Holly & Yew

C1

Chapter 1 : You Stir My Heart Around in Your Pot

CHILDHOOD ARC (1-15)

The muggy London air was thick as soup. The sweat dampened Tom's brow as he made his rounds. Wool's didn't have the funds for installing air conditioning, so the matron had placed a handful of electric fans in the most unbearable rooms. The air was so sweltering and the quality of the fans so poor that the spinning blades just pushed the hot air around.

Walking through Wool's was like cleaving a sea of stiff faces. Outwardly, Tom kept his face as placid as possible, though internally he was pleased. It was only right that the other children understood their place.

Tom didn't need anyone to greet him or smile at him or start a conversation with him. He had given up on longing for those things long ago.

Once, he had thought there was something wrong with him—anyone he spent too long with inevitably started fearing him—but now he knew that simply meant there was no one worthy of him. It was like the stories of the angels or the gods. Sheep were not meant to perceive the true forms of those standing above them.

The new children from Burke's had caught on quickly to Tom's status as a social pariah, though they'd been here for all of two days. The other orphanage had closed with the hush of a snuffed cigarette. Tom had overheard, crossing Mrs. Cole's door with slow, intentional footsteps, that the problem had been fund mismanagement. The children at Burke's had gone hungry for weeks. One child had even ended up in the hospital with severe malnourishment.

Tom hadn't been asked to accommodate a roommate yet, though it would only be a matter of time. Whoever it was, he would scare them off as quickly as he'd scared off the last few. A private room was too much of a luxury to give up. Tom needed it to practice.

Billy Stubs turned the corner, and Tom scowled with distaste, stepping into the shadows to avoid a confrontation. He didn't seem to be Billy's target today, which was a blessing in this heat, not that Tom wouldn't have been able to handle himself.

Billy walked right up to a group of three kids playing with marbles.

The little ones had seamlessly accepted the additions from Burke's into their fold. The groups had reorganized a bit, which Tom had only noted from sheer boredom.

Tom wasn't like any of the other children here, and he didn't see much point in learning anything about them when he already knew they were going to lead very different lives. Tom would be rich and powerful and worshipped by thousands one day, while these dollops would be lucky to inch their way out of the dirt.

"Give me the marbles," Billy demanded.

"B-but it's not your turn yet," one of the babies said timidly.

"It's my turn when I say it is," Billy scoffed.

"That's not how turns work," one of the Burke's kids argued. It was a tiny girl with bright red hair.

"I'll show you how turns work," Billy menaced. He raised his hand, and the Burke's girl flinched, turning to the side. Billy let out a cruel laugh at the reaction.

For all his two brain cells, Billy was still a hefty ten-year-old. Tom had been on the other side of that hand too many times. That was, at least, until he discovered his power. Billy left him alone now for the most part. It was a volatile balance that Tom knew wouldn't last long.

"Please, Billy! Sally's from Burke's. She doesn't know the rules yet," Terry, Tom's second attempted roommate, pleaded.

"Are you volunteering then?" Billy jeered.