The Many Faces of Tully
Early Bird

I can’t fall asleep. My brain is in overdrive. This morning I was alone, dangerous, and powerful. Tonight, I am surrounded by fourteen men, who are powerful also, but I’m still dangerous. I sift through all of the information I got today.

I study the list Calchas gave me over and over again. I make sure I remember the face to the name, and what their powers are. They know me so it would be rude of me not to know them. I quiz myself until I am sure I have them all right.

After that I still can’t sleep. I’m happy, but I’m terrified. I’m not alone, and this place already feels like home to me. I feel like I belong here. But I’m terrified that I’m going to be too dangerous for them. They’ve only seen a part of it.

I’m eager for the tests tomorrow, but once again, I’m nervous. The tests might show I’m too dangerous. I don’t want to be too dangerous. I want to learn to control my powers. Can they actually help me do that? Can I become a safe person? Can I stop hurting people?

And then there is the huge battle that they’re talking about. How are we going to fight a faceless enemy with an unknown power? Can I really be the key to the battle? How do all of our powers come together to overcome this enemy?

I mean, I’m sure I could defeat this person, unless they are indestructible like Nash. I wonder if Nash can be killed. Surely he is just as powerful as I am if he can’t be hurt. And Gunther, with the knowledge of every weapon.

Or Haides, who can disappear. Hutsi who can control the elements. That is just plain cool. Like Mirage making you see whatever he wants you to. Everyone is so powerful. How come I’m so special? I can’t even control my powers like they can.

My clunky watch reads 3:53 a.m. when I finally give up on trying to sleep. I look for something to wear. I don’t know how my powers do it, but they change the sizes of my clothes too. I pick out dark blue skinny jeans and a blue T-shirt. I pull my long black hair up into a high pony tail.

The tip of my pony tail tickles my lower back, which is exposed. My stomach is always showing, to show off my belly button ring. I look into the mirror in my room and straighten my necklace. Then I leave my room to hunt down some food and coffee.

I walk into the kitchen and it’s empty, but I smell freshly brewed coffee. Someone must be up, and I assume its Kato. I expect he doesn’t sleep much being all-knowing and all. Or selective-knowing he should say. I wonder why he doesn’t know everything.

I hunt down a mug and pour coffee in it, but it’s too hot to drink right now. It must have just brewed. It’s probably programmed to brew at 4 a.m. I find cereal and pour myself a large bowl of Captain Crunch. I realize I don’t want to eat in the kitchen all alone so I leave to go eat in my room.

The kitchen door is a swinging door, so I turn my back to it to open it. I watch my overflowing bowl of cereal and my full mug of coffee to make sure they don’t spill. I turn around when the door is open and then I collide with someone.

I watch as the brown coffee soaks up Jace’s white shirt, and some of my Captain Crunch spills onto the floor. Then I notice coffee splashed onto my hand too and it burns me. I drop the mug and the bowl of cereal in pain. They both shatter at our feet.

“Gah!” he cries out in pain as he holds his shirt out from his body. His hair is wet and he smells freshly showered. He’s wearing blue jeans around his hips, and the hem of his boxers is showing. He looks at the cereal mixing with the coffee at our feet. “I’ll go get some paper towels,” he sighs, and walks into the kitchen.

I drop down to my knees and start picking up the broken pieces. I stack them carefully in my hands. I remember cutting myself once picking up a shattered glass when I was a kid. My mom shouted at me not to touch it, but I bent down anyway to help.

There is a large piece of the bowl, so I stack the smaller pieces into that. Jace comes back and starts mopping up the liquid with a roll of paper towels. Once he has a large wad of soaked paper towels he goes back into the kitchen.

I’ve picked up all the ceramic now, so I stand to go throw it in the trash. I turn carefully so I don’t drop anything. I’m almost to the door when it swings open towards me. I gasp as the door smacks my hands that are held out in front of me.

It all falls out of my hands to the floor again, and shatters into even smaller pieces. Blood starts dripping from my palm instantly and I suck in a sharp breath through my clenched teeth.

I tighten my hand into a fist and grab my wrist with my other hand automatically. Jace squeezes through the door and takes in the sight of blood pouring out of my clenched fist. It looks like a faucet as it falls to the floor and begins pooling on the ground. My hand throbs and I whimper slightly. It really hurts. It must be a deep cut.

“Here. Let me see it,” Jace says, holding out his hand. I don’t budge, so he reaches forward and takes my hand. I can’t unclench it. It hurts too much.

He looks up at me expectantly. “You need to open your hand,” he says to me after a moment. I just shake my head. He sighs and tries to pry open my hand. Both of our hands are covered in my blood.

He finally gets my hand open and I try my hardest not to clench it into a fist again. He mumbles, “You’re such a baby,” under his breath. He twists my hand back and forth for a moment, examining it.

“It’s pretty deep, but I’ve seen worse,” he touches his fingers to the cut and I gasp in pain. I try to jerk my hand from his but he’s holding on too tightly on my wrist. His hand glows green and the blood flow immediately slows down.

“Is this your power or something? Extreme klutziness?” he says as we both watch the cut on my palm miraculously stop bleeding and close up.

I examine it closely after he lets go of my hand. “Thank you,” I say to him. “And no, it’s not. My name would be something else if that was what my power was.”

“What does 'powerful people' mean anyways?” he mutters, more to himself than to me. He kneels down and continues to clean up.

I kneel down next to him and help him. “Do you really want an answer?” I mop up my blood so he doesn’t have to.

“Sort of, yeah.” He’s picking up the ceramic this time.

“I can explain half of it. The other you kind of have to witness…” He looks at me expectantly, his eyes burning with curiosity. “Well, do I look like I did when you first met me?” I ask him.

“No,” he answers, turning his focus on the shards.

“That’s the people part. It happens every time. This is my seventh appearance. It’s changed six times.” I don’t know why, but it’s nice to tell him this. It’s nice to actually share who I really am with someone.

“How do you change appearances?” He piles the broken pieces onto a paper towel.

“I sort of explode…” I say awkwardly.

“Explode?” He looks up at me. His gray eyes are piercing, probing, searching for answers.

“That’s the best way I can explain it. Like I said, you have to witness it to understand it. But nobody who has witnessed it has survived. Well before last night that is,” I admit, ashamed.

He’s looking at me with wide eyes. He must think I’m a horrible person. He heals. I kill. We are exact opposites and it makes my stomach ache. I want to be safe, like him.

“When you say no one has survived that means they’re…” He stalls.

“Dead,” I say evenly, not looking away from him. Maybe he might believe I’m powerful when he knows how dangerous I am. I’m too powerful. I can’t control it.

The mess on the floor is forgotten by the both of us. We are crouched next to each other with paper towels in our hands.

“How many?” he says quietly, almost like he doesn’t want to ask the question, but he wants to know. His eyes are too sharp, so I finally drop my gaze.

“Thirteen,” I admit to the blood soaked paper towels.

“How do you cope with that?” His tone is judgmental.

“What makes you think that I do? I wish I was the one who died instead of them. It haunts me, but what can I do? It’s done and over with. I’m just trying to focus on it not happening again,” I tell him honestly.

“I can’t wait to see in person what you’re capable of, Tully,” he says and continues to clean up the mess.

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