Chapter Seven

Driving through New York City is never a pleasant experience. The crowds, the rude drivers, the asshole pedestrians, it is all just one big clusterfuck of unpleasant experiences. My mother’s apartment ended up being a penthouse loft in a thirty floor building in the middle of New York. We have just pulled into the parking garage near the building and are on our way to the elevator that will take us up to the awaiting multi-million dollar loft.

As we stand in the elevator as it slowly makes its way up my mother begins to speak.

“This apartment will be your new home and our current base of operations. Your childish games will end now. I will need your absolute best for the upcoming missions I have planned.”

“Yes mother.” I give my curt reply as the elevator doors swing open. I always end up talking very formally with my mother. It has just always been that way. She has always treated me with the same decorum. I follow my mother as we enter the apartment and the second I do a gunshot resounds throughout the room. I’ve been shot and it is not a pleasant feeling. I look up to see Felicia standing behind the smoking barrel of the pistol she is currently holding. The bullet went straight through my heart and blood is now leaking down both sides of my shirt. It hurts like a bitch, but I am not losing consciousness and I actually notice the pain beginning to slowly fade away. I look down at my chest to see the wound slowly closing up right before my eyes. I knew I could regenerate, but not this fast. This is fucking insane. Am I invincible now?

My mind is working harder than ever before to figure out what is actually going on, but in my stupor I forgot to speak. I have been standing in place staring at my chest for the last few minutes. I finally look up and address my assailant.

“Hello Felicia, you are looking as lovely as I remember although I preferred the outfit you had on before.” Felicia is now wearing a gray t-shirt and pink shorts. It is a huge difference to what she had on last time we met, nothing. I only realize my mistake a few seconds after saying my sentence. Felicia is the name I made up for her, I never actually learned her name.

I look up to see both my mother and Felicia staring at me with inquisitive looks on their faces. My mother chimes in first.

“Who is Felicia?” She says this although the answer is very obvious.

“The girl that just shot me. I thought she looked like a Felicia the last time I saw her so that’s what I ended up calling her.” I said this in a very matter of fact way and continue on with a bit more anger, “Why was I just shot and why is she here??”

“She works for me. Her real name is Alicia if you even care. Your made up name is surprisingly close to her actual one. Good job.” Sarcasm is easy to spot when it is coming from my mother.

“She will be teaching you what your powers are and also helping you control them. There is an entire side of this world that you are now about to learn about.” With those final words, my mother walked into the room on the left, leaving Felicia and I alone.

“Why did you need to shoot me? I already knew I had powers.” I am now staring straight into Felicia’s eyes. The more I stare the more they look like tiny flames. It is almost hypnotizing.

“I was just following Mrs. Ellsworth’s orders. Your training will begin tomorrow. Wake up at five a.m. tomorrow morning and meet me here.” Felicia left me as well once she said that one sentence. I am starting to get a little pissed at how no one explains anything in this family. I pick up my bags and head to a nearby room. It is the only one the two ladies didn’t enter so I can only assume it leads to my room. When I open the door a pleasant sight greets me. A high-tech computer is set up on the opposite wall just waiting for me to begin pushing its buttons. Its three monitors are illuminating the room with their pale, fluorescent light. There is also a bed very well furnished bed off to the side of the room. Lavish is good word to describe the room I now have. Expensive carpeting covers the floor and the wall facing out into the city is completely made of glass giving me a great view and the room a modern look. I grab a change of clothes and head off to bed. It’s been a long day and I need some sleep. While changing I can’t help but notice the new scar that adorns my body. If I continue like this I may end up becoming one big scar. I may get a cool nickname out of it though. My thoughts slowly drift away as I enter a deep sleep.

The next morning I wake up promptly at four forty-five and await my new teacher in the main room of the apartment. She somehow shows up precisely at five and the lesson begins. I got shot. It hurt just as much as it did yesterday. I’m not even sure why she felt the need to do it again. I do seem to be healing even faster now than I did the night before though.

“You may have noticed already, but the more you are forced to use your ability the stronger it becomes. Never think that you are invincible or that you are the only one. There are others with powers just like you and I, some are more frightening than you could ever imagine.” While she was talking she conjures a flame right above her outstretched palm. I watch as she manipulates it into a variety of shapes and poses before she suddenly fires it at me. I knew this would happen. I quickly dodge to the side only to feel a searing pain in my left arm. Her flame expanded as soon as it passed me by. This was my first experience with being burned. I think I prefer being shot.

The rest of the day consisted of me being killed and mutilated in a variety of ways. Alicia was kind enough to throw in a bit of clarifying information in between the torturous behavior. We are what’s known as the Machtbefugnis. It is German for power, or that is the best way to describe it. I’m just going to call them M’s. Just because a word is foreign does not mean it suddenly becomes more sophisticated. Whatever asshat came up with that name needs to grow the hell up.

Every power imaginable is one an M can possess, but every M can only have one power. I guess that makes mine regeneration. Alicia’s is obviously controlling fire or possibly becoming fire. Both are plausible options. I guess this means my parents each have a power as well. It’s great that my family shares so much with me. We are a very tight knit group.

Each country has a multiple M’s working for them. These secret task forces will be our main enemy when we actually begin conducting business. I can’t wait. My life has finally become exciting once more. Suburban life just isn’t for me. I begin to settle in for some torture from a beautiful girl.

A month has gone by and I can now take thirty bullets in the chest without being fazed. It is not that I don’t feel that pain, I have just become accustomed to it. If a person is placed in an environment for so long, what they experience there will become expected and normal. This concept is prospectively simple, but many times more difficult to explain. Imagine we were all born in the Christian’s version of hell. They believe that in there version of hell, one will be tortured for all eternity. The only issue is that if someone only experiences torture than that will be what they consider their normal life. A person can become accustomed to even the worst of situations if they experience the situation long enough.

On a smaller scale, that is what has happened to me. I register the pain, but I view it as one might view a paper cut. It is inconsequential and only a small nuisance I can easily overcome. It also helps that my regeneration has reached a frightening level. The second I am shot I heal. It is instantaneous. I wonder if I can still age? Being immortal would allow for me to worry a lot less about the situations I find myself caught up in. I still need to worry about other people with powers though. I am not sure how strong they may be or what they might be able to do to me.

I turn around to find my mother standing behind me. She has obviously been waiting for me to notice her.

“We will now begin our first mission. Our plane leaves in two hours. Follow me.” Mother has such a way with words. I am simply overwhelmed with how verbose she becomes when talking with me.

I slowly follow along wearing my new outfit. I chose to go with a more sophisticated look for my new job. I am wearing an Armani suit. It wasn’t cheap. Normally I would go with a simple t-shirt and shorts, but I need something that can cover all the new scars I have acquired over the past month with Alicia. She likes to play rough. I like to imagine I cut quite an image wearing such a suit, but I am not the best judge when it comes to personal beauty or fashion. Honestly this outfit idea was created by Alicia. I had nothing to do with it.

As we reach the airport and enter the private jet my mother owns. I finally ask where we are heading. The reply was surprising.

“Afghanistan”