Personal Demons

by David Morrison

  After half an hour of wrapping Dee in bandages, we headed out for what would be the school’s first – and last – Halloween party.

  Chapter Three: The Monster

  The party was better than I'd expected, given that it had originated as a joke in the sixth form. Someone had made a flippant comment in April about the school having a Halloween Party. The headmaster responded that it wasn't going to happen, which had been a big mistake. If he'd just ignored the idea it would have gone away, but once he’d told the kids 'no' they started a petition which snowballed. Eventually the headmaster bowed to the pressure, and by that point there'd been so much noise about it that all the pupils were excited. The Halloween party went from being a casual joke to the school social event of the year.

  The hall had been decked out with flashing, multi-coloured lights and a teacher who fancied himself a DJ was up on the stage playing tunes through his laptop. We walked in to ‘Thriller’ being played.

  The hall was filled with a who’s-who of horror film icons and teenage monsters, including a fair few zombies. Someone was wandering around in a gorilla suit. There was going to be a prize later on for the best costume. Somehow I didn't think we were in the running.

  Around the edges of the hall, tables held refreshments and food. Non-alcoholic beverages obviously, although some sixth formers were covertly topping up their orange squash with dashes from concealed bottles of vodka. Food was on sale and there were raffle tickets for various Halloween themed prizes. A bunch of teachers and parents were there as well, and they were all enjoying themselves as much as the kids.

  Kate must be loving this, I thought.

  In her spare time - when she didn’t have her nose in a book - Kate was continually investigating haunted houses and the like. She had a fascination with the unexplained and the weird, so much so that if her nickname weren’t ‘Legend’ it would have been ‘Little Miss X-files.’ She never found anything, but it kept her entertained.

  It made having to keep my secrets from her another reason that things were complicated between us, at least from my side. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Kate or Dee, I just didn’t want anyone to know about what a freak I was. I had few enough friends as it was and being labelled a dangerous weirdo by Kate and Dee would have been devastating.

  So I kept my mouth shut and hid my powers from everyone.

  “This is, well, quite cool,” Dee said.

  “Yeah, it’s not bad, is it? Can you see Kate?”

  “Mate I'm not sure I can see anyone underneath all these costumes and makeup.”

  “Fair point.”

  I scanned the hall, but it had a good three hundred plus people in it, and the lights weren’t helping.

  “I'm sure she's here somewhere,” I said.

  We grabbed a couple of glasses of squash and stood at the edge of the hall, trying – and failing - to look cool. I shifted the plastic teeth in my mouth, tried to relax.

  I was starting to get into the whole thing when Clark spotted me. He was dressed up like a zombie, but he didn't bother slow-shuffling over to me. Instead he marched over, his fake blood-stained face furious. It was obvious by the wobble in his walk that he'd been drinking. He towered above Dee and me, emphasising his three-inch height difference (five in Dee's case) by puffing his chest out.

  “I told you not to show up, shrimp!” he hissed at me.

  “Get lost, Clark,” I said.

  “Oh, that is it, you are so dead,” Clark said. He pushed me backwards into a darkened corner of the hall. I stumbled but didn’t fall. I felt anger inside me. Felt the fire.

  “Hey!” Dee said, “Leave Jason alone!”

  Dee got between Clark and me.

  “Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” Clark said, “You two get lost. I don't want to see your stupid faces here anymore.”

  “We're staying,” I said, my voice quivering with anger.

  My fists clenched almost of their own accord, and there it was again. The burning fire in my veins, the sense of power and strength way beyond what’s normal for a sixteen-year-old. It was practically begging me to punch Clark.

  The problem was, one punch from me might kill him. I’m not exaggerating.

  Clark saw my fists and scoffed.

  “Oh, what are you going to do, little man? You want to take a swing? Going to try to Maxwell me? Go on then, take your best shot.”

  The word Maxwell caused me a shock. I unclenched my fists, remembering exactly why I couldn’t hit Clark.

