Origins

A Story by None

In the hospital bed, the new mother slept peacefully, her daughter near her in a small bed. Wisps of pure white hair covered the head of the smiling newborn. Small fists clasped at invisible images above her head, lights shining in unrecognisable shapes. A small giggle echoed through the room. A shadow passed by the window, pausing silently just out of sight. The shadow raised its hand, and placed it on the window. The baby could feel the sorrow of the shadow, could feel the pain. Silently, the baby cried reaching for the shadow, wishing to comfort it, to share its pain. As the shadow turned and walked away, the baby felt the light leave with it. Only the stark, bright hospital lights, and the empty shadows they created were left to fill the emptiness. The baby stopped suddenly, and slept.

Her bare feet pounded on the floor, kicking small stones off the pavement. She was running as fast as she could, her small blanket and the clothes she wore the only things she owned in the world. She couldn’t go back, not now.
She stopped and looked around. Through her tears she saw the dark, menacing shadow of her stepfather. A small whimper escaped her lips, and she began to run again.
She only knew that she had to get away. She didn’t know how she had done what she did, didn’t know why. She tripped over a grate in the road, and rolled onto her back. Her trouser leg had ripped, and she could feel the blood trickling down over her knee. She clenched her teeth, and climbed back to her feet. The sound of her stepfather’s shouts had woken up the entire street. Lights flashed on, voices rose, and the advantage of darkness was lost.
She bandaged her injured leg crudely with her small blanket, and pushed off the lamppost she had been using as a leaning post while she repaired her knee. She looked up, trying to adjust to the new brightness. Suddenly, she remembered her stepfather behind her. He wasn’t too far off, she could hear him shouting in the distance. She had an advantage in time; he had been unconscious for a little while. At first, all she had done was stare at what she had done. The amount of blood that came out of the wound shocked her, and watching her mother’s horrified face had made her run. It had been better to run, she wouldn’t have lived if she had stayed.
The trees of the park loomed up in front of her. She gasped in awe as she saw the giant figures of the majestic oak trees grow, as she got closer. She had seen nothing like this in her sheltered life. The branches reached out to her, beckoning for her to come closer. She slowed her pace, heart beating, pounding against her ribs. She listened to the whispers, letting the calm of the sound wash over her. She heard her stepfather behind her again, and glanced around. She knew she was safe here; any direction taken through the trees would be hidden. A smile broke out on her face, and she walked into the embrace of the trees, and disappeared into the shadows.

The mother sat on the floor, of the room, a mixture of shock and disgust on her face. She tried to stand again, but just collapsed back onto the floor. She looked up at the face of her husband as he walked back through the door muttering under his breath. He didn’t even look at his wife, walking straight to the medicine cabinet. He held his shoulder, the blood seeping through his fingers. He refused to believe what he had just seen, it just wasn’t possible. His drug habit had finally got the best of him. Hallucinations. Had to be. He rummaged through the various packets and boxes in the cabinet, and finally turned and growled at his wife.
“Where’s the bandages?” his teeth were clenched through the pain, and his voice grated, he breathed heavily from chasing.
“We have to go. Come on, get with it” He walked over to the fallen, drugged, woman and picked her up by the scruff of her shirt. She stared at him blankly, her small, painfully white fingers clasping round a lock of snowy white hair. Her eyes closed, and she went limp in his arm.
Another snarl came from his lips, and he threw the mother down to the floor again. She didn’t move. He didn’t particularly care. Now that she was dead, only he knew what a terrible secret his stepdaughter held. And he was going to find out everything.

Everything that had happened in the past slipped away from the girl. She bathed in the river, her clothes now tattered rags on a branch close by. She never stopped looking around her, wary that her stepfather still followed after her. Her skin glowed through the droplets of water than ran down over her, as white as her hair. She never had any colour to her, her hair, eyes and skin were all pure white. She clambered out of the pool of water, and shook her hair to dry it. She carefully put on her rags, and sat down for a rest. All around her was nature, she felt so calm, so protected here. She sighed, and got to her feet.
She thought back to when she first realised she was different, and snarled at the figure she saw in her minds eye. Her stepfather had always mistreated her. Albino freak he used to call her, and smack her round the head. Not gently either. The amount of times she had be thrown into the wall... She shuddered at the memory. But she had got her own back. That day she left, she had found her powers. They made her feel strong, protected. She didn’t need to worry about anything. But old habits die hard, and her fear had overwhelmed her as a child.

She walked slowly away from the pool she had found, and back into the daylight that shone from above the treetops. She puzzled again over the fact she had never known who her father was. Her mother had never mentioned him, seemed ashamed to think of him. Her stepfather’s influence, she was sure. She clenched her fists, and concentrated her anger into a nearby rock. It flew into the air, and landed about 5 metres from where it started, and proceeded to shatter into thousands of pieces. The child felt much better now. She flicked her shoulder length, crudely cut hair behind her ears, and started walking again.

