Masks

by Amara Lynn

  I stopped at a department store. I hated places like this—they were just so busy—but it was a necessary evil. Grabbing a basket, I wove through couples and whining kids, ending up in the party section.

  Most of the things in the aisle were for kids' parties: rainbow-colored ponies, turtles wielding ninja weapons, transforming robots, princesses. Those types of things. A black eye mask caught my attention. The mask was simple, yet sleek, and would cover just enough to make people wonder who is that? Something like that would make an impact. I put the mask in my basket, then piled an assortment of other party favors in with it as a diversion.

  "Having a party?" the clerk asked as I was checking out.

  I smirked. "Yeah. A party." I guess it could be called that. There would be fireworks.

  I left the busy department store and ditched the other party favors in the trash can outside. Once I was out of plain sight, I pulled my shirt off and flew off again. Landing on a rooftop, I pulled out the black mask, looking over it again for a moment before slipping it on and combing back my messy black hair with my hands.

  *~*~*

  "Reports are coming in of a masked, black winged man terrorizing the North Bay area. Witnesses say the man-made balls of fire appear out of nowhere, hurling them at several parked cars and other surrounding structures. None were reported injured. Witness accounts failed to provide any detailed description of the man's face, only that he had dark hair and wings like a raven. Authorities are asking anyone with information on the perpetrator to call immediately. Who is this raven-winged arsonist, and will he strike again? More on this story as it develops."

  I grinned to myself as I watched the report from the student center. Just as I'd expected, people definitely remembered me—especially my wings. The student center was a bit crowded this evening, and many others were watching the news too, appalled and murmuring to themselves about this development.

  "Hey," someone said, and I looked up to see Chayton. "What're you..." he trailed off, glancing over at a TV screen that was recapping my story again. I glanced from the TV and back to him. His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white as he glared at the screen. "Who would so something so awful?"

  This was new. I was so used to that sweet smile of his. What had gotten into him? "I don't know," I said.

  "I hope they don't get away next time."

  What an odd thing to say. "You okay?" I asked. He still looked so upset, and it was dismaying to see to him like that. I decided I preferred his smile to his frown.

  "Yeah." When Chayton looked at me again, his features softened. "Sorry if I worried you," he said, smiling again, and it was like he had never been angry.

  "You didn't," I lied, forcing myself to look away from him. I was worried, but I doubted it was for the reason he thought. Mostly I was baffled. Normally, people didn't react to news like that with anger. The other people around us who had seen the story were shocked, frightened, that type of thing. But anger…

  So odd. So perplexing.

  There were definitely things about Chayton I had yet to learn, it seemed.

  chapter five

  There was a little voice in the back of my head, an angel on my shoulder that kept nagging at me, telling me, "You're playing a dangerous game." I knew that voice was right. At the same time, there was also a devil on my other shoulder saying, "Do that again."

  I'd never been one to follow status quo. I certainly didn't care about doing what everyone else was doing. Seeing those people's faces on the news, watching the footage of my handiwork… Doing that again was just too tempting not to. How could I just leave those people hanging? Surely they wanted to know more about the "raven-winged arsonist". Who was I to disappoint them by disappearing after just one sighting? Two, if you count the first guy who thought he was losing his mind.

  I think I made it about a week before I was just dying to get out again. College life was stressful, especially with a double major, and the ache to blow off some steam—or blow up some things, to be exact—was uncontrollable.

  As I flew through the sky, I debated what area to reign down fire upon today. I headed to a different area than my previous fireworks display, though still in the North Bay area. Eyeing a pretty little Prius, I summoned forth my fire and let loose on the poor thing. A nerdy looking hipster who was walking towards the car blanched at the sight of it going up in flames. Must have been their car.

  I flew around, lighting up a few more things with my fire, keeping myself on the move to avoid being tailed by the authorities.

  "Stop right there!" someone yelled, to my surprise from very close, as if they were up in the air with me, and not down below.

