Reviewing the files of the next batch of teenagers is harrowing. President Gaffer huffs angrily at the absurdity of his dilemma. He's enraged by the fact that he only has five hormonal mongrels to choose from.

"What the fuck could I possibly do with charm?"

Gaffer grabs the file of Alexandra Lantz, a short sixteen year old with fiery red hair and bright blue eyes. A girl who can charm her way out of any sticky situation.

That's what charisma is for, he thinks. She's useless. Gaffer throws the file to the ground and all the paper containing her life's story fly out of the folder and land at his feet, settling on the floor with a graceful whoosh.

He lifts the cover of the file for the next kid, Daniel Jackson, a boy that can control a person's movement. He pinches the bridge of his nose. His frustration knows no end today.

There are others with that same power. He is not needed here.

Just in case Daniel his only reasonable option, he sets that file to the side and looks into the next one under it. He has a sister?

Sierra Jackson, one of the more useful ones, is the spitting image of her brother. Blonde hair and green eyes. Both eighteen and born as twins.

He looks at the girl's picture and thinks for a moment. He might be able to use her sense blocking abilities, but she's not the type of help he'd hoped for. He puts the file of Sierra on top of her brother's.

He lifts the next folder and reads the file of Carrie Jacobs. A black haired, brown eyed beauty with a mind reading ability. He already has twenty mind reading agents. He lets out a dismal sigh and plops the file on top of the twins' files.

In a flash of anger, Gaffer topples every file to the floor with a great sweeping motion. Papers shoot every which direction and rest in all corners of the room. He lets out a childish shout of anger and curses every foul word he's ever learned.

He jerks the telephone off the receiver and dials his secretary.

"Yes, Mr. Gaffer?"

"Nina, bring in those two monkeys from the Bureau."

"Yes sir."

He slams the telephone back down and waits for their return. He straightens his tie, and smooths out his clothing.

Two of his so called 'prodigies' pile into his office and he gestures for them to take a seat. They eye the files and papers strewn about warily, mentally preparing for the onslaught of that will inevitably come their way.

"Seth, James..."

"President." They reply in unison.

God how he hates that.

"I thought I asked you to find me a useful agent-to-be. I've waited ten years for you to get me a right hand man." He adds a snarl in there for effect.

"Sir, it's been only three years since you asked us to find you another agent, and we gave you five to choose from. They're the closest to starting the Trials-"

Gaffer cuts Seth off with a scalding glare.

"I asked for unique. I can't even count the amount of mind manipulators I have. Charm is useless to me in all circumstances, and I already have variations of physical manipulators at my fingertips. That takes care of three, Seth."

"What about Sierra? You can use her!" James blurts.

"I thought I told you to find someone hands on! She can't take down rebels by herself, now can she?"

"No-"

"Then do your damn job and find me someone who can!" Gaffer shouts.

Seth raises an eyebrow and stands up to get up to the president's level.

"Did you even consider the girl who can melt things with her mind?"

Seth whispers in a low voice.

"What girl? I didn't see any other girl besides the three."

"There were five files, Gaffer."

Seth leans down and picks up a photo of the girl he missed off the floor. Gaffer snatches the photo from Seth's hands and studies the picture.

"Erika Michaels." He reads aloud. A dirty blonde with caramel infused hazel eyes. A killer smile too. A heat rises between his thighs and he sits to hide his erection. She's certainly in her prime, he thinks.

"You said she can melt things with her mind. What kind of things?"

Seth smirks in smug relief and struggles to contain his laughter at his bosses... reaction to the girl's photo.

"Anything that's made up of matter." Seth replies.

A sinister grin materializes on Gaffer's face and he coughs suddenly, regaining his composure.

"She's the one Seth. Maybe you aren't such a failure."

"Thanks." Seth rolls his eyes.

"Oh and before you both leave, you should know, that if she doesn't pass the Trials with a score that is required for a top agent, I will kill you myself."

The utter seriousness in Gaffer's eyes causes James to shudder and Seth's face to darken. They both nod and shake his hand. James walks through the door, but Seth stops just before leaving.

"Mr. President, she's only seventeen."

Gaffer's indifferent expression is betrayed by the excitement in his eyes... And in his pants.

"She won't be when she finally gets here."

Seth laughs and shrugs before finally leaving Gaffer to his devices.

He can hardly wait.

 

2: Chapter 2

"Come on Erika, what's wrong? You haven't eaten any of your food and we have class soon."

Daniel snaps his fingers in front of my face with a worried look.

"Chill out Daniel, I was just thinking. Quit hanging over me." I push him away and get up from the table. I stuff a granola bar, a banana and a box of raisins into my backpack. I sling it over my shoulder and book it to class.

If we don't get moving, the hallway monitors that patrol the building will get very angry, and that's the last thing I need, if I'm going to make it as an agent. My record has to be spotless.

"You're not planning to eat in class are you?" Daniel rolls his eyes and catches up to me.

“Maybe.”

"You know Ms. Britto will skin you alive if you eat in her classroom. And I won't rescue you when she burns you with her fire breathing inferno!"

"That's not even her ability." I state dubiously.

"With the way she looks at you, you'd think she could."

"Well then it's a good thing I have Alex to charm her. Besides, I'd rather get burnt to a crisp by dragon-fire, then spend another minute talking to you." I say annoyed. Why can't he just leave me alone?

He sighs under his breath, giving up on conversation with me, and walks ahead to catch up with his twin sister, Sierra.

Alex and Carrie come up on each side of me, smiling suggestively.

“You know you liiike him. I can see it.” Carrie says, poking me in the sides.

“Then you must be blind.” I say defensively, slapping her hand from my sensitive tickle spots.

Alex just waggles her eyebrows up and down, ignoring my attempt to deny any attraction to Daniel.

“You guys are so stupid...” I say, my brow furrowed. I don't understand why they won't leave me alone about it. He doesn't like me back.

