Content

The Birth of a Boy They Called Talon

The rain and wind battered down on the young nurse, but she had to keep going. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed as the baby in her arms wailed. Gotta keep moving...can't let them hurt him...gotta move faster...not safe...gotta keep him safe,

was what she kept repeating to herself like a mantra.

"Give him to me! He's MINE!" the baby's mother snarled. She sounded so close; how did she get so close?! The nurse ran harder and faster, her fear propelling her to a new speed. To her left, something growled in the alley. The child's father, no doubt.

"Give. Me. My. Son," he said, deadly calm as he appeared in front of her. She shrieked, the lightning illuminating the blood he was covered in. The doctor's blood. The doctor who'd given the nurse the baby and told her to run. The brother that raised her who was probably now dead. Was this boy really worth it? What did my brother see in him that was so special?

she wondered bitterly. As she considered this, both parents were closing in slowly.

"Get in!" a teenage boy cried, swinging out of a van that hadn't completely stopped yet. While he held off the furious couple, another boy shoved the nurse into the vehicle. After both jumped back in, the van peeled away. The child's mother leaped onto the van's hood, while her husband clung to the windshield. The baby wailed louder as the driver swerved hard, sending the attackers sailing away.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" the nurse cried. Her eyes darted from face to face, settling on a bloody body curled into a ball. She squinted and gasped when she recognized the man's mauled face. She shoved the little baby into the closest boy's arms. She clasped the man's bloody, slick hand. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

"Is he...is he okay? Can I...see...him?" he rasped after clearing his throat.

"Oh, Davey. I thought you were dead!" she sobbed. "Why do you even care about this kid? He almost cost you your life!"

"He's very important and powerful," the first boy answered and then added after seeing her doubtful expression, "Well, he will be when he's older."

"See that?" the second boy asked, turning the baby and holding him up. He pulled the soggy blue blanket wrapped around the baby down until they could see his back. Across his tiny shoulders was a strange Celtic tattoo that swirled in unique patterns. The baby whimpered again, his little body shaking.

"What...is he?" she asked softly, staring at the child's back. He'd looked like any normal baby to her, but of course she couldn't see his back while he was wrapped in the blanket. Her grip on her brother's hand tightened.

"We don't actually know yet. We just know he's special," boy one answered uncertainly.

"Hey, don't leave me out of this conversation! My names Laurie. You two! Where are your manners? Introduce yourselves!" the girl driving called back. The two boys shot annoyed looks at Laurie.

"I'm Darren," the first boy grumbled.

"John," the second said just loud enough to be heard over the still shrieking child.

"I-I'm Rashel, and that's my brother, David," the nurse stammers. "Here, why don't you give him to me?" She held her arms out, John handing her the baby gratefully.

"So, does it have a name?" Laurie asks conversationally.

"It's a him," Rashel snaps, scowling. She cradles the boy and rocks him gently.

"Sorry. What's his name?" Laurie says tentatively.

"He doesn't have one. His parents weren't going to let him live, so they didn't bother naming him," David rasps.

"So...what do we call him then?" Darren glances over curiously at the now calm, gurgling baby boy in Rashel's arms. No one says anything for a while.

"Talon," David says suddenly. The van pulls up in front of a big, warehouse type building with a red hospital cross painted on the door. Everyone turns to look at him questioningly.

"What?" John finally asks.

"His name. I think we should call him Talon," David answers. Rashel nods as David is pulled out of the van onto a gurney.

"I'll take care of him if that's okay," she says in a questioning tone. Laurie nods. "Talon Cutter. I like the sound of that."

"Cutter? Our last name is Cross. Wait...John? He...?" David's eyes widen, looking completely baffled. Rashel nodded with a grin as David was rolled away.

15 Years Later...

"Mom? What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, confused. She looks so...scared. Of me. Why? I look around at the shattered glass on the floor.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean...I didn't even notice..." I apologize, kneeling and scooping up glass hurriedly. I must have knocked something over while we argued without realizing it.
I froze when I touched flowers and water. How had I knocked the vase down? It was far behind me on a little table. Mom gasps, coming out of her dazed shock.

"Talon! You're bleeding; get away from there!" she says, scurrying to get the first aid kit and a broom. I just sit there and stare. How had this happened? A weird...knowing feeling washes over me.

"Did I do that?" I whisper, looking to mom for conformation.

