Croatoa

"We're very disappointed," they had said, when they finally stumbled across my secret stash. I could have hidden it much better, if I'd wanted, but I hadn't thought it was necessary. Hell, I'd been expecting at least mum to be proud of me, for taking things into my own hands.

"We know we're at least partly to blame," they'd gone on. "Maybe we didn't make you realize just how dangerous this is."

"I can do it," I'd assured them. "I'm ready."

They hadn't agreed. Or maybe they didn't want to see it, didn't want to recognize that their little girl was growing up. But the more I think about their expressions that day, as they sat me down and gave me the talk that turned my life upside-down, the more I suspect that they were afraid.

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"Alex, stop it!" Pauline screams. "This is mad!"

"Are you calling me crazy?" I ask, calmly, as I advance. "Bonkers? Loony? Is that really what you want to call me right now?"

"Please!" She starts to cry, right on schedule, as if she could fool me so easily. "Why are you doing this?"

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"Would you turn down that noise?" Bridget yelled, much more loudly than need be, though I don't imagine she realized it, seeing as she had her hands clamped over her ears. Honestly, she was so much worse than mum, who at least had never called my music "noise". I swear, if we hadn't just had a party for her sixteenth birthday, I'd be certain she was at least thirty. She had only eaten a tiny piece of her cake, too, and that just to be polite. That kind of thing was "too sweet" for her, or some such nonsense.

I was feeling rather magnanimous, so I took the volume down a few pegs, even though I found it difficult to believe it could really be bothering her -that- much. For a laptop, my computer had decent speakers, but they could hardly be called "loud" with any seriousness.

"You know, they make these things called headphones," Bridget said, turning a page in her book. It was homework of some sort, of that you could be sure - she was sitting at her desk, back straight as a rail, looking just as she did at all of her classes. She had a bit of a slouch when she was reading for pleasure. Occasionally, she'd even giggle then, though it happened so little that it always freaked me out a little. It just didn't sound natural. "You should look into them."

"They make earplugs, too," I pointed out. "Maybe you should check those out." I shook my head, hissed under my breath, "Mardy cow." It was days like those that I truly began to wonder if, despite their claims, my parents really had been trying to punish me. I guess they hadn't chosen my roommate or anything, but still.

Sometimes I just don't understand adults.

---------

Maybe she knows; maybe she doesn't. I like to think they do, as it makes it a little easier, but as much as they feign ignorance, sometimes I wonder. Not that it makes much of a difference, either way.

"I'm afraid," I tell her, holding up my knife again, so that it shines in the moonlight, "I don't have time to explain it tonight." She tries to stand back up, pain shining in her eyes, exploding as I stamp down on her ankle again before kneeling down in front of her.

"I can't guarantee they'll do any good for you," I say gently, "but would you like your last rites?"

---------

"It's definitely different," Jillian shrugged. "But it's kinda not, you know? People are pretty much the same, but everything has this whole different vibe."

"Ah," I nodded. "You probably get asked that a lot, don't you? I'm sorry."

"Oh, no problem," she waved it off with a smile. "I need the practice, since I'm sure I'll get asked that even more when I get home. I have a little sister, and you know how they can be."

"I'm an only child. But I know little kids, so yeah." I smiled back at her. "So, how do you like Pauline as a roommate? Don't tell her this, but I've heard some weird stuff about her..."

"Oh, she's fine," Jillian glanced away from me nervously, a sure sign she was hiding something. I let the silence hang for a few moments, knowing it would work better than anything I could possibly say. "But, it's just..."

"Just what?" I asked, scooting closer to her. "Come on, you can tell me."

She shook her head. "No, I shouldn't... It's just..."

I patted her hand, smiled into her eyes. "You can trust me."

---------

"Clear off!" Her hand smacks mine aside suddenly, her fingers cold against my skin, and smooth, like metal.

Finally, she shows her true form, as silver begins to pour across her body, slowly turning her into a living statue. It is, in its own way, beautiful.

"I think you broke my bleedin' ankle, you loon," she whines, reaching down for it with a whimper. "Now stop joking around right now, and help me to the hospital."

I shrug. "I guess I'll take that as a no."

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"Come on, just a few quid," I begged, even going so far as to get down on my knees. Bridget was not impressed. "I'll pay you back when my birthday comes round."

"Just ask your parents for it now." She grinned at me, all superior, as she chewed her food. I'm not going to pretend I'm the greatest roommate in the world, but there were time when she made me wish I'd spent all year putting itching powder in her pants.

I'd like to tell her I can't, yet it would only have led to the inevitable question of why not, to which there wasn't any good answer. At least not that I could have told her. "Fine," I said instead, picking up my tray and starting to stand. "Be that way."

"What's got her in a tizzy?" Pauline asked, suddenly appearing from nowhere, Jillian trailing a few steps behind.

"She's looking for money," Bridget shrugged. "Probably getting herself a prostitute." It was probably the closest thing to a joke I'd ever heard from her mouth, though she quickly added a serious, "But you're not bringing him to our room."

"He'll stay on my side of the room," I assured her dryly.

"How much do you need?"

I blushed, a little flustered. "You don't have to do that, Pauline."

She'd shook her head, reaching for her purse. "Don't worry about it."

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The first cut is the hardest. I should have been quicker, but I'd hesitated too long, let too much of her body morph. It swirls around the knife in her chest, holding it fast.