Alex and Carrie pass each other a glance, and doubt my claims together. Sighing, I turn the corner and wait for the attendance man to log my presence into his clipboard. He scratches my name down onto the paper and promptly punches a code into a number pad to the right of the door. The green light pops on next to a now absent red light, and the door clicks open, allowing me to enter the classroom. Alex and Carrie follow close behind me and giggle at something Carrie said.

The bell rings once, signaling for class time to start in 5 minutes.

"I know you guys think you're big shots and all, but if you aren't on your best behavior today, I will slowly murder you all alive. Mr. Matthews is going to be here in 5 minutes, and he's going to supervise today. He will also sit in on your combat training with Mr. Payton after class. I know you guys are capable of semi-great things, so wow him and he'll decide whether your ready for field initiation and training, and that means I wont have to see your sorry asses ever again! I'm getting wet just thinking about it." Says Ms. Britto with a devilish gleam in her eyes.

"Oh my God that's disgusting!" Daniel chokes and each of us lean over the sides of our desks, gagging. Ms. Britto cackles and sits back in her chair.

"Ms. Britto, you have an... unorthodox way of keeping your students in line." Says a sultry voice from the doorway. Ms. Britto shoots out of her chair and brushes a lock of hair away from her face.

"Mr. Matthews! I- I wasn't expecting you until second bell!" She stutters. The group looks at each other and snickers quietly.

"Yes, well I decided to arrive early to observe the class before the session begins." Into the room steps a very attractive man. He has silver hair- is that even possible? -vibrant gray eyes, and pale skin. It's such an unusual combination of characteristics, that I catch myself looking twice. He scans the small group with friendly eyes and rests his gaze onto Ms. Britto.

"At ease, Charlotte, it's fine. Nothing compares to a little dry humor and sarcastic tone when it comes to learning." Visibly more relaxed, Ms. Britto brings him a chair near her desk. He kindly accepts, and gestures for us to get on with our pre-class business.

Silence fills the room and a heavy air replaces the banter between the two adults. Every teen in this room stares openly at this newcomer. They'd seen him a thousand times before, but have never been this close. In his prime, Seth Matthews served as President Gaffer's right hand. He was the most admired and respected agent in the entirety of the Better Society Bureau. Now though, he's assigned to the headquarters- this very building- as a principal of sorts. He manages the funds for the school, the employees and agents stationed here, and oversees the training of the groups starting their Trials, which is a complex and extremely difficult process in which an initiates' future is decided by their score.

The main point, here, is that Mr. Matthews is a very important man. If I'm to excel and rise through the ranks, I have to make a good impression on him.

Ms. Britto coughs awkwardly to fill the silence and looks around the room with discomfort.

"Mr. Matthews, let me introduce you to my-"

"Call me Seth, and I'm well aware of the names of the students in this particular group." Seth walks up to Carrie's desk on my left, and taps his finger on the wood

"this is Carrie Jacobs, the mind reader." He walks behind me, and does the same to the twins' desks

"Daniel and Sierra Jackson, manipulators of the body and senses." He glides over to my right, and repeats the finger motion

"Alexandra Lantz, charmer..." He looks at me, smirks and steps in front of me. He thumps his finger loudly on my desk.

"...and the destructionist, Erika Michaels."

He lingers in front of my desk, staring quite rudely at me, until finally, he walks back to the front of the room.

“I'm sure all of you know who I am.” He continues.

“And the reason I'm here today, is because I must assess whether all of you are ready for the Trials.”

3: Chapter 3

Mr. Matthews stares at my face with interest as he only half listens to Ms. Britto make side conversation with him before the second bell.

After promising myself I won't look at him even though I can feel his eyes boring into me, I wrestle with my curiosity of him, straining to keep my eyes away from where he stands. My eyes wander over anyway, disregarding all internal commands. I make eye contact with him and he flashes me a knowing half smile. Suddenly, I feel like I am melting under his gaze. My heart starts to race and my cheeks turn red. I try to flick my eyes down at my desk, but instead they remain on his flawless face. His smile turns devious, and he then turns back to Ms. Britto.

The loud, irritating bell rings out and I snap out my reverie.

That was weird.

"Show me how well you've been teaching these students, Charlotte." Mr. Matthews says with an expectant smile. Ms. Britto nods politely and walks over to the white board where she continues our history lesson from yesterday.

I tune out, occupied with my recent mishap. How can I react to him like that and only have known him for less than 5 minutes? I've never ever felt like that around someone. An unsettling feeling rests on me and I can't concentrate on the lesson.

"Erika!"

Ms. Britto's irate voice snaps me away from my thoughts.

"From the looks of it, you've already mastered the material in the lesson. Tell me- why are we in the mess we're in regarding our conflict with the rebels?"

Dread fills my very being- I hate being put on the spot, but lucky for me, I know the answer like the back of hand.

For as long as I can remember, I've been taught that the reason the rebels are our enemy is because they don't support the Bureau. The rebels are made up of both Secondaries- humans- and Primaries- super-humans like me. I don't like to think of myself as superior over humans because a lot of humans support the Bureau as well, but I suppose that's what I am. The ability to melt something with a single thought isn't exactly inferior...

Although titles are a little ridiculous to me, they really are necessary. The good Primaries are those of us who are a part of the Bureau. And as a sort of unwelcome nickname- the title, The Bureaucrats, emerged and sort of stuck. I'm not really sure what else we'd be called though, so I'd say it's a pretty good name.

On the other hand, you have the Westernites and the Easternites- two factions of rebels that reside on either side of America. The rebels split the country in half, defending and controlling troops separately from each other. It's not to say that they're not in cahoots with each other- they send supplies and come to each others' aid, but they couldn't only have one faction and survive being as spread out as they are.

Not only are they named after their region, but each rebel takes the surname East or West according to their faction as a way to sort of proclaim that anyone who is a rebel is a part of the giant family.

The rebels are in a minority, but they are still a formidable enemy, and they can't be underestimated.

“Erika?” She repeats. I emerge from my thoughts yet again and form an educated answer.

