Aberrant: Mutant High - Origins: Michael’s Story

[Courier]

July

Michael locked the door to the bathroom, stripped naked, then and stared in the mirror. Looking carefully, he went over every inch of his body, using a hand mirror to see the parts he couldn’t see with just one mirror.

Nothing. No skin discolorations. No horns. No scales. No eyeballs growing out of his butt.

Mike exhaled and closed his eyes with relief. Absolutely nothing. You’d think he wasn’t…

Mike looked around the bathroom. Some secrets you didn’t share with your parents, your best friend, or even your diary. Some secrets you told NO ONE… not even yourself. Finally he let himself think it. You’d think he wasn’t a mutant.

There. He’d thought it.

Some…? All…? Most mutants seriously got screwed. Himself included. As near as he could tell he fell into that unfortunate category of mutants who were just unusual enough to be different, but not enough to actually be able to protect themselves.

He was healthy… and it sucked.

He’d had Hepatitis a few years back and never fully recovered. It was like he’d just lost two years. And a fourteen year old who is average for a twelve year old is going to have problems. The only one outside his family who was encouraging was Coach Johnson and that’s because it was a good thing to have a 5’2” 85 pound wrestler on the squad. Truth was Mike sucked at wrestling and he knew it. The Coach knew too although he’d never admit it. The rules said if Mike stepped out on the floor in a uniform the other side either put someone out in the same weight group or they forfeited that match and 6 team points. Half the time they couldn’t. Of course when they did have someone he just lost… except towards the end of the season.

He might have started going all mutant in March. Last match he’d had to work hard to make weight. He’d started putting on weight, 103 pounds was the top of his grouping and he’d had to use all the dirty wrestler tricks to come in under that. The other guy was supposed to be decent… and Mike had beaten him anyway. Only match he’d won all season without the other side forfeiting.

He grew almost two inches between the end of the season and the start of summer break in June. He hadn’t lifted weights with the team… no. Let’s be honest. He’d been afraid to lift weights with the team in June. Normal people don’t get 10% stronger every week. They especially don’t skip lifting for two weeks and come back 20% stronger. He’d started so weak he might not be the strongest guy on the team just yet, but by the end of summer he definitely would be.

Mutant.

No civil rights. Basically can be shot on sight. The news last night talked about the army killing some guy. They talked about how evil he was… but when you read really close, it seemed that he hadn’t actually been out irradiating people, it’s just that he could have done so.

And so far Mike’s power was that he was super healthy. He’d grown another inch since the start of summer. That’s not a good thing to get shot over.

[Courier]

First week of August

Wonderful. Just wonderful. Mike sat in his parent's closet and tested his first 'real' power. Gee wow, the mutant glows. No need for a flashlight, all the racist statements about mutants not needing light bulbs are right.

Mike half halfheartedly played with his life threatening power. Bright light-bulb white, probably could pass for an angel to the seriously ignorant. Bright, like 100 watts? More? Oh, joy, it can work as a spotlight. Be an interesting experiment to find out how bright this is, except for the whole, shoot him, he's a mutant issue.

This isn't like health, this is obviously a 'power'... no matter how stupid. Turn this on and police are here in 20 minutes and the army two hours later, or something like that. After twenty minutes he finally figured out how to turn the idiot thing off. If there were a god he'd thank him... of course if there were a god he wouldn't be in this mess to start with.

Mike watched himself carefully for the next several days and stayed in his room after the sun went down. Thankfully in August this wasn't too hard... and even more thankfully, his new power obediently stayed quiet and didn't turn on by itself.

[Courier]

Third week of August

Mike locked the door to the bathroom and gave himself another look over. Still nothing. Maybe there never would be. Maybe he'd finally figured out his mutation. What glowing had to do with being healthy.

For months he'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop, today it finally did. His older sister Sarah had been complaining about menstrual cramps. It'd been whine, whine, whine, whine... then he'd brushed against her and she stopped. He noticed the timing, she only noticed how much better she was feeling. Retrospectively, Mom hadn't had a migraine headache in a long time either.

This health thing worked by touch. Maybe it always had. That glowing thing was energy, and it healed, and since it was always inside him it was always healing him.