"No! Don't be ridiculious. It just fell," she answers in a nervous rush. I nod uncertainly and take the kit from her hands. I shuffle to the bathroom to bandage the deep gash I hadn't noticed and stare at my reflection. I look basically the same, but I feel so different. My messy black hair brushes the top of my eyelids like always, my eyes are the same black, my skin is maybe a little paler, but my face looks...cold. Emotionless. My own reflection kind of scares me, but it doesn't show. What's wrong with me? I don't usually yell at mom, but I felt so angry. She always interrogates me if I'm home later than I say I'll be, but this time, it was different. Sure, sometimes I get a little annoyed, but I've never felt this kind of uncontrollable, violent rage towards my mother. I actually felt like I hated her.

"Talon, you're daydreaming again. Here, let me help you," mom says from the doorway. I jump at the sound of her voice, unaware of how long she's been standing there. As she tends to my hand, I watch her silently. I didn't hate her now. Maybe I'm making too big a deal out of this. Teenagers are supposed to feel like this sometimes, aren't they? Yeah, yeah they are. I smile, feeling like myself again. Or at least I thought so; I failed to see the evil look my reflection wore, as did my distracted mom.

Private Conversations and Hushed Voices

"...something wrong with him! How can you not see that?" my mom says, her voice rising. I press my ear against their bedroom door. I'd been on my way the kitchen for a snack when I heard them arguing. About me.

"...be quiet? Do you...to hear you?" my dad hisses. "There's nothing...with him! It's just...imagination." I strain to hear, body pressed to the door, when something beyond weird happens. Suddenly, I can see their room, what they're doing, hear what they're saying so clearly. It's like I'm in the room, but they can't see me.

"John, I'm telling you! He broke that vase without touching it! You should have seen the look on his face when he was yelling at me. He looked so...evil. Like them. I think we should call David."

"Do we have to drag your brother into every little incident that turns out to be nothing? He's not them. He never will be. Just calm down."

"I'm calling him, and I'm not changing my mind. How can we ever know for sure? What if he tries to kill us in our sleep or something? Then what? It's just my imagination?"

"Kill us in our sleep? Would you listen to yourself? Talon's only fifteen; he's still a child for God's sake! He loves us, and we love him, remember? Or is he some disgusting abomination that we should just slaughter?" My heartbeat seems to roar louder and louder in my ears when I see the contemplation on my mom's face. She was considering murdering me?! Just what was going on here?

"My God, Rashel. How can you even think about...murdering our only son. I can't even look at you right now," dad growls, giving her a disgusted look. He snatches his jacket off the chair in the corner where he threw it when he came home.

"John? Where are you going? I didn't mean it!" she cries. I back away as fast as I can, scrambling into the shadows before dad opens the door. The weird sight I had before is gone, but I don't need it now that the door is wide open and my parents are screaming. I cover my ears because I just can't stand it.

"Somewhere safe, and I'm taking Talon with me until you get these crazy thoughts out of your head," he shouts. Where am I going?

"John, please don't go! I'm sorry!" mom sobs. It's all my fault. They're fighting and mom's crying and it's all my fault.

"Talon! Talon, pack a suitcase! We're going on a little trip, just the two of us!" dad yells as loud as he can, his hands cupping his mouth. He probably hasn't seen me yet, otherwise he wouldn't have to do that.

I slide my back down the wall until I'm sitting, pressing my hands painfully against my ears, while mom's desperate pleading and sobbing breaks my heart. Mom and Dad freeze and look at me with horrified bewilderment. I shut my eyes and begin to rock back and forth, humming loudly. If I can't hear them or see them, nothing ever happened. We're a happy family and my parents love each other and my mom doesn't want to kill me and my dad's not leaving and...and...

"Talon, have you been there the whole time?"

"Are you okay?"

"Talon?"

"Talon?"

"Talon answer me!"

"Talon, pack your things! We're leaving!"

"Talon!"

"TALON!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Leave me alone! Just shut up!" I shriek, rocking faster, my nails piercing the skin on the sides of my head. When I open my eyes, the last things I see are the terrified looks on my parents' faces when they see the whispering shadows swirling around the hall. Then...nothing.

Uncle David

I'm tired. So tired. Where am I? What happened? Images flash through my mind, but there are too many gaps for me to really understand anything. Someone sits down on the bed I'm apparently occupying.

"When do you think he'll wake up?" mom whispers.

"How long has he been out?" a voice I don't recognize asks.

"He's been this way since Rashel called you two days ago, so I'm guessing about two days," dad snaps, sounding extremely annoyed by the man's presence. I pry my eyes open little by little so they won't notice but also because it feels like someone glued them shut.

"I'd have been here sooner, but I don't exactly live next door," the man answers flatly. "Did you use it on him yet, Rashel?"

"Yeah, but we won't know for sure if it worked right until he wakes up." Used what on me? What aren't they sure worked? What's going on?