“The rebels think that the Better Society Bureau is an evil government program that oppresses both Primaries and Secondaries, and because they fear for their freedom. They revolted against the government, and that's why they are fighting us now.”

I look to Ms. Britto for approval, and she's nodding proudly at my textbook explanation. Seth raises his eyebrow, seemingly amused.

“Is that what you think, or is that all you know?” He asks with a challenge.

“Ms. Britto told us stories, but besides the textbook and her second hand accounts, I know next to nothing about this war.”

Mr. Matthews smirks and leans against the whiteboard with his arms crossed smartly.

“This is pretty important, Charlotte. Do you mind if I take over for a while?”

“No sir, go right ahead.” She affirms nervously.

“Great.” he says with a smile, clapping his hands together.

“Anything you want to know in particular?” He asks.

Alex raises her hand and he nods in her direction, allowing her to speak.

“Why were the rebels so opposed the Bureau when it was first introduced?”

Mr. Matthews stands thinking for a few moments before he stands up straighter and paces in front of our desks as he starts his lecture.

“Well, the war broke out in the late summer of the year 2990. The fourth of August, to be exact, but in retrospect, the war didn't start as suddenly as some make it out to be. In fact, it took an entire thirteen months before any violence occurred. The Better Society Bureau was created by our elected president at the time, Lyon Gaffer. Biogenics was a huge issue in that time, and Gaffer, in secrecy, hired his own scientists to explore a way in which he could improve the human race. Finally, a scientist by the name of Jared Matthews created the first Primary. Me.

“News of my... birth reached the public about a year later, and everything went haywire. Of course, by that time, I was already born, and thousands of other Primaries were being created directly after my fathers' success. It was morally wrong to create those lives, many thought, but it would be worse to end them after they'd already been made.

“Humans began to prepare and plan for the major shift in society that was predicted. Gaffer proposed a program to house and train the Primaries separately from the humans- to give them a place where they could be accepted, and where they could learn to be good citizens- until they were ready to be integrated into a human society and change it for the better.

“The majority of the country was deeply opposed to this idea, but the damage, so to speak, was already done. The Primaries had already been created. Congress, though, had an entirely new plan. They voted, with the people's approval, to place the existing Primaries into the hands of willing human families to raise them as they would a regular child.

“All was well until Gaffer- angered by Congress' back handed action of bypassing his authority- he built ten Bureau Head Quarters in the country and pulled all of the Primaries living with humans and relocated them into these buildings. With his standing army, he disposed of Congress and the Senate, which were significant in keeping the democracy. He took away the vote and declared himself a monarch.

“Naturally, the people revolted, but that was not until the Momentous Change, much later. It took a while for the simmering pot of war to boil over.

“The human families had grown attached to their charges, and many were extremely reluctant to part with their adopted children. Those that denied Gaffer his children back were put on trial and sentenced to death almost without exception. With their voices gone from the government, the people began to fear that their children would be trained as a military means. No amount of human power could overcome an army of Primaries.

“Gaffer never ceased his production of Primaries within the labs, and the people- already distraught and wary of his next move- were pushed to the breaking point when he made his Bureau the central part of his new government. The best interest of the people was decided by those who ran the Bureau, Gaffer included. And the best interest of the people, he decided was to strip every human of their rights. This, in turn, allowed him to execute unruly subjects without a just trial, and he could take property if he was in need among other powers he granted himself.

“The Momentous Change occurred when a secret group of rebels made an attempt on Gaffer's life. Even though they failed, the bold action caused the two factions of rebels we know well today to form, and the near hit kick started the war. The Easternites and Westernites formed a very annoying alliance and are still fighting us in small battles here and there.

“Although this is only a brief overview of the conflict, I hope this clears things up for you, Alexandra.”

Alex only nods quickly, digesting the story just as slowly as I. My mouth, clearly agape, snaps shut as I absorb this information. Even though Mr. Matthews is one of the most prestigious agents in the Bureau, he seems to be very bitter towards Gaffer, and even a little sympathetic towards the rebels.

Daniel's hand creeps into the air, and Seth points at him, waiting for his question.

“Do you think Gaffer was wrong to create the Better Society Bureau?”

“No, I think the Bureau is a fantastic idea- necessary, even- but I also believe that if he had handled things much differently, we wouldn't be fighting a 27 year old war. Tact is important, and it seems to me, if I'm looking at the history objectively, that Gaffer truly lacked tact in a time where it was most needed. Even the greatest of humans make mistakes.”

We all nod in agreement. The facts really did make him look like a tyrannical mastermind, but taking Mr. Matthew's answer to his second question into consideration, what he said makes a lot of sense.

“Any other questions?” He asks expectantly. None of us makes a move and he smiles pleasantly. “Come and see me if you ever have another question about the conflict.” His eyes rest on me as he says this, almost like he's beckoning for me to come see him after class.

I shake off the silly notion, and zone out as Ms. Britto continues her far less interesting lecture. A lecture that lasts another hour. The last two hours are given to us to study or catch up on work we're behind in.

The urgent blast of the bell rips me out of my runaway thoughts. I start zipping up my backpack out of habit, and sling it around my shoulders before I straighten the desk chair.

The door to the classroom pops open slightly as the light above it turns green, and my friends and I pile through and wait as the attendance man logs us out of class. Once he writes all our names down, we make our trek to Mr. Payton's gym.

“I never knew that about our history. It kinda sucks to be told just now that we were made out of a dish...” Carrie says beside me, to no one in particular.

“Yea, but it's even weirder to think that I might have grown up with a family of humans if Gaffer hadn't have created the Bureau.” I say in reply.

“Well, we don't for sure know if we were placed with a family. We could have been created after the Bureau was built. For all we know, we've been here since our birth.” Daniel says finally, as if this whole conversation isn't even worth our time.

“Yea...” I say sighing.

We round the corner and walk down the hallway some before Carrie, Alex, Sierra and I walk towards the room to the right. We each scrawl our names into the attendance sheet at the entrance of the hall before entering the room. Daniel waves after doing the same and heads into the boys' dressing room on the left side of the hall.

