The Story Teller

Awkward Her

Allen didn't know what was happening, but he knew that having a roof completely cover a building was not normal. He had called Elena but had little hope as she had never carried her phone with her to work to limit her distractions. Eliot had not been home since she had taken him, and he had gotten worried.

Hoping they were all right, he jutted his hands into a bit of the rubble and pulled out some debris.

Though it seemed a normal man could not clear what was close to rockslide, Allen was not normal. He was gifted with the power of superhuman strength, and had barely used it, with the invention of tractors and plough and thank God he never got to do that.

He pulled another boulder and shoved it out of the way until it was completely gone, and he felt someone collapse onto his arms...

He blinked. 'Elena?'

'Oh, thank GOD!' she screamed as stretched her graceful hand towards the collapsed building. 'Wake up,' she muttered.

There was a moment of silence.

Eight tiny figures. Allen saw them stumble around like drunken soldiers and figured those were the kids, but why were they only eight?

Elena was leaning on him, and she could feel her heated breath on his shoulder. He stared at her, waiting for an answer. She finally met his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

Elena was not Allen's favorite person in the world, but she oversaw her brother, and so he would trust her. At first, Allen had thought Elena's "storyteller" gig was a joke, until he saw his brother laugh and smile for the first time in weeks...

He was indebted to her for that.

Allen was a fine specie of man, his skin a nice tanned white, with blonde hair reaching to his neck and sharp blue eyes. His nose a beautiful point and his lips small yet full. He really was a bit more exciting than say, a Ricardo fellow...

But he would never see Elena that way, and Elena would never see him that way, she hoped.

Allen had never seen anyone look so desperate, and so she refused to let her speak, obviously to defend herself, but instead stepped inside. She followed him, could hear her command the children to stay, then follow him.

He searched until his eyes settled on his brother, hunched over a beautiful blonde little girl, probably his age, and she was bleeding. He peered at him and saw that there were tears on his cheeks. Elena saw the blood and stepped out her mouth sour.

Really...

Then she stepped in with a kid with curly hair and a horrified expression, his eyes green and teary.

'Ok, Eliot. Like we practiced.' Elena whispered.

The boy, Eliot, was quite older than all his peers, so it would make sense that he started practicing his gift, but what was it that was so important...

Eliot was filled with nerves. He did not want to see Emily, or anyone for that matter, die, and so he had to do this right. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and knelt opposite Eli and looked at Emily. She seemed pale, but Eliot could feel the faint beating of her heart. It was small, but it was enough. Enough to save her.

He placed his shaking hand on Emily's stomach and concentrated. He tried not to smell the blood, tried not to feel how cold Emily felt under his fingers, and concentrate on life, on the image of her heart beating faster, of her beautiful face full of life...

There was silence as Allen watched a red light pass through the girl's body. No, not light. It seemed more holier than that. There was a word for it. As if he was transmitting life through his very fingertips. The kid's face beaded sweat and his arm seemed to loosen around the young girl's chest. The stream of red light stopped, and the boy collapsed.