  It had been a couple of years since I'd last heard the name of the kid I'd put in a coma.

  *

  I'd been twelve years old when my – I guess you'd call them my 'powers' – first revealed themselves. The day I saw Maxwell bullying Deepak and intervened was the day I realised I wasn't normal.

  Dee was small for his age. In comparison the chubby, overgrown Maxwell was like an ogre. He was a spoiled, ugly kid who got his way by - often literally - throwing his weight around. He had a special dislike for Dee. Dee tried to ignore the bullying, but one lunch break Maxwell went way too far. When I found them in an otherwise empty classroom, Maxwell, in amongst a lot of nasty racial slurs, was insisting that Dee clean his shoes.

  With his tongue.

  When I saw what was going on, I knew I had to stop it. I didn’t have a plan but I could feel power inside my body, like nothing I’d ever felt before. Maxwell pushed Dee over, and I pushed Maxwell back.

  As I said, Maxwell was a big kid for his age, and I was pretty scrawny. The worst my push should have done was sent him back a step or two. At the most it might have caused him to fall over. Instead, my shove launched Maxwell into the air and sent him flying ten feet across the classroom. His trainers didn’t touch the floor as he hit the back wall with a sickening cracking sound.

  Dee got up with a shocked look on his face.

  “Dude, what was that?” he asked.

  I shook my head, confused. I’d felt this hot, angry fire in me which I’d thought was a normal feeling of, you know, getting angry. I suddenly realised it wasn’t.

  “I don't...” I said, staring in dismay at Maxwell's prone body.

  What if I've killed him? I thought. There'd been something definitive about the cracking sound.

  “It was an accident!” I said as the reality of the situation sank in, “A fluke, a freak accident!”

  We raced to Maxwell's body.

  “Is he breathing? I didn't mean to hurt him, Dee!”

  At that point two other kids from our year walked into the classroom.

  “He's breathing,” Dee said, “I think his arm is broken.”

  He saw the two kids behind us.

  “You two,” he ordered, “Get a teacher. Maxwell, uh, fell off the table.”

  I looked at Dee, startled. He'd come up with the lie smoothly.

  “It was an accident,” Dee said as the kids left, “and you were defending me, anyway. How did you do that?”

  “It was just a fluke,” I repeated.

  The ‘just a fluke’ line was one I’d stick to for the next four years.

  Maxwell spent three weeks in a coma before coming round and making a full recovery. I’d hoped that he’d have amnesia and not remember anything, but no such luck. When he heard our falling off a table story, he nodded and said that was exactly what had happened.

  Then when he returned to school, he began a campaign to turn all the other kids turn against me. He told them I was dangerous, violent, that I’d attacked him for no reason.

  “Jason is mental,” he said, “He should be locked up. Just stay away from him, who knows when he will explode again?”

  He never told the teachers or his parents what had actually happened. Instead, over the following months he ostracised me from all the other kids at school. I became a social outcast. Everyone became scared of me, and they steered clear.

  Hell, I’d become scared of me.

  Maxwell’s parents moved to America a few months later, his father
pursuing a job in Silicon Valley or so I heard. By then, though, the damage had been done. I was ‘mental’ as far as the other kids were concerned.

  The time Maxwell had been in a coma was the longest three weeks of my life. I went to bed every night wondering what would happen if Maxwell never woke up. What if I’d killed someone at the age of twelve? What did that make me? And in fact, what was I at all?

  The one thing I was sure of was that I couldn't let something like that happen again. The phrase ‘he doesn’t know his own strength' didn't even begin to cover it.

  I began testing my powers when no-one was around and stopped doing sports because I was scared of hurting the other kids. As far as Dee knew it really had been some weird fluke, and we didn't talk about it again.

  About the only good thing to come out of it was that as I was getting ostracised at school, Kate started hanging out with Dee and me.

  At the time I thought it was because she felt sorry for me.