I punch in the code for my tiny locker and pull out my Bureau issued gym clothes after the lock snaps open. I pull off my bland gray uniform and step into my gym clothes.

“Hey Erika, I know you keep saying that you like Daniel, but he doesn't feel the same. You should think about moving on.” Sierra says bluntly.

No shit.

I pull on my stark white tennis shoes and tie the laces while sitting on a wooden bench near my locker.

“I know, Sierra.”

“He plans to talk to you about it later. So just be ready.” She says harshly. She walks past me, and pushes the door to the gym open.

I walk over to the shared mirror and pull my hair up into a ponytail as my stomach drops with dread. I hate fighting with Sierra. She's been pushing me to get over Daniel since the beginning of this year, and she always gets angry when I tell her it's not that simple. I also hate the fact that I might have to confront Daniel soon and face rejection.

Carrie slinks up next to me, braiding her hair. Her mouth scrunches into a concentrated mass as she flips her raven black hair this way and that.

“Just be careful when you talk to him.” She says quietly.

I roll my eyes. Why do they even care?

“What else would I be?” I say angrily. She ties off the braid and raises her hands, palms towards me.

“Just saying... Try not to upset the balance of our group. We've got a good thing going.”
I ignore her and crumple all my clothing into a ball. I press it into the back of my locker, slam the door shut, and jam the button that clicks the lock shut. I shove the door to the gym open and walk to the center, my arms crossed.

Mr. Payton greets me with a brief nod of his head and continues his conversation with Mr. Matthews.

Alex comes up behind me and rests her head on my shoulder.

“They aren't trying to be mean Ricky, they're just worried about how you'll react.”

“I know. I'm just so sick of feeling guilty for how I feel. I like someone, and they act like it's the end of the world.”

“If it's any consolation, I'm with you on this. I've got your back.”

“Thanks Alex.” I say, a small smile forming on my lips. Relief seeps through my body at the prospect of having her by my side.

“No problem girly.” She says, a wide grin painting her face.

The bell blasts throughout the room once more and Mr. Payton lets out an ear piercing whistle to get our attention.

In the center of the gym, is a sparring circle painted red, and a white ring surrounding it. On the far wall, two white boards sit side by side. The first is sectioned into a five column table, and each of our names owns a single column.

In the columns are our fitness times that we have to beat by December, and below those are our rankings in hand-to-hand combat, firearm combat, and swordplay.

Below even those, are the scores we earn from using the simulation room- the only place we can unleash and practice our abilities. Those scores are determined by how many simulated rebels we can take down in a ten minute period of time. Our access to the room is limited to ten minutes per week.

The main purpose for that, is that the Bureau doesn't want us to rely solely on our power to keep us alive.

On the second board, the sparring schedule is listed. Today's sparring partners are Carrie and Daniel.

“Take your places in the circle, munchkins” Mr. Payton says to Daniel and Carrie. They walk to the center, smiling and get in a ready stance.

“Erika, will you hit the bell?” He asks, nodding towards the match bell mounted on the wall adjacent to the one with white boards. I jog over to the bell and snatch the rope hanging from the bottom of it. Mr. Payton gives me the signal, and I tug the rope violently, satisfied with the intrusive ringing sound emitting from the little bell.

I jog back to the outer edge of the ring and watch the match. The fighting slips from the forefront of my mind as the information I received earlier takes its place.

I wish I could remember my family.

Children aren't placed in groups with their peers until they turn eight. Before The Choosing- which is the process where our leaders place a number of four to eight children into a group together- all the children seven and under, live in a separate building. They are brought up with minimal education, but live a strict life in a nursery-like environment in order to prepare them for the even stricter life in the Head Quarters. The thing about these groups though, is that they are for life. Whoever is Chosen to be placed with you is there with you until you die.

There are a few exceptions of course, like getting so high in the agent's profession that you have to leave them behind in order to fulfill your duties.

I come back to the fight, and watch as Carrie parries Daniel's kick and gains a firm hold of the leg he shot at her. She twists, her back facing him and she holds his foot over her shoulder like a lumber jack might sling an ax over his. She scoops back slightly before using her hips and lots of leverage to slam Daniel to the ground. He tries to get up, but she flies to the floor and presses her knee into his chest, daring him to make a move.

He wheezes, desperately trying to catch his breath and waves his hand in defeat. Carrie gets up triumphantly and I run to the bell and let it ring twice, announcing Carrie's success.

Mr. Payton walks to the whiteboard and changes the ranking, moving Carrie up a spot higher than Daniel, right under me and Sierra in hand to hand combat. He turns to say something, but the bell interrupts him suddenly, and he frowns.

Wow. An hour already? How long was I zoning for? They fought for a whole hour?

“I guess I have to let you go! Thanks for watching, Seth.”

“Sure Charles. Thanks for letting me sit in! Nice work Carrie.” He says with a sly smile.

“Thank you Mr. Matthews!” She says beaming. She skips into the locker room and I turn to follow Alex and Sierra there as well.

“Ms. Michaels!” Mr. Matthews shouts suddenly. I cringe inwardly. What could he want?

Sierra looks at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly, and I just shrug. I walk back to the two men and wait for Mr. Matthews to tell me what I'm still doing here. He smiles approvingly at my responsiveness and waits a moment before he speaks.

“I need you to come visit me after you're done with dinner. We have a matter to discuss. My office is upstairs. I'll be sure to let the guard know I'm expecting you. He'll let you in.”

“Of course.” I reply dutifully.

What the hell?

I jog back to the door and look behind me before entering the locker room. My eyes travel to the silver haired stigma and accidentally catch him staring at me as I leave. He shoots me a quick smirk and I divert my gaze as I leave.

I'm so confused right now.

It takes me no less than two seconds to walk through the door before my three friends overwhelm me with their barrage of questions.

“What did he want?” Sierra asks with wide eyes.

“He wants to talk.” I say, scratching my neck.

“About....?” Carrie asks.

“I have no clue.”