Much cooler than wings or scales. Much easier to hide too. He didn't need to touch sick or hurt people too often... although there could be serious money in it if he could work it right.

[Courier]

First week of September

It was going to work. It was REALLY going to work. School had started a few days ago and Mike was 'still' inordinately pleased with that thought. Boys his age were expected to change a lot. Square jaw? Clear skin? Four inches taller in five months? Puberty. Got to be. Puberty was this magic wand that explained everything.

Well, almost everything. Coach Johnson knew Mike hadn't been working out with the team. He was pretty sure Coach suspected steroids and human growth hormone. But as long as Coach was working on a 'don't ask' policy and was willing to believe, or at least pretend he believed, 'gym membership' and 'finally recovering from his previous sickness', even that was fine.

In college he'd be able to explain physical fitness as a lifestyle, here and now it'd make no sense to get all fit and then drop the team. That would attract way too much of the wrong kind of attention. Instead he'd hide in plain sight.

[Courier]

Second week of September

Mike stared at the evil dog on the other side of the fence and wondered. Tail wagging. No barking or growling. He likes me. He's been barking threats of ripped off limbs for as long as I've been walking past this house.

Might not be the same dog, but it sure looks like it. Might be he's on doggy Prozac. It doesn't have to be something I'm doing. If you're a mutant then it's easy to think your powers made the coin land on 'heads'.

Mike put his hand next to the fence. The dog sniffed him and woofed in approval. Or it might be that the square jaw, clear skin, and new inches aren't why you're one of the popular students this year. Mike shivered. Mind control is pretty scary, for everyone. Blatantly illegal on the face of it.

Mike said, "Go away. Go inside." The dog didn't move. Maybe it's easier than that? If he has a tooth pain, then I'll bet it's not bothering him right now. Being healthy is the same as feeling good. And if everyone feels good around me. ...Mr. Popularity in a can. Not exactly useless, Rover here is proof of that. I should see if the effect can be increased. A visit to the pound would do it, all the dogs go nuts if you walk past their cage.

Mike shivered again, I wonder if Coach Johnson would be taking a harder stance against steroids if he didn't like me? Oh, heck. If I ask a girl out I'll have no clue if she would have said yes without this.

[Courier]

Fourth week of September

Mike walked around the house making sure everyone was gone. Sarah was on a date and so were his parents. For the first time in a while he had the house to himself. And now... experiment time! There are times when a boy must do what a boy must do.

Mike walked around the shed and carefully checked no one had moved the gas can back. Bad enough he was going to play with matches, he didn't need be suicidal. The shed was almost empty and the sun was still up. Time to see just how much light he could generate.

Mike went into the shed, shut the door and sat down. Light. Spot light. More light. Still more light... Mike made light pour out until his eyes hurt and he had a headache. Finally he felt something give way... Ouch. I think I hurt myself. If I didn't heal I would have stopped a lot sooner. What on Earth?!?

Mike held out his glowing hand an examined it closely, This is UNREAL!!! I'm not just glowing, I'm made of energy?

Mike touched a wood board, Interesting. I don't feel hotter exactly but I could burn a message in this.

Mike looked down, I'm floating too. Great! I can fly!

...if I'm willing to be this massive glowing target. It'd be impossible to miss me, especially at night.

So I can fly... but only inside the shed. Or maybe my room too if I close the curtains and don't touch anything.

[Courier]

Second week of October

A fifty year old man checked his mailbox then started trudging towards his McMansion. He looked over his mail with intelligent but tired eyes, it'd been a long day. A young voice he didn't recognize said from behind, "Excuse me? Are you Dr. Anderson?"

The older man turned around and found the question had come from a boy in his mid-teens. The man replied, "Yes. Yes I am. Can I help you?"

Mike replied, "I'm hoping we can help each other. I'm... I have the cure for a lot of stuff."

Dr. Anderson replied tiredly, "Son, I'm not interested in talking about religion."

Mike said, "What? No. I meant medical cure."