  I paused to look around for the mystery voice, and when I found the source, my eyes widened. There was another person in the air. With wings. This guy's wings, like mine, were an impressive sight to behold, only they were brown. He was dressed in a blue and yellow outfit, a kind of Captain America getup, with a mask that covered his head and face, all but his chiseled, tan chin. There was a yellow "F" on his chest framed by a pair of wings.

  Just when I thought I'd seen everything. I kind of wanted to laugh at his ridiculous getup. Another part of me was stunned and intrigued. Could he be like me, the same thing I was? I mean, how many people have wings?

  "Who are you?" I asked.

  "I'm Falcon, and I'm here to stop you!"

  Falcon, huh? Guess that's what the "F" stood for, then.

  I didn't have time to react. All I saw was a blur, then I heard a sudden wham as Falcon's fist connected with my jaw, sending me flying back. Damn he had a mean left hook, and he was fast. This was… unexpected.

  I recovered quickly from the blow, just in time to avoid his next one. "Why do you care what I do?" I said, dodging another punch and a kick, then getting unlucky and taking a punch to the gut.

  "What you're doing is wrong, and someone could get hurt. Come quietly and I won't hurt you."

  Come quietly? He just expected me to let him take me in? "I don't think so." I swung a fist back only to miss him. I was pretty fast, but so was he.

  I was strong, too—a lot stronger than a normal human—but brute force wasn't really my thing. There was something else that was more my taste: a little fire. No doubts about it, fire always made everything more interesting. I went on the defensive, managing to avoid his swings and put a bit more distance between us.

  "Give up!" Falcon said.

  "Let's see how you handle this!" I conjured up a ball of fire in each hand and hurled them both at Falcon. To my frustration, he avoided them. I growled and flung a couple more in his direction, then a couple more. Falcon sped around to avoid the onslaught, and most of them missed, but one hit. He flung his hands up to shield his head just in time, and the fire singed the arms of his suit instead.

  "Stop this!" He brushed the ash off and rushed at me. Evading, I sent a ball of fire at his back.

  Wailing sirens neared us. It seems Falcon had distracted me long enough for them to catch up with me.

  Suddenly, Falcon collided into me, pinning me on the ground beneath him. "It's over," he said.

  "I don't think so." No way was I getting caught. Not now, not ever. I grappled with him, but it was his strength against mine, and he had just the slightest upper hand. He pinned my wrists and held them in a death grip.

  I still had one ace up my sleeve though. I summoned my fire, heating my hands and wrists. Falcon winced and loosened his grip, and the second he did I broke out of his grasp, pushing him back and then swinging my fist at him as hard as I could.

  While he was stunned, I took off, flying as fast as I could and ducking into the first nook I could find. I removed the mask, stuffed it into my pocket, then pulled my shirt out and concealed my wings before pulling it on.

  As I slipped out onto the streets, I tried to look as natural and calm as possible, though I was pretty sure I was far enough away from the scene now that I didn't have to worry. I could barely even hear the sirens. My bo
dy smarted where Falcon's blows had connected, and I winced the first few steps. That had been a close one.

  The appearance of this Falcon character changed things. Who was this guy, anyways? Better yet, what was he? That was the real burning question.

  A TV caught my eye as I walked down the street. They were showing my fight with Falcon already. I paused and stared at the caption: Falcon Fights Back Against Raven.

  Raven, huh? The media had officially given me a name.

  Closed captioning scrolled by as the picture shrunk into the corner and a news reporter started talking.

  "Who is the arsonist Raven? Does he have any connection to Falcon? Will Raven strike again?"

  All very, very good questions. I personally was most curious about the second one.

  *~*~*

  After a good night's sleep, I went to the library on campus early the next morning. I had wanted to stop there when I got back last night, but I had my homework to worry about. Between homework and my fight with Falcon I was too exhausted to fit it in yesterday.