“I'm sure it's nothing.” Alex says with a suggestive lopsided smile.

I roll my eyes and push through them to open my locker. I quickly change back into my uniform and release my hair from its elastic prison. I turn to find them all staring at me with knowing smiles.

I sigh exasperatedly and walk towards them.

“Yes! Yes, I'll tell you every single detail tomorrow when we see each other for breakfast.”

The girls laugh and slap my back in encouragement. We log ourselves out on the sheet outside the locker room and wait for Daniel. He joins our little crowd and we let the smell of delicious food lead us to the mess hall for dinner.

4: Chapter 4

We push into the cafeteria and everyone turns to look at us as we enter. We're the oldest kids in the whole room, and destined for greatness- or so say all of our past teachers. When I've spoken to groups below us, they tell me that sometimes our old teachers talk about how much potential my group has, and they gush about how they had the honor to help us learn.

That and the fact that we're such good friends calls more attention to our little group. It's rare to have such a cohesive unit.

We make our way to the dinner line and receive our food as if no eyes were on us. We sit down at our usual table and eat silently. Tension is high, especially after what Sierra and Carrie said to me in the locker room. I can also feel Daniel's tenseness practically emanate from him.

Daniel taps his fork against his plate, neglecting his bland mozzarella pasta. The sound gets increasingly louder and people start to stare as the ringing vibrates throughout the room.

Suddenly, the noise ceases, and I look up from a mouthful of pasta, and find Daniel staring at me with a faraway look.

“Can I talk to you after dinner?” He asks in my direction.

“I don't know. I have to go see Mr. Matthews after dinner. I don't know how long it will take, but if we have time before curfew, I'll come find you.”

His face scrunches up in confusion, and his expression turns almost angry.

“What does Mr. Matthews want?” He asks with a level voice that betrays his facial expression.

Since when did you care?

“I don't know.” I reply quietly, spooning more noodles into my mouth, ignoring the look he's giving me.

“Be careful Ricky. I don't like that guy- he gives off a bad vibe.”

I look up at him, anger bubbling up inside me. Who the hell does he think he is?

“We have a good thing going...” Carrie's voice reverberates in my head and I close my eyes. I take a deep breath, calming myself. I should leave before I do something stupid.

“I have to go.” I say, frowning. I drop my fork onto my plate and pick the platter up. I scoot back from the table and push the chair back in after getting up. I make my way slowly to the wash bin and set the plate into the tub with water, putting my fork in the utensil bin.

With my head up, I walk out of the mess hall with purpose. Once the door swings shut, I let my shoulders slump and feel my head droop.

Making my way to the offices in the building, I encounter a guard by the stairs. I stop before him, unsure, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

“Name?” He asks gruffly.

“Erika Michaels.”

He nods, and lifts his hand, gesturing for me to go up the steps.

“Go down the hall on your first right, walk all the way to the end and Mr. Matthews' name is on the door.”

“Thank you.” I say gratefully.

I had planned on a lot of wandering, but now I don't have to feel like an idiot. Students aren't usually allowed upstairs, because that's where the teachers live and congregate, and it's the floor that holds the offices for all the important people. The third and highest floor houses the interrogation rooms and holding cells for any rebel that commits crimes against the Bureau in this area. It's protected with top surveillance and the most recent technology, mostly because they're worried about rebels escaping and hurting the students.

I guess they never thought about building a prison for the sole purpose of dealing with rebels, but to each his own, I suppose.

I take the first right, and walk down a dimly lit hallway that seems to last forever. Maybe three minutes later, I come up on a dead end. Well, a dead end, that has a door that leads into a dead end room.

Seth Matthews
Headquarters Coordinator
Director of Training

The name and job title are painted expertly on a dark cherry wood door. I knock quietly and wait for a response.

“Hold on, I'm coming!” Mr. Matthews shouts from behind the door. I hear a ruffling noise and a loud crash followed by a curse.

Mr. Matthews yanks open the door, sighing heavily. His silver hair is disheveled and his tie is strewn over his shoulder.

“I apologize Ms. Michaels, I was in the middle of paper work. I didn't forget about our meeting, but as it is, I get lost in my responsibility.”

“No worries.” I say with an amused smile on my face. He smiles back, and after a moment of awkward silence, I think he might end up talking to me from the doorway. Remembering to let me in, he peels back the door wide enough and I walk in under his arm that holds the door above my head.

Entering his office, I can see why it took him so long to reach the door. Unlike the meticulously spotless office I imagined- boxes, numerous bookshelves, cabinets, and even clothes litter the marble floor around his large wooden desk. A single crimson seat is placed on the opposite side of his desks, obviously meant for visitors such as me. His chair is very much what you would imagine any big time boss would own. Dark brown leather stretches tightly over the scuffed wood of the massive frame, indented occasionally by matching leather buttons. Complete with a set of wheels, of course.

“Please, sit.” he says formally. He shuts the door behind me, walks over to his giant rolly chair and plops down into it. He shovels several piles of paperwork into overcrowded file folders and hefts them to the ground.

I walk over to the red chair I assume is for me, and step over several objects carefully before sitting down myself.

“I'm sorry for the mess.” He says sighing. “I suppose I should be more orderly, but I just don't have the time, nor the willpower.”

I nod awkwardly, not really sure what to say in this moment. I don't really care about the mess- it's not my place to judge the way someone uses their space.

The awkwardness settles, and I adjust my position in the seat, waiting for Mr. Matthews to clue me in as to why I'm here.

“So, I'll jump right in. You're here because you've been chosen by someone very high on the power spectrum to be their personal... agent.”

Instantly, doubt and confusion floods into my thoughts.

Who could possibly want me? Personal agent? Why does that sound so... dirty?

“Exactly how high are we talking?” I ask coolly.

“Like President Gaffer high.” He says, a smirk curling on his lips.

“Why in the hell would the president be interested in me of all people? What do I have to offer?”

“Have you forgotten you can melt anything and everything you want with a thought? You have a very powerful ability, and none other share it. You should consider, also, that Gaffer is a very power-oriented person, and if he does not have it properly and comfortably contained, he gets much less power-oriented and far more violent.”

