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?”
“Don’t make a scene.”
“Oh, I’m sorry brother, I’ve made too many of those to care anymore,” he replied, that annoying half smile of carelessness spreading across his face in my mind’s eye. Quick as a whip I drew my knife and shoved it through the back of his hand which was palm down on the table. He roared in pain but he was shouting to the cold night air of Mount Everest. We were both under dressed and being normal human beings we would have frozen solid. But as it was we felt a slight chill as our body temperatures rose to the challenge. I jumped back a few paces and watched my breath steam from my mouth. I cursed as I realised my mistake, teleported back by Jarek’s side, ripped the knife from his hand and teleported away again. He swore at me and summoned flames around his hands, and watched as they snuffed out. He tried again. That satisfying hiss as his powers failed to conjure anything better than a burst of flames around his hands for five seconds. I smiled at him and teleported behind him and kicked him in the back sending him sprawling forwards. I teleported in front of him and sent an upper cut to his chin. He flipped backwards from the force of the blow. He staggered to his feet and spat blood from his mouth. I flashed behind him again but he anticipated the move and dodged my jab while grabbing my arm. He twisted it so my biceps were facing the sky, manoeuvred it so it was over his shoulder and bent forward. I roared in agony as my arm snapped at the elbow. He continued his forward movement and thrust his foot into my solar plexus, driving all air from my lungs. I doubled over and he sent a knee into my face. I landed on my back, wheezing as I watched him jump off the side of the mountain, pressing a button on a wrist watch I’d never noticed before. I teleported just below where his jump was taking him and slashed his left leg. Considering below his current trajectory was still in the air we both tumbled. My legs folded as I hit the snow while Jarek’s face crunched into the snow and he scrambled up. He leapt off the mountain face. And grabbed onto the landing gear of a fully armed attack helicopter just rising from the mountain side, whose noise I had been unable to recognise with the incredible pain. He clambered through the side door and the pilot flipped open a little cap on a joystick to reveal a red button. In my experiencesa red button usually equals bad. I briefly wondered how the helicopter had come to be here but I had other things to worry about. I swept my by now fully repaired arms backward and threw them forward and in a blink I was clutching onto the rail that Jarek was moments ago. The rockets flew from the wings of the helicopter, narrowly avoiding me. I pulled the door open and began to clamber inside scanning the insides for Jarek. Then a flaming foot stamped on my hand and I screamed. Jarek lifted it up for a second stamp but I used the moment to teleport behind him and shove him out the door. He caught it as he flew out and swung round to hit the side. Using his foot he pushed off the door and swung back round, using the momentum to punch me in face. I was thrown against some monitors and he was on me. He brought flames to his hands and brought them closer. The heat became unbearable all too quickly so I teleported to the door and he dropped, grabbing onto the edge as he hung out to empty space. My own boot pressed down on his hands. Then I heard footsteps coming unnaturally quickly behind me. I turned just in time to see a mouth open with fangs and claws ready to tear. I dodged out of the way, just avoiding the claws that tried to rake my face. Jarek hauled himself up while the other guy stared at me. “You see Cadan; we ain’t the only special ones. This here’s a vampire. I know right? He looks pretty normal usually but this is sort of his battle mode if you will. And guess what, they’re a lot like the Twilight vampires…” at this the vampire growled. “Well not as gay. They don’t have any reaction to sunlight, garlic. Stakes kill ‘em though but any sharp object to the heart or brain will. They can run faster and are stronger. They also like our blood a lot. Now obviously he hasn’t noshed on me so I said that he could kill you instead. So, without further ado, maul away,” Jarek said and gestured towards me. It charged again and I teleported behind it aiming a punch at its head. But it spun round and caught my arm, attempting to bite it. I teleported to the door again and it held on, but before I could stamp it out it flipped back up and kicked me in the face. I was sent back a couple steps and blocked and dodged two of the next hits successfully and got punched in the stomach by the third. The fourth hit smacked me in the side of the head and I flew to the edge of the copter. I heard the footsteps slowly coming for me and felt around me for something. What was that? A mug. I grasped it without the vampire seeing and realised what good it would do. Then I saw the red button. Red buttons were usually bad; but only for whatever was on the receiving end. Just as it was about to flay me I threw the mug at the button and the bay door dropped just as I teleported. The vampire dropped with them and started to slide down, however just as it was about to fall it dug its claws into the metal and began to climb back up the ramp. I teleported back to the button. “Good to know we’re not the only freak show in the world,” I said and slammed my hand on the button. The doors slowly closed and chopped the vampire in half. I opened the door again and the still moving top half slid out the helicopter. I turned around and got a boot in the chest and fell out. I fell at incredible high speeds and couldn’t picture the helicopter to teleport back to. So I just pictured Paris. I crashed on a wet floor sign and rolled onto the floor. I walked out of the door and re-took my seat. Just as I did so, the waiter appeared with my meal.
* * *
I wiped off the blood and bits of food around my mouth. I got up but didn’t leave. Walking past an upper-class French woman who looked like she scowled at her husband no matter how nice he was, I slipped my hand into her jacket pocket and produced her purse. Swiftly pulling out enough money for the meal and a hefty tip, I slipped her purse back in without a single soul noticing. Sometimes you’ve got to learn about other hidden ‘talents’ to get by, fair enough not always legally but generously. Feeling like Robin Hood I walked back out into the Parisian air. I briefly reflected on the encounter. Only an hour ago I hadn’t known vampires existed and now one was chopped in half and dead somewhere in the middle of nowhere in a cold wasteland. My phone rang.