I shrug, stop trying to pull it out, and instead land a kick squarely on the hilt, which breaks. No big surprise there - it had been pretty cheap - but still a pity. It'd had a nice weight to it.

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"I'm sure your father will like this one," the man said, holding it up towards the fluorescent light before flipping it upwards and catching it again. "It's got a nice weight to it."

"I don't know," I glanced down at the case. "Is there anything cheaper?"

"Not for something this quality," he bristled.

"Well, it's just for show," I quickly told him. "It's not like he uses them or anything. But it does look very nice." He kept it out, handed it to me when he saw I was struggling to make up my mind. Ah, what did I care - it's not like it was -my- money. "You know what, I'll take it."

"Very fine choice."

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Her arm darts towards me, slithering through the air like a snake. She's slow, still not used to using her powers like that. I grab her hand easily and shove it back towards her before she realizes she could have her flesh slip between, and around, my fingers.

She's still crying. I guess I would be, too, if I'd been stabbed.

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"Glad I caught you out here!" I hurried over to Pauline, hoping she wouldn't notice how badly I was shivering - I'd been waiting for her to go for her usual evening jog for what felt like hours, at least. "Care if I join you?"

"Feel free," she smiled. "I'm just waiting for Jillian to get out of the head."

"Oh." I glanced towards the door. "I was kind of hoping I could talk with you. Alone."

"We can go to the coffee shop after," she shrugged apologetically. "I promised her."

"It's all right," I sighed quietly. I could work around it.

---------

I force her back, keeping her off balance for long enough to reach down, to the back of my boot. It's not nearly as nice a knife, but it'll do.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks, tears glistening in her eyes. "What did I do?"

But I have even less time now, and she's just wasting it.

--------

Jillian gasped first, backing away with a hand to her mouth. I'd been hoping the lack of street lamps would have made it harder to see, but I guess being out in the middle of nowhere, there wasn't much else to look at.

I slid the knife from out of its sheath, the wind having already exposed it by blowing my coat open too wide. I stood up, all traces of the tiredness I'd just faked to get our little group to stop gone.

"I'm sorry you have to see this," I told Jillian, "but it has to be done."

I kicked Pauline's ankle, thought I heard a snap.

Jillian backed away, shaking. "What's wrong with you? I'm... I'm going to go get the headmistress... You'd better..."

It was unfortunate, but sometimes, sacrifices had to be made. I stepped forward, slashing towards her throat, but even as she stepped backwards, her feet left the ground. Unless everyone could do that in the States, or she was one of them, too. It would have been a great stroke of luck, if I'd realized it earlier.

Jillian looked just as surprised as me, but not enough to stay low enough to the ground for me to grab her.

"Oh, chill," I told her, holding up my hands. "I'm just having a go at her... Look, it isn't even a real knife."

She hovered in a little closer to examine it, before Pauline ruined everything by whining, "That wasn't much of a joke! You really hurt my foot."

I swung the knife, caught Jillian's stomach. She lurched downwards in shock, and I clubbed her on the head. She went out like a light.

"And now," I said, stepping back towards Pauline, "for you."

---------

"May God," I whisper, "have mercy on your soul." I leave off 'if you even have one'. It probably sounds more comforting without it.

I jam my second knife into her eye, coming close to retching as I feel liquids, thick and warm, flowing onto my hand, but I stop myself, force myself to keep pushing.

Eventually, she stops struggling.

--------

"It's my mission," mum had told me, back when she first found out. "It's a test, you see. And mankind, we're failing. We're too blind to recognize it. They're not people, like you and me. They've come to us in our skin, but they're Croatoans, and they're here to wipe us off the planet. Like we'd never been here in the first place. Whether they want to or not, that's their lot. And it's my lot to stop them."

I wasn't sure then, what any of that meant - now, it's hard to believe how stupid I was.

"Why is it your job?" I'd asked. "Isn't there anyone else?"

"It's just destiny," she'd answered. "If we could only get other people to see, then maybe they would help."

"I can help."

But mum had shook her head. "Not until you're older."

And yet, even then, when she and dad had found my weapons, realized I was getting ready, they'd freaked out, sent me off to boarding school. "Go," they'd said. "Have a normal childhood."

But I'm not normal. And I had a destiny, too.

--------

Jillian is apparently tougher than I realized; by the time I finished dragging Pauline's body off to the woods, she was gone. She'd left a trail of blood, however, towards town, and, I assume, the hospital, rather than to the school. I have a little time, at least. I have faith it will be enough.

"Have you seen Pauline?" Bridget asks when I walk into our room. I hesitate, just for a second, shake my head. "She was supposed to study with me tonight," she grumbles. "Maybe I'll go check her room."

"She probably just forgot," I add, casually rifling through my clothes, deciding what I really need. Bridget seems to accept it, and starts gathering up her books.

"Have fun," I tell her as she leaves to start searching.

I don't even fill my duffel, though it almost pains me to leave behind so many of my things. This is another test, I tell myself. I don't need all that stuff. What I need, God will provide.

I hear sirens in the distance as I set off, but they're too late. I've already wasted too much time here, and the thought puts a bit of extra speed into my step, though I know, in my heart, that I'm in no danger.

It's time to go out into the world, and start doing some real good.