I remain silent for a few moments, letting his revelation sink in. My president wants me under his wing. My group has always wanted to be high in the ranks, but I never even dreamed of skipping all the way up to working directly for the president with no years of proving myself involved.

“What exactly does a personal agent do? From the way you said it, it sounds like a less than desirable job.”

“That's because it is. I his personal agent once, and I was at Gaffer's every beck and call for years on end. You're about the age that I was when I went to work for him, and he had me conducting raids, breaking up rebellions, bringing justice to many districts in peril, doing business with other chapters of the Bureau, carrying out laws that he'd passed, and retrieving Primary children from rebel parents to put in the care of the Bureau's schools and nurseries. On the other hand, I did all of his paperwork, represented him in dull meetings, answered his phones and made his appointments.”

Seth takes a deep breath after his long job description. He stares at me with what I would call a pitying look.

“Did you ever work in the nursery for your required volunteer hours?” He asks randomly.

I nod, suppressing a shudder at the memory of all the spoiled children who were too stubborn to listen to a word I said. I swear their ears where filled with lead-

“Well, take the worst kid you ever dealt with, amplify his attitude times a thousand, put him in a fifty-one year old body, tack on a rampant sex drive, and that right there, will be your boss for however long he deems he needs you.”

Fuck.

“I don't say this to scare you. I just want you to know what to expect. You should also realize now that there is no way out of this. Gaffer must have you under his thumb, or else you're a danger to him, and everything he stands for. He can't afford to let you fly under the radar.”

“Why just now? Why didn't he raise me himself so that he could keep me close?”

“Because he had no idea about your powers up until very recently.”

“How did he find out?”

“Your group is due to enter the Trials soon. He's been searching for a top agent every year since he reassigned me here, and you and your friends are the closest to those he can get under his control the fastest. He's told me that if you don't pan out, mine and another colleagues' life is forfeit. All the previous students I've provided didn't make the cut, and you're my last hope.”

“So if I declined this responsibility, you would die?”

“Not only me, but a very close friend of mine. Don't forget also, that Gaffer couldn't let you live unless he can keep a close eye on you. You should probably also assume he would kill your group out of vengeance for turning his magnificent 'offer' down.”

I close my eyes and wait for the panic and dread to dissipate from my stomach. My head drops back against the chair and I breathe unsteadily, trying to calm myself.

You're doomed. For life.

This is exactly my luck. Why am I even surprised? Of course I would be forced to be recruited by my insane president. I'm also very aware of the fact that Mr. Matthews mentioned his 'sex drive'. That definitely can't mean nothing.

Hopeless resignation washes over me, and a cold, bleak hole bores itself into the secret place in my heart, where I held dreams for a bright future.

“What do I have to do?” I say blankly.

Seth looks up surprised.

“You're not going to fight it? I expected at least a little resistance to the idea.”

“I don't have a choice. So tell me what I have to do, and I'll do it.” I say, frustrated. I'd like nothing more than to be done with this conversation. This cozy office lost its bookish magic the minute I learned about my true purpose.

He raises his eyebrows and chews on the inside of his cheek tentatively.

“Well, to start off, you'll need a score of 85 or higher out of 100 in your Trials to become a field agent. Each Trial you face is worth 20 points. There are 5 Trials. Each can last for days, and most of them encompass many subcategories. After your Trials, if you score high enough, you will enter a focused training that will prepare you for your duties as Gaffer's personal agent. After that, you're out of my hands, and into his.”

“What will happen to the rest of my group?” A lump forms in my throat as I anticipate his answer.

“Well, Gaffer expressed no interest in any of your group mates, so I wouldn't get my hopes up for being joined by the rest of your group. I'll take to him though, and I'll let you know for sure. All I know is if they did come with you, they'd have to prove their worth in spectaculars ways that you won't. Like I said, don't count on them joining you. Oh- that reminds me- don't let them know what I've told you. I don't want to upset them. Your last Trial depends on group cohesion and unity, and if you are all torn up from drama, you will surely fail. Tell them this meeting was to inform you that you start your Trials in a weeks time.”

“We start our Trial in a week? You're only giving me a week to adjust?”

Mr. Matthews raises his hands defensively, he's noticeably pained by having to break this news to me.

“Gaffer's orders. He isn't a very patient creature, and he wants you as soon as he can have you.”

I sigh heavily and nod.

“Thank you Mr. Matth-”

“Call me Seth.”

“Thank you Seth, I guess I'll see you around.”

“I'm really sorry Erika. I wish I didn't have to force you into this. If you have any questions, or you just need someone to talk to, my office door is never locked to you.”

“Thanks.” I give him a tight lipped smile and get up. Before he can get another word out, I rush to the door and half jog down the corridor. Laying in my bed, alone sounds heavenly right now. I push back the burning threat of tears accumulating in my eyes, and increase my pace.

My head down, and rushing to my room, I don't notice anyone standing in my path until I bowl them over.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry.” I spout, just wanting to exchange an apology and go on my way again.

“It's fine.” His honey voice rings through my ears and I automatically internally swoon. I nearly slap my forehead at my girlishness. I don't know when this crush came about, but I couldn't have picked a worse person to like.

I stare up at Daniel and try ignore his perfect windswept blonde hair, and flawless green eyes.

“Oh, hey. Sorry.” I say. I make a move to leave, but he catches my arm and holds it firmly, pulling me back towards him, swinging me around to face him.

“Let's talk.” He says softly.

5: Chapter 5

“Can we talk later? I- I need to go do something.” I ask gently.

“Like what? We both know you don't have anything you need to do.”

“Look, Daniel, I don't particularly want to talk right now-”

His grip tightens on my arm and he wrenches me closer.

“We need to hash some things out.” He says with the same gentle tone as before, but the look in his eyes is dangerous. I shrink away for a moment, but quickly chastise myself for making myself smaller.