“I’m just in the car,” said a cheery voice , “to your left. Black limo, can’t miss it. See you in a bit.” The man said in French.
“I’m sorry sir, but you seem to have the wrong number,” I said, spotting the limo he was referring to. I looked in the crowd for a confused tourist.
“No, no, this is the right number. Please step into the car Mister Franklin,” the man said with calm reassurance. “Oh and if you try to escape, everyone will know of your little secret. And, no I don’t mean the bed-wetting,” he said with a chuckle. The phone went dead. Who on Earth is this man, I thought, putting my phone away and heading for the door of the limo. The passenger seat opened as I neared and a fat but strong man sat on the left of the long seat. He had rectangular glasses, tinted it seemed, with a handlebar moustache and a goatee. He wore an expensive suit and matching trousers and was wearing a Rolex watch. I sat down and the door closed behind me. Then the man was on me, a rag in his left hand. The man was surprisingly strong, inhumanly so almost. He pressed it into my face as I breathed in. Chloroform. I regarded him with heavy lids and pushed him back. I sighed and said ‘You should know that doesn’t work on me.’
“Yes, I was rather hoping a quadruple dose would’ve done the trick. No matter, this will,” he said and his fist rocked my head back and the world went black.
* * *
I came to strapped to a chair in the middle of a room, a bright light shining above me. I could feel something atop my head but couldn’t tell what it was.
“A sonic wave disruptor, my good man,” a voice called out from the darkness, asking my apparently unvoiced question. He sounded English and rich. Snooty rich, I hated those people. “Oh, it was voiced alright,” the English man said again. I wondered if I’d spoken aloud but the English man answered that question too, “No sir, you did not. My name is Michael Corman and I can read your mind.”
“What are you talking about, it’s too early in the morning for this.”
“Actually it’s coming up 11pm.” Suddenly I realised where I was and how I came to be here. Forgetting about my fat kidnappers warning I teleported to the dojo. At least that’s where I expected to find myself, but before I completed the thought it was scrambled and I stayed right where I was. For the first time since I’d had my powers I truly panicked. Franticly I tried to shake the thing on my head off but to no avail. Then the telepath entered my mind. I could feel him probing around in there and he delved deep into my subconciousness bringing me under with him. I floated behind his disembodied form until I reached a KEEP OUT sign in my mind. All of a sudden I was back out and felt him going past the sign. Then, all of a sudden something like a sleeping lion woke within me. And I roared with my mind. FUCK OFF! I boomed and the telepath was thrown from my mind and hurtled back, smashing into a wall. I shook my head and realised the thing that was on my head had been thrown off. The telepath dusted himself off and came into the light. A bald black man with an expensive tailored suit stood before me, regarding me with deep blue eyes. He had a fairly big nose and his lips were thin, but not cruel or spiteful. His eyebrows were bushy and the left had a thick scar running down it, tugging at the corner of his eye slightly. I stared back with my icy cold blue ones. He physically shivered and said “remarkable,” and the look of horror spread across his face as he realised I could use my powers once again. I did indeed teleport, but not how he expected. I teleported out of the bonds to come behind him. I span him round and punched him as hard as I could in the face, teleporting the moment my fist connected with his considerably large nose. He was in free fall above the Pacific Ocean. My interrogation spot. “WHY DID YOU CAPTURE ME!” I roared in his face. Shocked he looked down, but a steely defiance flashed across his face. “TAKE ME BACK!” he shouted with his mind and all of a sudden he was in, tapping away at my controls. FUCK OFF! I roared again and he flew from my mind. I asked him again. “I SHALL NOT TELL YOU!” he shouted over the wind. I teleported away and watched from the sea’s surface him panicking in the air. I waited then teleported back. “READY TO TALK!” I asked again. “YES!” he practically screamed. I grabbed his neck and I teleported to the abandoned dojo. He crumpled to the floor in a heap and sucked in the air, clutching at the floor like a fish. I rolled him over to face me and jabbed his face. “Why did you capture me?” I asked again. He looked up at me with fearful eyes. “I…I wanted to see what happened when I rummaged in your mind. That and I wanted to bring you in.” I released my hold on him and kicked him for good measure. Then he spoke again. “Wait, you’re not Jarek are you?”
“No, I’m fucking not!” I boomed stomping over to him.
“Oh my God. I apologize Cadan. You and your brother look so alike, my partner and I must’ve gotten you two mixed up. You see, we’d tracked him down to that restaurant.”
“Which is where we met. I teleported away and we fought. He got away.”
“So, that’s why. We thought you were Jarek, as you left the restaurant.”
“So what, you’re part of a hunting party for Jarek?” I asked, the cogs in my mind whirring.
“Yes. My friend, Morrice, and I, intensely dislike your brother. One would say hate.”
“Oh yeah? And why is that?”
“He killed my parents and my older and younger sibling. And don’t bother with awkward condolences, I don’t care for them.”
“Well, you’re welcome to join me,” I said, thinking how much easier it would be finding my brother if I had a telepath working for me and I guessed a super strong man to help me follow up on the leads he gathered.
“Yes, I suppose it would be mutually beneficial. And you’re write about Morrice, he is super strong.” But then, I realised, having a telepath around might be a pain in the arse.