  I took a seat at one of the computers and started typing "Falcon superhero" on a search engine, getting a few results immediately from news sites in the area. I can't say I'd ever really followed the news, so I'd never heard of him. I skimmed through a few old headlines: Winged Hero Makes Appearance, Hero in the Bay Area, Falcon Thwarts Bank Robbery.

  I read through the first article. It detailed his debut appearance, which was less than a year ago. He'd saved a bus full of people from a freak accident on a bridge. A couple of the people who were interviewed commented on his friendly demeanor and of course his wings. One person said, "He's a guardian angel sent from above."

  The next article was shortly after that, after he'd stopped a car chase. And of course, the last one was pretty self-explanatory. Overall, I wouldn't say he'd done anything truly astounding. Mostly catching robbers, or saving elderly people and helpless animals in trees.

  There was nothing of course about who he really was, what he was, or why he was here. The media seemed content to embrace him as an upstanding hero, fighting for justice and the weak.

  Maybe I had it wrong, and I actually was dealing with comic book origin story stuff here, not celestial beings. Now the question, "Does he have any connection to Falcon?" made a whole lot of sense. How many other people had wings? What were the odds that a hero and a villain would emerge with such similarities? I had to know what the deal was with him. Maybe if I could figure out what he was, I would finally know what I was, too.

  There was only one way to find out. The reporter's last question came to my mind: Will Raven strike again?

  Yes, I think Raven would.

  "What're you up to, Avari?"

  I jerked and quickly closed the browser window. Luckily, Chayton had walked up in front of me and not behind me.

  "Nothing really, just a little research. I was about to leave." I stood up.

  "Oh. Wanna do something?"

  Suddenly my inner conflict about Chayton seemed so small in comparison to what else I was now dealing with. I shrugged. Whether Chayton followed me or not, I really didn't care. It came as no surprise though when he started walking with me.

  "Hey, how long before your next class? We could go get waffles."

  Waffles? Oh, that's right. He'd said that he liked waffles too, and that we should go get them together sometime. It had been a long time since I had waffles. Damn did they sound good. I could use something to get my mind off all this superhero nonsense, even if it was only temporarily. I may not be normal, but I could pretend to be for just a little while, couldn't I?

  We walked down Telegraph, to a place called Little Gem Belgian Waffles just a few blocks off campus. "Have you been here before?" Chayton asked me.

  "Yeah."

  Chayton grinned. "It's great, isn't it?"

  "It's pretty good." They had Oreos as a topping option. Of course it was great.

  We took a seat after obtaining our waffles. Chayton's was topped with strawberry marmalade, strawberries, and bananas, while mine had Oreos (obviously), chocolate sauce, and Crème de Gem. I was absolutely in heaven after just one bite.

  "So, what else do you like doing for fun? Besides eating burritos and waffles," Chayton asked between bites.

  Fun? Well, as of lately, blow things to smithereens. But it wasn't like I could tell Chayton that. I also went flying, which I couldn't tell him either. Other than that, all I really did was study.

  "I don't know. I like to do chem experiments, I guess. And take things apart then put them back together, or make them into new things." I glanced at him, wondering if he would think my hobbies were weird. When I was younger the other kids used to think so.

  Chayton only smiled, and he didn't look weirded out at all. "That's cool. What do you think you'd like to do with your degree?"

  I shrugged. "I'm not sure. Probably invent things."

  "That sounds neat. I'm not sure what I'll end up doing, either. I want to do something that'll help other people, though."

  "Why?" I asked without thinking. I didn't understand why someone would want to help people so much. Chayton said he knew what it was like to be alone, and that he was an orphan too. Clearly his experiences hadn't jaded him like mine had. I kind of envied him for it.

  "I just like helping people."

  "Do you really think people are worth helping?"

  Chayton seemed surprised by the question. "Of course. Don't you?"

  I half-laughed. "No. I have no interest in helping anyone."

  "Oh." Chayton looked down at his waffle for a moment, then back up. "Why don't you like people? If you don't mind me asking."