I need to be confident, sassy, and unreadable. He can't see that, right now, I'm so vulnerable that anything could break me at this point. He can't see that the only thing motivating me to even stand here, is the promise of a warm bed to mope about in at the end of this dreadful conversation.

“Well then let go of my arm, and just spit it out.” I say with annoyance. His hold on my arm gets even tighter- so tight that a numbness begins to settle in my appendage.

“This crush you have on me- it has to stop. Ricky- you're my best friend, so let's keep it that way. Besides, I like Carrie. Carrie likes me too, and I didn't want you to be surprised when I ask her out tomorrow.”

A wave of shock breaks over me as his soft voice shakes my brain. Carrie had a crush on Daniel too? Why didn't she tell me? We're closer friends than even Alex and I are. At least, I thought we were. I let my face remain stagnant of emotion, and roll my eyes.

“Thanks for the warning, bestie. Is that all?”

His eyes narrow in on me and he steps even closer, using his height and chiseled features to intimidate me. As far as I know, it's really effective, but I'm not going to show him that. Everything in my gut is telling me to wrench my arm from his grasp and just go to room without a single glance, but something keeps me rooted to my spot.

“No. That's not all.”

I roll my eyes and tap my foot for effect.

“Then what?”

“I told you to stay away from Mr. Matthews. My instinct tells me to avoid him, and even after I spoke my concerns, you blithely visit him at-” He cuts off his sentence and glances at his watch. “-8:30 at night. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking, that my superior ordered me to see him. I was thinking that obeying the man who is responsible for determining whether we're ready for the Trials is more important that observing his 'vibe'.” I make quotation gesture at the word vibe, adding venomous sarcasm to my statement.

Anger rises inside me, churning and bubbling, threatening to spill over after every sentence out of his mouth.

“I already know you don't trust him. The thing is, I really don't care what you think and frankly-” Daniel cuts me off, using his hold on my arm to push me against the wall. My back hits the wall in a brisk movement that catches me off my guard. He moves in quickly, regaining his grasp on me, placing both his hands on each shoulder. He slams me into the wall again, my head banging painfully on the drywall.

In this close proximity, his scent wafts up into my nostrils and I breathe deep, savoring his sweet natural smell. And then I remember that he's not lovingly holding me close, or caressing me, or pulling me in for a kiss as I'd always dreamed. Instead, here he his, slamming me into a wall, getting very angry over trivial things and making them much bigger than they are.

To be fully honest, this side of Daniel has never been uncovered. I've never seen him this livid. Least of all have I seen it directed at me. No, this new Daniel frightens me, and I never want to see it again, yet I have a funny feeling that it definitely won't be the last time. This isn't some freakout meltdown. This is a part of who he is. He's just really good at hiding it.

His nails dig into my skin and I cringe at the pure rage in his eyes.

“And yet you still go and see him, alone, in his office. What did he make you do?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Daniel? Seth was just talking to me. He didn't make me do anything.”

“Seth? What, you're on a first name basis with him now?” He laughs psychotically, and shakes his head at me with disappointment. “He'll only create problems for you. Problems for us. Our lives are perfect. We don't need him to screw everything up.”

I can't control myself as I stare at him like he's the biggest freaking idiot to live on this planet.

“Either you're blind, or you're fucking retarded. Nothing in our lives is perfect. Mine is certainly far from perfect. Believe it or not, Seth is helping me through some deep shit, and I don't give a fuck whether it affects your jovial existence.”

“Oh yeah, Erika, because you're life is so much harder than the rest of ours. Poor Erika, she has to turn to Mr. Matthews to cope with her numerous drama problems. What do you think your group is here for? We're here to listen. “

“None of you have ever given me the time of day. What do you even care? It's not like you ever thought twice about my well being before. You don't care about me. Not even as friends. Maybe you used to, but you definitely don't now.”

“What do you think this is?”

He gestures between us, as if that was an obvious explanation.

“So you, telling me to fuck off and get over you, and then flipping out and getting extremely territorial over absolutely nothing is your way of showing me you care.”

“I already told you Erika, Mr. Matthews is bad news.”

Something in me snaps. My patience stretched dangerously tighter with every back-and-forth, the tension reaches so high that I break. Pain, anger, disbelief, rage, sadness, fear and frustration at his unreasonableness floods into my emotion bank.
“I'M NOT EVEN FUCKING DATING HIM.” I scream into his face. He snarls and before I can even think about what's happening, Daniel raises his hand slaps me. Hard. My face snaps to the side and I hold the afflicted area with my hand, gingerly. My eyes wide open, my brain goes into overdrive at the prospect of what just happened. The taste of blood seeps into my mouth and I find that I caught my tongue and the side of my cheek in between my teeth, cutting both pretty deeply.

Silence fills the air around us, besides my gasping and his labored breathing. Seconds after the initial shock of the hit, a stinging pain assaults the right half of my face where his hand slapped me.

“Don't ever raise your voice at me like that again.”

I right myself, still bug-eyed, I'm sure, and in a flash of anger, I throw all my weight into a right hook. My vision goes white for a moment, but when it returns to normal, I find Daniel cradling the left side of his face.

“Oops. Sorry Danny. It sucks that you'll have to ask Carrie out tomorrow with a big black bruise marring your ugly face.” I snarl at him.

He roars at me and lunges. He grabs a hold of my hair and throws me to the floor. He's down on top of me in seconds and I punch at him in every sensitive area that I can think of, but I have no torque or advantage from this position. No hits that I land do all that much damage.

He socks me in the stomach and pain ruptures in my abdomen. I cough and hack in pure agony. A hazy fog rests in my brain and before it gets too bad, I throw every single ounce of strength into reversing our vantages. I roll on top of him and jump up before kicking him as hard as I can in the balls. He yells out and rocks back and forth, holding his livelihood in his hands. I start to stomp away, but he screams again, and jumps onto my shoulders, bringing me flat on my face, with all his weight bearing down on my upper body. He smashes my face into the tile three times and I start to fade out of consciousness.