Dr. Anderson looked at the handsome boy and raised an eyebrow in amusement. The kid was wearing an old sweat suit and making no attempt to look like a salesman. The doctor said, "Miracle Cures? Does it get rid of spots too?"

Mike realized he wasn't being taken seriously and replied, "Miracle mutant cures. I'm a mutant." Mike put his hand closely against his chest and made it glow for a moment. Risky... but stepping out of the closet with him isn't the same as the world.

Dr. Anderson inhaled sharply and took a step back. When Mike didn't do anything more threatening he relaxed partially and said, "Medical science can't do anything for you son. I'm sorry."

Mike repeated patiently, "Relax Doc, if you ask me to leave I'll just leave and go bother some other Doctor. And I know, medical science can't cure me. But I can probably do a lot for Medical Science. My mutation is healing. And I don't just mean healing myself, it works on everyone."

Dr. Anderson inhaled sharply again, this time not in fear, and replied, "That's... a very bold claim. Why are you here? Why me?"

Mike replied, "I'm here because you're a Doctor and I'm not. Maybe you can tell me what I should and shouldn't be doing, what I should and shouldn't be curing. So far it's worked on everything I've tried. Headaches, scraches, bruises, the flu, and I made a friend's blind dog see. But there's real limits on what I can do by myself without going public, and I want to avoid that. I picked you mostly at random. If we find that I can cure all kinds of diseases or whatever, then I'm going to need someone to step up and take credit for what's going on."

Right, let's not tell him that he lives only a mile away so I can sneak out to his place easily, and if he turns me in I can run into that nature preserve behind his place and get lost. I checked and as far as I can tell he and I have never met, we just don't travel the same circles. The internet searches I did on him didn't show anything bad... this is a big risk but I'm never going to mention flight or strength to him, if I get funky vibes off him I'll bolt.

And bottom line is I don't have a choice. Mom and Dad both had their eyeglass prescriptions change for the better. Sis's skin cleared up just like mine. If long term exposure does something funky then I want to know before they all come down with cancer.

Doctor Anderson said, "Please come inside. I have a few ideas. What's your name?"

Mike replied, "John Doe."

[Courier]

Second week of November

Mike had given up keeping the stupid smile off his face. He knew his expression looked out of place at the match, but he was past caring. He was happy. Dr. Anderson had taken a huge load of worry off him yesterday and he was still processing it.

All tests negative. Such a wonderful phrase.

He'd been telling his parents he was 'going jogging and doing other physical fitness' for more than a month now. Instead he'd going to the Doc's house. Exercising was basically a waste of time. He'd get stronger and more endurant no matter what he did.

The initial results said his 'energy' gave this massive increase to immune systems and everything involving healing. There were about a dozen horrible things that should result from that. Mike had been on pins and needles every since hearing the initial prognosis. Stripped of medical terms it basically was 'The Candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long'.

But whatever he was doing was more akin to putting another candle or six in there. More candles don't make the first one burn quicker. He wasn't making anyone use their own energy, he was adding it. The Mayflies or whatever the Doc had him expose his energy to didn't get shorter lifespans. Cost free Health. Live Long and Prosper.

Of course he was breaking all kinds of natural laws, but that didn't matter, science hadn't caught up to mutants just yet.

[Courier]

Third week of November

The ref yelled out "Takedown!" as the other wrestler got Mike's legs and threw him to the mat, then "Escape!" as Mike got to a neutral position. One point for Mike, two points for the other guy.

The other wrestler took Mike down twice more, and he escaped twice more. You could win on points via 'Technical Fall' if you got 15 points over the other guy. In theory Mike was twelve points away from losing, in reality being able to pick up the other player plus his coach was an insurmountable advantage. Mike was putting a lot of effort into making this look hard but he'd already decided he'd let himself win after giving up 10 points.

"Takedown!" "Escape!" Mike freed himself again and realized it was time. Next time he wouldn't just stop with an escape.

"Takedown!" "Reverse!" Through sheer strength Mike freed himself then forced the other player into a half Nelson and a pin. He held him down for a full two seconds. The ref blew the whistle. That was the match. Mike had 6 points to the other guy's 10, but with the pin that didn't matter. He won, six team points for his side. Mike shook hand with the other guy, then his coach, then went back to his own side.

