We Exist

Best friends

This scene will happen about midway through the actual story. I'm just putting this bit up to get a general opinion from you guys about it to see if I should change anything.

The knife popped into my third and final assailant’s back. He shouted in agony and blacked out, his life blood flowing away across the wooden floor where his spine had been severed. I raised myself off the floor and went into the back room of the dojo and grabbed a T-shirt, changing into it and discarding the blood-splattered one. I grouped the bodies together and took them to the Alps in Switzerland and left them to nature’s mercy. Considering they were dead I doubted they’d give a crap. I went back to the dojo and cleaned up the mess with a mop I found in a farmhouse kitchen in England. I breathed in the fresh clean air of the Japanese hilltops. I teleported to my personal weapon’s room in my homeland, England. Well, half my homeland. The other half was Ireland, my more recent home. I had a mixture of accents but the main one was Irish; the rest couldn’t really be picked out by novice ears apart from English. But I was born in England. Anyway I placed the pistol and samurai swords in holsters that I borrowed from a little Chinese shop. I strapped the knife into my holster and flipped out my phone as I teleported to a toilet in a classy restaurant in Paris. I picked the contact out of the list while I sat down at the table and picked up the menu. I pressed the green button on the phone and waited patiently for the contact to realise who it was. She picked up on the fourth ring, quicker than usual. “How are you Cadan?” the crackly female voice said over the phone, “run into any trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I said, subconsciously brushing the spotless table to get rid of the imaginary dirt. “You?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she replied and I knew that she was sitting there, smiling. Wherever she was.

“Any news on Jarek?”

“None so far other than there was a sighting of a teen aged boy setting fire to a small

 building. The local authorities wrongly guessed it to be a teenaged arsonist. That was three weeks ago in Mexico in El Chupacabra.” I could feel the shrug of indifference over the phone.

“Well, I think we’ve given our trackers just enough time to begin to look at my location. About thirty seconds left-ish. So, I’ll be in contact.” And I hung up the phone. Of course, I could’ve been wrong. They could’ve easily tracked onto me, but at that time I was so tired and I just wanted a decent meal. “Bonsoir monsieur, puis-je prendre votre commande?” the waiter said to me. I scanned my memory of the French language. I think he meant may I take your order.

“Oui, j’aimerais que les Chateaubriand Deux Personnes,” I said in a fluent French accent. The waiter nodded, asked if there was anything else and I told him red wine. He turned around and briskly pushed open the doors to the hectic kitchen. I drummed my fingers on the table as I waited for my meal. I think now as we’re waiting for my meal I suppose I’ve got time to give you a back story. My name is Cadan Franklin. The guy I was looking for, my brother, Jarek Franklin. Our parents died when we were like ten. That’s when we noticed we had gifts. We’re not sure what to call them, magic, powers, we just don’t know. I can teleport and we both have an ability to heal quicker than most humans can. But Jarek was different. When we hit puberty our main powers activated. We’d always had healing but at thirteen years of age I could teleport. However, Jarek’s powers manifested differently to mine. More violently. He could control fire and worst he could create fire. We were both sort of fugitives at the time and we knew we were different to others so we didn’t go to any child shelters or anything. He started going on a rampage, killing people and then when the authorities came we teleported away. I teleported him away. But I finally drew the line and he turned his power against me, something we swore we would never do. After a brief battle he ran off. Now you may be thinking how can a fire controller lose a teleporter? Well, I can only teleport to places I’ve been or can see. So when he rounded a corner and whooshed off, I couldn’t find him. I’ve been searching for him ever since, as have a secret corporation known as the P.N.A agency or ParaNormal Activity agency. They’re also searching for me, hence the dojo battle. My recap ended abruptly as someone sat down in the chair opposite me. Thick arms popped out from the cover of the menu but the face was determined to stay where it was. “Hello, brother,” a thick grumbly voice growled from behind the menu. “So nice to see you. Was that your girlfriend?”