She'd been escaping from her stepfather since she was seven and now she was ten. Three solid years of running from a man who had killed her mother. No child, she told herself, should go through something like this. Most children would be in school with friends, learning things. Then again, most children couldn’t protect themselves with shields, 'bubbles' as she had come to see them as, and most children couldn't control objects with their thoughts. They learned math and English. She taught herself as much as she could from books from the library, and other people’s rubbish. She wasn't stupid. She just happened to be more streetwise than her 'ordinary' counterparts. She saw them around her travels a lot, standing in groups, talking. She couldn't form the words more often than not. It frustrated her a lot. She was often frustrated with her situation in general, but took it in stride. For a ten-year-old girl, she was very acceptant, and ignored her misfortune, concentrating instead on fighting her weaknesses and making herself stronger.

Three years later she was thirteen. She had learnt to control her powers well, and understood that her bubbles gave her the protection she needed to confront her stepfather. She wanted the truth, and she was going to get it.

Her stepfather had hired help by this time; he knew she was too powerful for him to handle alone. She made her tracks open and more readable, instead of hiding them as she had done before. She stopped, and waited.
It took them three days to find her. She hadn't moved from her rock. They pointed their guns at her, and she tilted her head to one side, looking at them, trying to hide her amusement at the fear in their eyes. She lowered her head as the shots fired.
Tranquilisers. Her stepfather obviously wanted her alive first. She had guessed as much. The fear began to build inside her as the feeling in her outer extremities began to flow back. She slowly sat up, fighting the urge to vomit. The world spun around her, creating a web of light and sound. Her memory flashed back to a similar situation. A large white room, bright lights... a feeling of emptiness, and a dark shadow. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Her head lowered, she heard footsteps approaching. The feet stepped into view. Her head still lowered, she gathered as much information as she could. The breathing, the perfectly polished shoes, the nervous shuffling of hands. She lifted her head and stared her stepfather in the eyes. He shifted slightly, not used to the blatant disregard for courtesy he saw in her eyes. His left shoulder clicked horribly, and he grimaced. The girl withheld the urge to grin. That injury, she remembered from all those years ago, was caused by her.

"So." he sneered down at her. "I suppose this is it isn’t it. What I’ve been waiting for. Hm?" He kicked the metal cage his stepdaughter was encased in. She slammed her palms down on the floor to stop herself from falling, or from giving away the extent of her powers too soon. She could wait. Five years she had waited for this moment. A few more minutes couldn’t hurt. They say revenge is a dish served cold; she was going to wait until freezing point.
"Answer me! How does it feel to be on the other end of power?" The question surprised her, but she managed to keep control of her expression. She hadn’t even realised he'd been talking.
'Concentrate' she thought to herself. 'You know what you want to find out'.
"Untalkative are we?" he kicked the cage again, and the girl scowled. He snorted horribly, and turned on his heel to leave.
"Wait." Her voice came out almost a whisper. Her stepfather turned and looked at the girl, and his mouth dropped in awe and horror as the cage pulled itself apart in front of his eyes. He looked at the girls face. "Tell me about my father." She whispered. Her stepfather, now a gibbering mess just stared. "My father." she repeated. "Tell me why I am like this" She gestured to her hair, eyes, skin and the floating pieces of cage, rocks and bones circulating her person.

Her stepfathers mouth open and shut, reminding the girl of the fish in the stream that she had killed and eaten to keep herself alive. Strange how that which is strong in one place is weak in others. A fish out of water, her stepfather was out of his league.
She could visibly see his resolve harden as the seconds ticked past.
"I'm not the one you should be asking." He sneered at her again. Confidence had filled his heart, the blood carrying the newfound adrenaline through his system. He gestured for her to follow him. Her bare feet slapped on the ground lighting as she followed him, aware of everything around them. She felt the grass beneath her feet, the dew slipping gently through her toes. How she loved the feel of nature. None of this big city stuff for her, she belonged away from that. As she followed her stepfather, she noticed large men carrying guns, some pointed at the ground, some directly at her. She shuffled uncomfortably. She wasn't sure how many of these bullets her bubbles could withstand.

Finally, after a fair walk through the campsite they had built for themselves, the girl’s stepfather came to a halt. In front of them was a large truck. Black as soot, it was a technological omen that the girl had no desire to enter. Apparently she had no choice, and began to walk up the steps. Her stepfather grabbed her, and pushed her onto the floor. She clenched her fists, ready to use the surrounding rubble to pelt him to death, or to throw the man himself into the air and watch him fall to his death. He smiled at her, and not evilly this time. It seemed almost, caring. She began to worry even more at this thought, and her guard rose up, visibly in the form of a bubble. The men surrounding her eyes widened, their shock visible through the lowering of weapons and amazed gasps. Green and glowing, her bubble protected her.

Her stepfather nodded, and two men opened the truck doors, one eye each held on the small girl that stood behind their leader. She walked up the steps and into the truck.