His teammates congratulated him as did the coach. Later he expected the coach would go over his 'mistakes' during practice. His team lost the meet. There were fourteen weight classes and one invincible player wasn't enough.

[Courier]

Forth week of November

Mike decided he was a god of rats. Doc had gotten a half dozen white ones to see what Mike could do. The answer was close to anything. Paralyze it by injecting it's spine with alcohol, and zap, it could walk. Burn all it's hair off, and not only could Mike deal with the burns but he countered the tranquilizer too. Both Doc and Mike were somewhat relieved when the 'dead' rat experiment stayed dead. Apparently there were limits.

Unfortunately people were a lot harder. He could do cuts, he could do bruises, he could make people more 'energetic', but true human miracles were a little out of reach. This might be a good thing considering the difficulty of getting and dealing with human subjects.

Doc thought it wasn't a matter of people being more complex than rats; With the obvious exception of the brain that was largely a myth. Doc pointed out a rat massed less than a hundredth what a person did. Ergo Mike was deluging them with proportionally 100 times as much energy as he could give a human.

There were two solutions. First, if Mike were better at directing the energy he could use, then he'd waste less of it and get better results. Second he could just throw more energy. The second was outside Doc's ability to teach, but there was an instate school for mutants. Of course you couldn't really go there and be in the closet.

[Courier]

First week of December

'Depressing' was a nasty prison where all the inmates were scheduled for execution. Mike felt sorry for the workers. Presumably you work at the pound because you like animals, but these dogs and cats were desperate and knew they were in a bad situation. Mike couldn't imagine what it'd be like to work around them full time.

Pound policy was they had a one week turn around. That sounded nice and cheery, but it meant most of these animals had a one week life expectancy after they walked in the door. Find an owner or be put to sleep, and Mike didn't want to know what percentage found an owner.

Mike looked around to see no one was watching him then ducked into one of the rows of cages. About fifty dogs started desperately barking at him. He waited a moment but no human raised a voice or came to see what the problem was, this was what passed for normal around here.

Mike reached into what he privately called his furnace of health and released some without glowing. The dogs stopped barking.

Mike thought, Thought so. Just like that dog down the street, you're feeling too good now to be real anxious... even about your pending executions. Sorry guys, I'd love to take you all home with me but that's not going to happen.

[Courier]

Second week of December

Mike lay in bed just staring at the ceiling. Life was good. His sixteenth birthday was in a few weeks but he'd celebrated early. He wasn't a virgin any more.

That was a subject that had been bothering him for a while. Enough so that he'd shelved any metaphysical worries he'd had about his powers. Other guys on the team talked about what they'd done, and if it was possible for them without powers then it really should be possible for him too. Like the rest of his life, he just needed to take a lot of care.

He'd gathered his courage and asked Kathy out. She'd said yes. She had a... reputation... which turned out to be well earned. Clearly she'd been a lot more experienced than he was, although there was no way he was going to mention this in the locker room.

The hardest part about all of it was asking her out, but that had turned out to be much worrying about nothing. He'd had a really good time, he was pretty sure she had to. He'd have to do this again in the future.

[Courier]

Forth week of December

Life was good. He'd asked a different girl out and gotten laid again.

He'd also come to the realizations about his future. Short term, he was going to have to join another team or two. Thankfully football was out, too much overlap with wrestling and it'd be a disaster anyway. So track definitely, maybe baseball too. People would see what they expected to see.

Long term, he needed a medical degree and license. Not just for the skill, the law was going to be a problem. Doc claimed nothing Mike did was technically illegal even now. There were aspects of medicine reserved specifically for doctors like prescribing drugs and surgery. But you didn't need a medical license for everything medicine-ish, just the reserved parts. Parts of the practice of medicine was restricted, but what he did wasn't medicine anyway. It was more like faith healing.

Everything was legal until it was specifically outlawed, and that wouldn't make a darn bit of difference. Normal people could sell magnets and claim they would heal and the government wouldn't step in. Lots of normal people claimed faith healing worked and even that was legal.