  I considered not answering his question. I'd been entertaining just a bit too much conversation for with Chayton today, and I could feel myself wearing thin. I might as well, since I'd come this far. "Why? Because people never gave me a reason to. No one was there for me."

  I instantly regretted my words at the look of pity that spread over his features. "I'm sorry, Avari," he said, putting his hand over mine.

  "Don't." I pulled my hand away and stood. "I don't want your pity."

  Now I really was done. I wasn't sure why I'd put up with him for so long anyways. I threw my plate away—even though there was still a bite of precious Belgian waffle goodness left—and walked out.

  "Avari." Chayton trailed behind me. "Wait. I'm sorry." He caught my shoulder.

  "Stop saying you're sorry. Nobody else ever felt sorry for me and I don't need anyone to now." I shoved his hand off my shoulder. "And stop touching me."

  "Avari…"

  When he stepped towards me, I took a step back and turned around. "Don't follow me."

  I walked back to campus, intentionally taking a different way than we'd come. A couple of times I looked back. Chayton wasn't following me. Good.

  I don't know why, but when he'd looked at me like that, with such sympathy, I'd immediately hated it. He'd meant to console me for my misfortune in life; however, I wasn't looking for any solace. The things I'd been through were mine and mine alone. My past shaped me, helped define me, and yes, what I'd been through was horrible, but I didn't need anyone to be sorry about it now. Certainly not someone who had no idea what my personal experience had been. It was over and done with and being sorry about it wouldn't do anything.

  How was he so damn nice, anyways? I'd been through hell as an orphan, and I barely passed for a functional member of society. I still thought there had to be something about him I was missing.

  I kicked an unsuspecting trash can as I walked by it. Going somewhere with Chayton was supposed to get my mind off all that comic book superhero baloney. Now I was just angry.

  The urge to turn around and set the now dented trash can ablaze was overwhelming. I resisted and looked down at my hands; ash-black singed the tips of my fingers, and my veins had a faint orange glow. I shoved them in my pockets and kept walking.

  Already I wanted to go out as Raven again, to see what kind of
trouble I could stir up, and maybe lure out that Falcon character again since I'd very much like to have a word with him. I sighed. I had class soon, so it was out of the question right now.

  chapter six

  That stupid, pitiful look on Chayton's face when I told him off haunted me. I don't know why I couldn't stop thinking about it. He didn't text or call me either, which I was glad for. Honestly I didn't have any idea what I would've said to him, or what I'd say next time I saw him in class, for that matter.

  While I was trying to study, I thought about that look yet again, and the way he sounded when he said he was sorry—so damn sincere it made me want to hurl something—and I accidentally set fire to my homework. I quickly patted it out before the fire could spread to my books and sighed.

  It had been a few days since I went out on the town. I'd resisted, busying myself with schoolwork. That was probably not the greatest choice, since now I was barely even in control anymore. I really needed to get out for a while, before I ended up burning down the whole damn dorm building.

  I grabbed my mask out of my desk drawer, slipped it into my pocket, and walked out of my room. While I walked towards the edge of campus, I glanced around a few times, dreading running into Chayton as I so often seemed to do. If I had, I doubted he would have even talked to me, after how I'd treated him. Chances were I'd finally succeeded in driving him off like I'd wanted to in the first place. Which I should be happy about.

  Once I was far enough off campus for my satisfaction, I slipped into an alley, pulled my shirt off, and flew off into the clouds. I enjoyed the feel of the breeze through my wings, making a mental note to myself to remember to do this more often. School was keeping me way too busy, which I hated sometimes. While it sucked that it sapped all my time, it was one of those things I recognized as a necessary evil.

  I put on my mask before descending from the clouds to glide over buildings. How many things would I have to light up before the hero of the city showed his face, I wondered? I let loose on a few cars, one right after the other, then moved on to a billboard with some ugly realtor's face, and topped it off with a couple trees (not very eco-friendly I know, but man did they burn up fast).