  *

  Remembering all of that, I couldn't bring myself to take a swing at Clark. I felt stupid, standing in the school hall, surrounded by people having a good time. What had been the point in coming here?

  “Fine,” I muttered, “We were just leaving anyway.”

  “Oh, no, kid, you don't get off that easily,” Clark said with a nasty smile.

  “What's going on here?” a voice asked from behind Clark.

  It was Kate, dressed up as Morticia Addams. She looked, well, stunning.

  Clark turned to face her, “Nothing babe. These two are leaving, that’s all.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I told them to,” Clark said with a grin.

  Kate looked perplexed and then realised what was happening.

  “I don't believe this,” she said, “Clark, we've been through this. Jason and Dee are my friends, so you need to get over your, whatever this is.”

  Clark was having none of it. He was drunker than I’d realised.

  “You need to decide, babe,” he growled, “It's them or me.”

  I couldn't believe what I’d just heard. Judging by the expression on Kate's face, neither could she.

  “Wow,” Dee muttered under his breath.

  Clark sober was a moron. Clark drunk was a whole new level of stupidity.

  “Excuse me one second,” Kate said as a beeping from her pocket interrupted her. She pulled out her mobile phone, flipped through it, frowned. Then she tapped out a message and hit 'send'.

  “Well?” Clark said.

  Before Kate could reply to Clark's ultimatum, there was a scream from the centre of the dance floor. A real high-pitched terrified scream, not a fake Halloween scream.

  More screams swiftly followed the first one.

  “What the hell is that?!” someone shouted.

  The costumed crowd backed away from the open double doors at the far end of the hall, moving towards us and blocking our view.

  “What’s going on?” Dee said.

  “Stop it!” someone shouted from the crowd, “Get away from it!”

  Some of the kids and adults threw their plastic cups at the creature that had appeared in the hall. One of the parents picked up a chair and tried to push it back through the double doors from which it had entered. I got my first proper look at the creature when it leapt onto the stage, sending the podium and the laptop crashing down.

  The dog-gorilla thing strutted the stage, its rough skin rippled as its claws dug deep into the wood. Vicious teeth were bared as it drooled and snarled. Red eyes glowed and its thick tail whipped back and forth. Its snout sniffed the air. Hunting.

  In the dim light I thought it was a weird dog, or maybe a sixth form prank. It was neither, and you hadn’t seen anything like it on a BBC documentary. Trust me.

  “Is that real?” someone asked.

  The crowd took a few steps back, moving towards us. No-one knew how to react - until the thing let out a throaty roar. The hall descended into panic and chaos. Some people ran for the exit at the far end of the room, while the rest turned towards the four of us and raced to the double doors behind us. The four of us, still trying to understand what was happening, didn’t move.

  The creature strutted along the stage, sniffed, hunting for a scent. It leapt two metres into the air and dug its claws into the wall. It hung above the panicked crowd, sniffing and snarling. It stopped as it caught the scent it was seeking. Its claws dug tighter into the walls as it smelled the air once again, making sure.

  And then it looked directly at me.

  Chapter Four: The Hero

  The thing launched itself off the wall and into the centre of the hall. The four of us stood rooted to the spot as it stared at me, eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

  “What is that?” Kate asked.

  Dee shook his head in disbelief. My mouth was wide open. Clark squinted at the creature, dumbfounded. To the right of us students, parents and teachers were crowded at the door, staring as the thing considered its next move. Some of them had pulled out their smartphones and were filming it.

  Its eyes were still focused on me as it took a slow step forward.

  None of us had any idea what to do. In the end, Clark reacted first.

  “Get out of my way!” he shouted, turning to face me. I was standing between Clark and the door. Rather than stepping around me, Clark shoved me to one side, pushing me to the ground. He barged his way through the crowd as I hit the floor awkwardly. Kate and Dee grabbed my arms, hoisting me back to my feet.

  The thing stalked towards us, growling.

