Static

INTRODUCTION AND CHAPTER ONE

There is no signal to begin the fight. You just go once you feel your blood has been entirely replaced by the steaming power that comes from the fowl thing that cursed my DNA 3 years ago.

I strike first, holding my hands out in front of me and lunging forward as is if I was trying to push over some imaginary shelf that was too heavy to shove over with just my arms, like I needed my whole body to get it to tip.

But nothing falls because there's nothing there to push. So my power goes into something else, it goes into my curse. The train in my stomach trudges on faster and and faster. It speeds up my torso and into my arms, welling up in my palms until the pressure becomes to great to bare so it flings itself towards Flea. My power, it comes in a hideous form. It comes as electricity. Mini lighting bolts shooting out of my palms at Flea. Thats what cursed me, electricity, static, the stuff most of us depend on to live ruined my life and turned it into something foreign, something that boils down to just scary.

The charged bolts of purple and hot glowing white jet out of my palms, releasing the pressure that was pushing so unbearably hard against my skin. There is no greater relief than when it leaves.

The force of it knocks Flea down and the shock holds her there for a while but she scrambles back up to her feet. If Flea wasn't cursed, she'd be lying dead on the floor right now. The monitors had told us the day they brought us in that we aren't effected by each other's powers as much as regular old people are. No one really knows why, well, actually, I'm sure they do but they refuse to tell us for some reason that is beyond me. In a real fight I would've kept the electricity flowing until I had come out the victor. But this was not a real fight, it was a practice one, a sparring match. So I held myself back and allowed Flea to make the next move.

Like I said, everyone's curse is different, they may have similar qualities but no two are exactly alike. Flea had something in her blood, something that was as hot as fire and as desperate to escape as we all were from this zone.
I could see the agony on her face as it contorted and twisted into a definite look of pain.

And then she snapped. The air in the room rushed in to greet me like a stampede, it knocked me off my feet and sent me skidding on the ground until my body connected with the wall and my head snapped back from the impact.
Flea could manipulate air-wind- make it swirl into tornadoes and create wind storms that could lay a major city flat in seconds. I could tell she was holding back when she sent the blast my way.

I rubbed my neck now that I was standing again and held my left hand high and waved it back and forth until Flea got the message that the fight was over and I'd surrendered. It wasn't that I was to weak to continue, I could've won if I kept fighting, like I usually do everyday when we spar, but I wanted to boost Flea's confidence so I let her win now and then.

Now that the electricity in my veins had subsided for the most part, the bodies of the people around me came into view again, appearing as if out of no where only they'd been there all along.

They were emerged in matches of their own, totally oblivious to each other, distracted by the heat of battle.
I clapped Flea on the back.
"Well, I'd say you got the best of me this time, girlie." I kept my voice low when I spoke and my head tilted down so that the attention of the Monitors would not be attracted to us.
"You let me win." She said her voice somewhat shaky, "you surrendered, you could've beat me." I don't deny it because I know that Flea is too smart for her own good.

I let my eyes wander, sweeping the girls battling around us. One girl has shape shifted into an alligator and is snapping its jaws at another girl who's managed to divide into three more of herself to take on the gator. Theres another girl who looks like she some how turned herself to solid metal and is landing punch after punch on a girl who's skin is now soft and squishy like jello, as she takes the hits without staggering. Theres so much commotion in the training room that the monitors are too distracted to notice that Flea and I are taking a break and risking a brief chat. Flea takes a step closer to me and lowers her voice ever so slightly even though the noise in the room would be enough to drown out whatever it is she has to say before it reached unfriendly ears.