his entire body and he thought he
could see, between the deep fatty grooves in his face, a
smile. Elliot felt certain that Lester was mocking him and
scowled. As if I need the giant on my case, as well, he
thought.
The giggle grew louder and more pronounced. And
then Lester barfed up a mailbox.
It flew out of Lester’s mouth, half-digested and
covered in grayish-green ooze, so fast that it pulled the
muzzle right off his face. Muzzle and mailbox smacked
the kid sitting in front of him on the back of the head.
That kid bounced off of his desk and went down.
Lester turned to Elliot and he could tell now that
deep within those folds of flesh he really was smiling.
Dumbfounded, Elliot shied away from Lester and other
students screamed and backed away as Lester’s jaw began
to disengage, his eyes refocusing hungrily on his unconscious classmate.
The teacher was on the phone again and a moment
later three men and two women wearing white scrubs
rushed into the room. Lester stood up, taking his stool
with him, and leaned toward his prey. The orderlies tackled him and due to his straight jacket it wasn’t much of
a battle.
As they attached a new muzzle to Lester’s face
and led him out of the classroom Elliot sat back and let
the adrenaline flow out of his body. He was suddenly so
grateful that the Slavic girl had spoken up when she did.
Otherwise that could have been him. He noticed her still
sitting in her desk, the only student who hadn’t budged
when Lester came free, staring after the behemoth, a
Mona Lisa smile playing on her pouty lips.
Then the bell rang.