  “RUN!” someone shouted - which was the sensible idea we all should have had a minute earlier.

  We ran.

  Kate, Dee and I were the last people through the double doors. The crowd scattered in front of us, screaming. I’m sure I heard Clark doing most of the screaming, but he was well away by then.

  We slammed the doors shut as the creature picked up its pace. It hit the closed doors with a loud thud. It hit them again, hurling itself at them twice.

  The three of us stood a few paces away as the doors shuddered under the monster’s assault.

  “I hate to tell you this Kate, but your boyfriend is a dick,” I said.

  “Not that this is the time, but...” Kate said, and she showed me her phone.

  The screen displayed the message she’d sent right after Clark had given her his ultimatum.

  Receiver: Clark.

  Message: You’re dumped.

  “Nice,” I grinned.

  “We should really get out of here,” said Dee after another angry thud from the doors.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  We turned and ran down the corridor. Behind us, the double doors smashed open as the creature burst through. It hurled itself with such force that it bounced off the corridor wall opposite, stunning it momentarily before it chased after us.

  “Is it my imagination or is that thing after you, Jason?” Kate gasped as we pelted down the corridor.

  “It sort of looks that way,” I agreed as we swerved around a corner.

  A classroom door swung open. Forrest waved at us.

  “In here!” he shouted

  We ran inside and Forrest closed the door.

  “What is that thing?” he asked me.

  “No idea.”

  My mind was working fast, adrenaline and fear pumping through my system. The classroom door wouldn’t hold the thing and I could feel the power inside me. If anyone had a chance of stopping the creature, it was me.

  I had to do something.

  Before the other three could react, I opened the door and snapped off the elongated U-shaped handle on the classroom side. It came off in one, quick wrench. No problem for my super strengthened arms.

  “What are you doing?” Kate asked.

  Dee was a step ahead of her and realised what I was doing.

  “No!” he shouted, launching himself towards me.

  He was too late. I stepped back into the corridor and closed the door
behind me, ignoring the horrified expressions on the trio’s faces. Without the door handle, they wouldn’t be able to get out. In the meantime, I could draw the monstrosity away.

  I wasn’t trying to be a hero. I was just looking out for my friends.

  *

  After the Maxwell incident, I spent a few weeks testing out my abnormal strength - or trying to at any rate. I didn’t have much success. I lifted weights in the gym and discovered that I was as strong as your average teenager, not more.

  The fire only activated when I was angry or scared.

  I tested this in a few different ways. I’ve always had a fear of heights, so one afternoon I snuck up onto the school roof and stood as close to the edge as I dared. There it was – the fire, activated by the fear I felt. It wasn’t as strong as that day with Maxwell, but it was there. Anything that gave me a rush of adrenaline activated it – hence why I stopped doing sports with the other kids. After having nearly killed Maxwell, I couldn’t risk it.

  My body didn’t physically change when the fire kicked in. There was no visible muscle growth, I was just stronger, faster. I spent months – okay, a few weeks – searching the internet for stories of anything similar, but I came up with nothing useful.

  I noticed something else around the same time: my body healed way faster than normal. Scrapes and bruises would vanish within an hour, with no trace left behind. I tried cutting myself and the cut closed up within minutes. I only did that once. I feel pain the same as everyone else.

  I never got much further than that. I kept everything hidden from Dee and Kate and didn’t talk to Mum or Rob about it either. Honestly, I hoped that it was a growing phase. It was just hormones, I told myself.

  For a while I even fooled myself into believing that.

  *

  I stood in the corridor facing the snarling beast, feeling stronger than ever before. I was terrified, but the fear was fuelling my powers. I didn’t know if it was enough to fight the thing. I’d never been in any real fights and had no self-defence training – unlike Kate, whose dad had paid for a bunch of courses for her. I didn’t even know how to throw a punch other than what I’d seen in action movies and games, and I didn’t think they were reliable guides.