But actually healing... that meant mutant, and that would attract attention and government intervention. At best he'd end up in that school in the next town over, more likely he'd end up dead.

If he was going to hide in plain sight he needed to be able to claim he was healing with medicine, and that meant a medical license. It'd be like what he was doing in wrestling all over again.

[Courier]

First week of January

16. He was 16 years old. He'd also grown 9 inches in 12 months putting him at 5'11".

Time for the old annual checkup. His doctor said average growth was 3.5, and then he'd gone into this speech about how 'there was no such thing as average' and how he was 'apparently making up for lost time'. Then the doc pulled out some charts and said if they averaged his growth out over 3 years it was pretty normal.

For about five minutes Mike thought he was home free.

Then the Doc pulled his mom aside and they started the tests. The good doctor was worried about Acromegaly, the same condition that created André the Giant. The test came back negative, the doc didn't believe it, so instead he did a more involved 'glucose tolerance test', which also reported Mike's levels of growth hormone were normal. Lacking anything else to do, the Doc wrote it off as a mystery and decided that Mike must be about done with his growth.

This... was a problem. If he were older he'd just switch doctors without transferring his records. If he couldn't figure out a way to halt his growth he'd have to come out of the closet to his parents. On the other hand he probably had almost a year to worry about this so Mike decided he wouldn't.

[Courier]

Forth week of January

"Hey, Christian!!!" From the tone of voice what he really wanted to yell was 'Hey, Asshole'. It looked like Guy had finally arrived, just as the buses were loading, exactly as Mike had been warned.

Guy was a bully and had made life unpleasant for Mike on occasion over the years. He was older and fortunately for Mike the two didn't normally cross paths. Guy was a senior, and a member of the football team, and three inches taller and about 30 pounds heavier, about 50 of those being fat and not muscle.

Guy's girlfriend Maria was in Mike's English class, this was about her. Ironically the warning hadn't come from her. During lunch several football players, including the team Captain, had cornered Mike and told him that Guy was coming. They'd also told him the football team wouldn't take offense if he 'did something' about it. Mike was popular and Guy wasn't a starter.

Another irony was that Mike and Maria hadn't gone out. Mike made a mental note to ask her out after this incident was over. In theory Mike could apologize for the misunderstanding and that would be that. In reality showing weakness to Guy wouldn't be a good thing and besides, Guy really had this coming. If he wanted to make this public and ugly, that was fine with Mike.

[Courier]

Guy growled, "Keep your f*cking hands off my f*cking girlfriend!"

Mike replied, "Go away Guy."

A crowd started to gather and Guys said again, "Keep your f*cking hands off my f*cking girlfriend!"

Mike looked around and wondered whether Guy was stalling for time to let people get in position to watch. Probably he decided. His last run in with Guy had been pretty humiliating. Guy no doubt remembered it too.

Mike replied again, "Go away Guy." Mike added for the benefit of the crowd, "Go study how to pump gas and catch footballs. Oh, wait, you're not doing that are you? Is that why Maria dumped you? If you're not going Pro then you're nothing? Does it bother you knowing that..."

Guy didn't wait for Mike to finish but stepped forward and hit him. Mike stepped into the swing and grabbed Guy. Then he twisted so both of them fell to the ground with Mike on top. Guy was Football, not wrestling, Mike pinned him in short order.

Mike asked him, "You finished with this?"

Guy yelled back, "F*CK you Man, I'm going to make you pay for this!"

Mike let Guy up and he came up swinging. Mike pinned him again. They repeated that twice more with the last time Mike saying quietly to Guy, "This is a pressure lock. Banned move on the mat. If I pull up rather than twist your shoulder goes out of joint."

Guy yelled.

Mike continued, "I'm going to let you up again, and if you come up again when I put you down this time I'll make sure you'll be lying here for a while. You're a joke. You've been a joke for years. Oh, and Maria has tramp stamp. Japanese symbol. It means 'Goddess' or something." The last wasn't a guess, Mike hadn't seen it but he'd overheard her talking about it right after she'd gotten it.

Mike rolled to his feet, got his book bag, and walked away. Guy stayed down with tears rolling down his eyes.

[Courier]

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