James gritted his teeth as he raised his fist and knocked on Elmhirst’s office door. He waited until he was permitted to enter. He sat as instructed and looked at Elmhirst coolly. The headmaster sighed and took off his reading glasses, folding them carefully and placing them on the desk before him. James noted that neither Desmarais nor Bennett were present, nor had he seen them at breakfast, where he had sat uninterested by his food or the idiotic prattle of his classmates.
“It’s nice of you to come to see me this morning, Mr Alexander,” Elmhirst sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders.
“It was no problem, sir,” he replied politely. “I have a free period at the moment, so I was able to fit this visit in”. He watched the headmaster with an unreadable expression.
“Very good,” Elmhirst nodded. “What on earth happened to your forehead? Was that from the exhibition yesterday?” Elmhirst frowned at him, his display on confusion quite believable.
“Oh this?” James asked, pointing to the crusted wound above his eyebrow. “Bennett struck me last night with that club he carries. I must have been doing something dreadfully wrong, but I still can’t figure out what. It seemed to me I was only sleeping”.
“Did you retaliate?” Elmhirst asked darkly, his expression shifting to a cold anger in seconds.
“Reflexively I destroyed the club. I didn’t think before it was done. He then knocked me to the floor and kicked me repeatedly until he snapped some of my ribs,” James said the words coldly, his tone level, his expression blank. “But once he had left me in peace again, I repaired them”.
“And you failed to repair your forehead?” he asked dryly. James raised his eyebrows at him and smiled, running his finger across the mark for a second.
“I was considering keeping it. I was finding it quite the conversation starter,” he said. “But if you don’t like it, well there you go”. He lifted his hand away from the angry wound Bennett had left, his skin miraculously healed, knitted together, only a slight pink line remaining. James liked the idea that Elmhirst would worry about what the patrons would think had they seen it. He hoped that Elmhirst would reprimand Bennett for attacking him and physically marking him in such a cruel and unnecessary fashion.
Elmhirst stared at him. “Wonderful, Mr Alexander. Such a talent,” he smiled coldly. “Now, I am not going to waste any more of your or my time. I am going to get straight to the point,” Elmhirst explained, thrumming his fingers against the desk, as he leaned away from him slightly. “It has come to my attention that Ms Owens may be causing a little bit of discord in my school”.
“I am not aware of any discord she has caused – not recently in any case. Though I am sure if you asked her yourself…” James said calmly.
“You know very well where she is Mr Alexander, there is no point playing coy with me. I created you. I know how your mind works. I know you understand fully why you are here. Tell me about the end of the exhibition yesterday,” he ordered.
“The end of the exhibition? We raced to the top of the platform, we both moved to hit the red button, Owens shot me and everything went black”.
“Your gun jammed,” Elmhirst remarked.
“Yes,” James replied, unperturbed by Elmhirst’s manner.
“And you couldn’t unjam it? You were not able to return the shot fired by Miss Owens with your alteration?” he asked raising an eyebrow.
“I guess I could have done that if I had thought of it,” James said slowly. “Honestly, my brain was running on adrenaline. My thoughts from the exhibition are quite foggy. I don’t really know what I was thinking, coming towards the end”.
YOU ARE READING
Altered
Science Fiction'They wore uniform grey, their expression hard and distant, their muscles taut with expectation, as if at any moment they were ready to lead an assault, to carry out orders, to kill, to die. And yet they were. Kingston had trained these children to...
