Initium

Lessons ~ Mr Garello

Drake didn't get any decent sleep after that one night. It was a week from now, but every night since then he had the same dream, the same nightmare. He had done nothing in terms of progress. He roamed the halls, talking to no one. Today he would start his day by being told that he could control his ''gift'' by one of the random superiors in a pointless meeting. He had had one the first day he arrived, then a very similar one two days afterwards, making him assume the same of today. And he was on the edge of just leaving headquarters and finding his way back from America.

Miss Way rang the bell on his door. There was no reply, as always, so she entered to find that he was out of bed and sitting, waiting for her. She was his patrol officer and was therefore the one who would take him to and from meetings and missions. And she would be the one to suffer if he did escape, but she highly doubted that would happen. Anceline had been here most of her life and knew how to handle these situations.

'What?'

'I'm here to escort you to your ten o'clock meeting with Mr Garello. He will be waiting for you.'

Drake sighed and made his way out of the room, following her down the green stairs and through the second floor hall to a room marked 'Lessons'. Whatever that meant. Drake was still adamant at this point that no one could tell him how to control his curse. All he had heard was people telling him that he could control it, never how. What he was supposed to do in here, he had no idea.

They went in to find nothing but a chair and a man sitting on it. The room itself was big and empty, however the green walls and black floor made it seem so much smaller. Miss Way left and shut the door behind her leaving Drake and Mr Garello alone.

Mr Garello was small and skinny. He was a strange looking man with four fingers on one hand and a scar across his left eye, rendering him half-blind. His feet were of uneven proportions and his hair an unnatural greenish gray. He didn't look old; just tired and worn out. Like he'd been in some sort of never-ending war. He stood and walked the short distance separating them. Drake couldn't help but think wow, he's small.

He went to shake hands, 'Drake Wilde, is it?'

'Yes.' Wilde was the second name he had chosen. It was his stepbrother's last name. And he didn't shake the man's hand.

'Right, well, I presume you know why you're here, so I'm not going to get into that right now. You're probably fed up; I know how persistent and repetitive some of the quacks can be in here, right? Knowing this, you've probably heard the same thing a hundred times over.' Drake didn't know what to say. It's like he's the only real person in this robot warehouse. Drake let a smile escape his mouth. He'd been waiting for someone who wasn't programmed for a while now. Mr Garlello mirrored his expression. 'That's better! No one should go too long without a smile. Please, sit.'

Drake took the seat facing the door the man had occupied at his arrival. It was small but he didn't mind. Mr Garello stood facing him and continued, 'Now, as you know, most of the people here have been treating you like your the same as everyone else in this dump. I don't agree. I feel that we don't deserve to be categorised and stacked like plastic chairs. We're all different people with different abilities, some of us just happen to have more... extra-ordinary abilities.' He didn't pronounce it as extraordinary as most of us would, because he meant it as 'extra' ordinary. 'I don't know what your ability is yet, Drake. I haven't touched the piece of paper they gave me explaining it except for your name because I want you to do so.'

'Well... em.' He hadn't expected this, but he loved the way that the man felt exactly the way he felt. Like he really was the only human in this place. 'I can, well, kill people. Basically, erm...' He chocked. He had never talked about it before, to anyone, never mind someone he just met. 'I'm sorry but, er, I'm not very comfortable talking about it. Basically, when I touch someone near their heart, it just... stops.'

'Well, I'm here to help you control the worst of it and, hopefully, discover what you can do best. I know you're sceptical but you're not the first I've been able to teach.' A woman in green came in with a basket of animals. 'Thank you.' She nodded and left them. 'These are your test subjects.'

'Are they dead?'

'No, simply sedated. I didn't order them but I presume the idea is that having live animals means that we know when they're dead. Now, I hope you aren't squeamish.'

'No, I used hunt animals.'

'Good, you should know what you're doing then.' He walked over to the basket and pulled out a ferret. It stank but Drake didn't mind; he'd seen much worse. Mr Garello lay it on the floor in front of Drake and they both kneeled next to it. 'I think we should start with a simple demonstration. Go ahead.' Drake touched it's chest and felt it's heart stop. Mr Garello checked it's pulse. He was silent for many seconds. 'Right. Again.'

They went on like this for an hour and a half, ordeing more animals to be brought in, Drake feeling the heart stop at his touch, always questioning the man's methods. Eventually, after 17 baskets of dead rodents, he started to feel tired. Once again, a squirl lay in front of him. He touched it... but felt nothing. It was still alive. He tried again but nothing. He looked up to a smiling face.

'You see? You're tired.'

'Wh... I'm confused. If I'm... if I'm tired, I can't stop it's heart?'

'Precicely. It takes a lot of energy to stop a heart, Drake. It's hard work that you can't do when your exhausted.'

It was amazing, extraordinary. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't kill it. Just amazing...

Three hours passed. Drake ran in circles. Through the hall; up the stairs; round the rooms; down the stairs; through the hall. He brought himself back to the room where Mr Garello was waiting for him with a deer. This animal wasn't sedated but on a leash. It was struggling to break free.

'Are you sure... this will... work?' Drake asked between panting.

'Possitive.' Drake walked up to the deer, lay it down on the ground and placed his hand above it's heart. He let go and the deer ran from his grasp and collapsed to the floor. Mr Garello checked it's pulse.

'It's damaged but... alive.'

***

Drake lay on his bed over the covers, staring at the picture on the ceiling. It was from the newspaper clipping of Jessica Farell. He had stolen it on the fourth day of his visit. 'I'm getting there, Jess. Slowely, but I'm getting there.' His hard work wasn't over yet, though, he had no idea of what was to come...