Suddenly, Daniel is pulled off of me and a loud booming voice is practically screaming at him. Two large, pale white hands pull me off my stomach, and lifts me up on me feet to rest me against the wall. I watch as Seth watches me carefully to make sure that I don't faint.

His face twists in rage as he spins over to Daniel.

“What the hell are you doing up here, boy? Last time I checked, this area is restricted for students.” Seth huffs and closes his eyes, breathing steadily, trying to calm himself.

“Down that hall. My office is on the end. We'll talk about consequences after I deal with her.”

Daniel stares him down defiantly, determined to show this man that he hates so much, that he doesn't take orders from anybody.

“GET IN MY OFFICE. NOW.” Seth shouts. Daniel jumps in fright and breaks out into a run, down the long hallway.

Seth turns around swiftly, and hurries up to me, checking the responsiveness of my pupils with a tiny flashlight he pulls out of no where. The worry in his eyes and the soft, bewildered look in his face help me relax, as he slings my bruised arm over his shoulder and takes most of my weight as we hobble down the steps.

It seems like forever before we actually reach my dorm room, and I sigh in relief as he fishes a master key out of his pocket. He slides the key in and twists, opening the door in a quick movement, while keeping a good hold of me.

I suppose it should bother me that Seth can just walk into any dorm room he wants with that key, but right now, it seems more of a God send. I forgot my keys in the cafeteria, and I wouldn't be able to go back and get them. They always lock the mess hall straight after dinner is over.

Seth leads me to my bed and lays my upper half on the bed, and sits cross legged on the floor as he pulls my shoes off, leaving my feet only clothed in ankle socks. He lifts my legs up onto the bed after and stands up straight, his whole height towering over me in my lying position.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner. I should have heard. I don't know how I didn't-”

“Thank you for coming when you did. I should have been able to fend him off, but I was just angry and emotionally unbalanced after our chat, I wasn't thinking clearly, let alone able to think about overpowering Daniel, who's three times my size.”

“I'm just glad you weren't hurt worse. You might have a slight concussion, but I'll have a healer come check on you before you fall asleep. Whatever you do, make sure you don't fall asleep until you're made well. I can't have you slipping into a coma.”

I nod, smiling tightly for a second time tonight. His silver eyes linger on me before he turns to head to the door. He frowns and rubs his forehead tiredly.

“I guess I'll go handle your group mate. Again, I'm really sorry. I hope you're alright.”

“Thank you.”

And that was that.

6: Chapter 6

I run faster down the hallway, my breath ragged and my heart beating faster than it can manage. Above me, the lights flicker off for seconds at a time, and then come back on in order to repeat the process again and again.

I look over my shoulder as I run.

I see an outline of what used to be Danny.

He looks like him; he smells, and walks like him, but his eyes are empty.

In his hands, he holds a butcher knife.

The lights flicker off, and I find a door at the end of the hall, and try the handle, but it's locked.

The lights come back on, and I look back.

He's even closer now, and running at me with murder written all over his face. I crush my body into the door and jam the handle with my elbow.

Nothing.

I run into it with everything I have.

Still no give.

Daniel is within grabbing distance, and with a last resort kick to the door with all I have in me, it finally gives.

I slip in and push it shut.

Daniels's foot catches in the door and I swear up a torrent.

Shit. Shit! SHIT!

I push against the door and grab the first thing I find.

My hands wrap around a wrench and I bring it down on his foot.

Daniel howls and his foot slips from the door and I shut it quickly and lock it.

I look around frantically and see a folding chair. My shaking hands grab for it and I manage to wedge it under the door.

I find that I'm in a supply closet, that provides absolutely no escape.

Daniel pounds insanely at the door, and he jiggles the doorknob.

I back into the wall and slide down it in despair, holding the wrench with a sweaty death grip, causing my knuckles to go bright white. My chest rises and falls incessantly, my body trying its hardest to supply my blood with the oxygen it needs.

"There's nowhere to go, Erika. I'll get in eventually, and you don't want to know what I'll do with you when I do."

His voice drips with hatred.

The pounding gets louder as he throws his weight against the door.

With each impact, the chair moves out from under the handle, inch by inch.

I rise from my position on the floor, but the terror seizing my body wouldn't allow to go any closer to the door to keep the chair in place. My conscience screamed at me to hold the chair under the handle, but my body disobeys my instincts.

The chair folds and flies away from the doorway, landing at my feet.

The door bursts open and fear constricts my heart.

I hyperventilate as Daniel walks toward me with a venomous smile on his face.

I swing the wrench at his face with all my strength, but he catches the tool as if I were lazily swiping him with it. He rips it from my hands despite my hold on it, and he tosses it far behind him.

Daniel wraps a hand around my neck and pushes me into the wall.

My hands find his arm and try to push him away from me, but his grip is iron-tight.

He holds me there until my lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, and my throat aches from the unwelcome pressure. He squeezes, and pushes down harder on my neck. I choke hard, and my vision blurs around the edges.

I never imagined I would go out this way.

I use the last bit of energy in me to struggle against him in my last ditch effort to escape his wrath, and my impending death, but he holds me against the wall like I'm a rag doll.

The veins in his neck pop out and his jaw clenches. His mouth curls into a snarl and his eyebrows knit in determination.

I feel the life slowly ebb out of me, and I prepare to give in to and accept my imminent death. Daniel lifts his knife to my neck, just under where his hand afflicts my esophagus.

The cool steel kisses my red hot skin, and he pushes slightly, drawing blood from my throat.

Daniel grits his teeth and looks at me with utter disgust.

"Goodbye, Erika"

he spits out at me.

I scream in desperation, anticipating Daniels next move, but the knife cuts deep into my throat, turning my even scream into a gurgle, and blood spills everywhere.

My eyes roll into my head and I fall to the ground after being released from Daniel's grip.

Seconds pass before I'm laying in a pool of my own blood. I see Daniel's red boots pause, then walk out the door, and pain envelopes me.

Everything begins to go black, and I die with Daniels cold face burnt into my mind.