In front of her were technical gadgets by the hundreds. Armed guards stood either side, watching the child walk towards the end of the truck. Guns rose behind her, clicking with the arming of their weapons at every step she took. A shadow covered the end of the truck, small trails of smoke emanating from it. She tilted her head in concentration. She recognised that shadow. She recognised the sorrow, recognised the pain. Felt her sorrow, felt her own pain drifting, melting into the shadows. The tendrils of smoke became lighter; her white hair gained a purple tinge. She felt more whole than ever before. The shadow had a figure now, had some basis of a human form. It raised a hand a placed it on the plastic wall that separated the two figures. The girl raised her own hand, and placed it the other side. The shadowy figure raised its head.

"Hello, child." It spoke, barely a whisper, dark and hoarse, unlike the girls, which was light and clear. "I have been waiting for you, you know". The child was startled at this, and withdrew her hand from the glass. The figures shape drifted apart again. "I'm finding it difficult to keep my form" The whisper echoed across to her again. She gently placed her hand back in place, and the figure reformed.
"I want to explain everything to you, let you understand why I have done what I have." The voice broke through her mind, reached into the depths of her memory. "I need to let you understand, before it’s too late..." The figure gasped, and tendrils of smoke shot out across the floor, wrapping themselves around the Childs feet. The girl gasped, and felt the guns click behind her. The tendrils went faster up her body, entangling themselves into her bubble. The bullets reflected off the shield, and into the sides of the truck. Sparks flew from the various machines, but the child did not see this, as her world was slowly turning black.

She woke to find herself standing beside the shadowy figure, but he had more of a form now. A tall man, in dark flowing robes. He was talking to a woman, standing next to her closely. Almost whispering in her ear. The child moved closer, curios as to what the man was saying.
"I want you to know how much I am sorry for this". Her father spoke carefully to the woman, so she understood every word. He began to change, his human form being lost to something more, animal. This animal form of his floated mid-air, and slowly encompassed the woman. The child gasped at the sight of the woman slowly burning into nothing.

The animal figure transformed back into the human form, and the man paced off. The child looked puzzled, and looked at the woman again in her memory. It was a familiar face. Older, more human, but that face.

It was hers.

The surroundings once again faded to blackness, and a new scene began to form itself from the remnants of the last. Blocks of colour melted together. The girl gasped, as the image of her mother built itself. She choked back tears as her mother smiled at the dark man, in the dark cape that she now knew as her father. Her father whispered something unintelligible to her mother, and her mother smiled so wide. The girl had never seen her mother smile like that before. Then her father walked off, and disappeared. The suddenness of him being there, then not made both mother and child jump simultaneously. The child jumped again the hear the chuckles of the shadow next to her.

Once again, the scene faded to black, and the blocks of colour built the next scene. She recognised this one. Her mother, lying in the hospitable bed, asleep. There was her, staring at... herself? The girl looked down, and saw she was in the body of her father. She felt her father’s hand raise, and him place it on the glass, and looked down into the eyes of her baby self. She felt the regret that her father felt as he left her alone with her mother. Felt the sadness that he would probably never see her again. But it was for the best. It truly was.

The scene faded to black once more, and she was left with both her feelings, and her fathers, mingled together to create a whole picture of that scene for herself.

She awoke in the truck with her hand still up against the glass. She raised her head and looked her father in the eye. He nodded, and closed his eyes again.
"You... were born to be my heir." He nodded slowly. "I created you to continue what I began. Your powers and inbred into you, unlike mine. I earned mine through practice of dark magic. But it is too late now. It has gained control of me." He gasped for breath, and raised his head once more. “These people need protection. It was my job, but I gave in to power. I saved people not for their benefit, but my own. I gained power, but with that, I lost myself." The glass melted from between them, and her father grabbed her hand. "Promise me, protect the people. Succeed where I failed. Learn from my mistakes." His hand went limp, but the girl grabbed it to stop him from letting her go. He smiled gently. "You have lived life without a name, but now, you deserve one. Zoojie, I give you what little power I have left". His voice fell, and his head dropped, and the life left him and seeped through the tendrils into Zoojie. She fell to her knees, and cried.

She ran as fast as she could, feet pounding on the ground. Her stepfather tried to stop her. He disappeared and reappeared high in the air. He looked around him. All his men were falling with him. He closed his eyes, as the screams of his men echoed in his ear.
"The end of it all" he whispered to himself.

Seven years later and Zoojie stands on the top of Atlas's Globe. She looks down over the city, and smiles knowingly to herself. Seven years ago, she didn't want to leave the forest. Seven years ago she didn't have a family. Seven years ago, she didn't have a future. She looked down at her feet. The glowing purple aura flowed round her body, the memory of her father shining through. The city wasn't so bad, she thought to herself, as she considered the pros and cons. She protected the people. She was doing what her father couldn't. She was succeeding where so many had failed. Her cape whipped around her shoulders, she tucked her purple tinted hair behind her ears, and she smiled. She wasn't just her father’s daughter. She was Zoojie.

She was a hero.