"Hey, I think he's awake," dad cries happily. Then, "David, wait! Your mask!" The man leans over me, his forehead inches from mine, and I'm horrified by what I see. The left side of the man's face has fat, ugly, purplish scars that are raised and shiny. His left eye is a freaky, dead-looking milky blue, scars tearing through the left side of his lips. His neck has thin angry, blood-red scars that seem to throb with every breath he takes. I suddenly become aware that I'm being held down...and I'm screaming my head off. Dad pulls me into a crushing bear-hug, my back against his chest. I thrash wildly as Scarface tries to inject me with something that'll probably make me go to sleep. I don't want to sleep. Not with him here.

"Talon, calm down! He's not going to hurt you," mom shouts, grabbing my hand. I relax slightly but still refuse to be drugged into sleep, which I now fear for some reason that has nothing to do with the freak trying to stab me. Scarface finally just holds his hands up in surrender and places the unused needle on a shiny, mahogany nightstand.

"Let go!" I scream, finally finding my voice. Dad suddenly falls backward, releasing me but not before his weight drags me with him. It's like I'm watching in slow-motion as I fall, another nightstand on the left side of the bed hurtling towards my face at an alarming rate. There's a loud, sickening crack, and my head snaps back painfully. My mom's screams are just a distant buzz in my ears as something warm flows into my eyes from an unknown source. I try, unsuccessfully, to sit up and discover I can't move at all. My forehead's throbbing and there's a searing pain creeping from my neck down to my spine. Everything starts to go hazy, but I refuse to give in to the pain; I fight desperately to stay awake, watching everyone frantically arguing over something. Me? Not important right now. Can't fall asleep. Stay awake! Stay...awake. Stay...s-stay...

"-something! People can die from a broken neck!" mom shrieks, the world spinning harshly into focus.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" dad answers bitterly, his hand raking through my tangled hair.

"Both of you! Shut up! Fighting over something so stupid won't keep him alive. We have no choice but to take him to a regular hospital; he can't find out about the Institute yet," Scarface growls. My parents glare at each other for a moment but listen. The Institute? What are they talking about?

"What's the Institute? And who's he?" I ask before I can stop myself. I sit up and stare at the creep, the unbearable pain I'd had before suddenly gone. Their jaws practically fall to the floor, their eyes like huge saucers.

"Talon...you hit your head pretty hard. Are you...okay?" mom asks with a look on her face that I don't really understand. I touch my bleeding forehead absently.

"It doesn't hurt that much. Just a scratch really. So, who's he?"

"Um...well-"

"You don't remember me?" Scarface interrupts, continuing when I shake my head. "I'm your Uncle David."

Confusion

"You're my uncle? My parents never mentioned any relatives," I said in a daze.

"Yeah, I'm your uncle, and it doesn't matter what your parents didn't tell you. Now you know."

"Why are you here?"

"Well, you're quite blunt, aren't you?"

"Answer my question."

"Alright, alright. I just thought I'd stop by to visit my nephew."

I glared at him in silence, looking from my mom to my dad slowly. There it was again; that uncontrollable anger began to bubble up inside me.

"Talon?" mom squeeked, her eyes filled with terror. The room had gotten cold enough to see her trembling breath.

"Talon, stop it," Uncle David growled. "Control yourself."

"Leave him alone, David. It's your fault he's upset," dad hissed, rushing to my side.

"You wanted to kill me," I said, emotionless. "Why? What am I?"

The lights flickered as the room shuddered, anger and resentment coursing through my veins as if I were immersed in ice water. Painful, yet invigorating.

"Stop it," David warned. "You have to stop before it reaches your heart. That feeling you're getting right now, it's bad."

I stood unsteadily and took a step towards my uncle, the ground beneath me freezing over. Once David put his hand up, I couldn't go any further. It was as if something were holding me back.

"Calm down," he said softly, pulling the syringe out from behind his back.

"Don't you dare!" dad came up beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. Just like that, the anger was gone, and I sank to my knees, suddenly exhausted.

Not Their Son

Mom and David had stepped out, but I could hear them as clear as if they were right beside me.

"That's not the child I raised!" mom sobbed. "Is he even human anymore?"

"Rashel, you knew what you were getting into when you and Alex took him in."

Took me in? Tears filled my eyes as I stood and swung open the door. Mom looked at me, startled; David seemed to know I'd heard, his face grim.

"Talon-" she started, reaching for my hand. I yanked it away and ran impossibly fast. It seemed unnatural to be running at this speed.

Imprint

Dedication:
To Gina, my little sister and main supporter.

Page 1 /