Abnormality

TW: Child Abandonment, Child Kidnapping , Mild use of socially unacceptable language, Death

"Okay, Pumpkin, try again."

"Like this?"

"Just like that."

McMullen Residence

Darla: Age 7

1989-07-03

"Peach and Pumpkin, the dynamic crime duo rob the bank! What is the world going to do now? Oh, but wait! A hero has arrived! Waffles!"

"Darla! Your dinner's ready!" Darla's mother called from the door.

"Mom! Five more minutes?" Darla really wasn't a child that was ready to do anything but live in her perfect imaginary worlds. Ones where daddies stayed to watch their little girls grow up, to let them have a happy time living with them. Darla doubted that whoever her daddy was, he didn't know that all she really wanted was to meet him and spend time with him. Was that so much to ask? Apparently, it was.

Darla was of course, true to her word and started packing up her toys in the little drawstring bag that her mommy made for her last year. Unaware of the paneled van on the side of the street and the creepy man that was walking up behind her. She only really took note of it too late for her to realize. The cloth was already over her nose, the sickly sweet scent fogging her mind and putting her into a deep, fitful sleep.

???

Darla: Age 7

1989-07-05

Darla woke with a start, but nobody was in the room with her. She seemed to be in some sort of prison cell or something, and she tried her darnedest to remember what she had done wrong to get thrown in here. Alone.

She screamed out for someone, anyone, just to make sure that this wasn't a dream and that she was already going to be home soon. Just going to wake up on her cozy little bed and eat breakfast. But someone did come to shut her up, and he didn't look all too friendly, but the scariest thing is that he looked much too real for it to be a dream. She was awake, and she didn't know the time, the date, or where she was and what she did to deserve this.

She started to cry into her hands with silent sobs of helplessness. The scary man apparently decided that it was better that frantic screaming, so he just let the matter go. Nice of him.

???

Darla: Age 8

1989-07-15

"Happy birthday to me,

Happy birthday to me,

Happy birthday dear Pumpkin,

Happy birthday to me!"

Darla was desperately hoping that she could at least have celebrated her eighth birthday with her mommy, but she would survive without.

"Pumpkin, hmm? Thank you for coming up with my code name for you, Darla."

"W-Who are you? You're new!"

"Mm? Yes, I suppose that I am."

"Do you know my mommy? Where am I? Am I allowed to leave? What's happening? Do you know why I'm here? What did I do wrong?" With that, Darla broke into tears.

"I can't answer one of those questions but I can answer the rest. No, you are not allowed to leave. You are here because I find you eligible for the tasks I need for you and you are young enough to do them. You did nothing wrong. I do not know your mother." The man's voice was warm and consoling. But what could I be eligible for? Darla thought.

"Are you a doctor?" Darla asked, noticing the white trench coat that the new man wore.

"Whatever possessed you to ask? Oh, the coat. No, I am not."

"A scientist then?"

"No."

"Then you're a super villain!"

Mr. Mason stopped at that. No, he was not a super villain, but would that be what Darla would see him as after learning what he could do? After she saw for herself what he did to keep this world balanced, stable?

"That could be debatable."

"Ha! You are, aren't you? A real live super villain!"

Somehow, Darla didn't seem to be perturbed. He took that as a good sign, her moral compass has not fully developed yet. That's a good thing, he tried to convince himself. But how could such an evil thing be good? How could staining an innocent child like this be a good thing? It is good for his own benefit, but nothing more. She does not seem to mind a bit about my nature. For some reason, this screamed something distinctly bad at him.

"What powers do you have?" Mr. Mason was immediately snapped out of his thoughts by the younglings question.

"I will respectfully decline the answer to that question."

"So you admit it!" Damn, she got him good.

"Yes."

"Woohoo!"

"I will need to take you out of your cell now."

"And you admit that this is a cell! Two in a day!"

"...Yes."

Magic Awakening Chamber

Darla: Age 8

1989-07-15

"So, what's your name?"

"It would be better if you don't know that, Pumpkin."

"Why are you calling me Pumpkin now?"

"You will likely not remember much from your previous life after this." Why the hell was he telling Darla this information?!

"What?"

"Nevermind," Mr. Mason deflected.

"Where are we going?"

"The table. Lie down."

"This room doesn't look too friendly."

"It's not supposed to. Lie down."

"Why?"

"Because I told you to."

"Well, why did you tell me to?" Damn, she was a smartass, this one.

"I'm not answering that."

"Why?" God.

"You don't need to know."

"Why?"

"Because you just don't."

"Okie dory." Darla lay on the table, strangely compliant.

"I just want to see my mommy again, and if this will let me, I want it to happen. Just do your worst. I want my mommy back." Darla sounded distant, and Mr. Mason felt dreadful for what he needed to do to her. She certainly needed her magic to be one of his 'children', but the method of getting the manalines open is very... painful. Painful enough for the one getting them opened for the first time to forget a lot of things, even the most important and dear memories. He started to strap Darla to the table.

"Why're you strapping me down?"

"I have something to admit to you, Pumpkin."

"What is it?"

"This... is going to hurt."

He flipped the switch, and immediately Darla was engulfed into searing colours, Red, White, Blue, Green, they were endless and going too, too fast. Everything was numb, but she suspected that she was in burning agony, if her thoughts were any clue to it. I can’t hear my screams, I can’t feel my face, I can’t I can’t Ican’tIcan’tIcan’t nothingfeelsrightanymoreIcan’tfeelanythingthatmybodyfeelswhatiswrongwithmeIneedhelppleaseanyoneifyou’reoutherehelpmeIneedhelpcolorpainfeelingnothinghelpIneedhelpIneedlifewhatishappeningaroundmewhatishappeningtomewhatismewhoamI?

Soon though, everything just stopped, and faded into utter darkness.

Mr. Mason felt cold. She didn't survive. How didn't she survive? Did he do something different? He checked her insides for an autopsy. It seemed that her manalines opened up too much, as if they were...

No. How would they already be open?

Then how did he literally melt her insides at the lowest intensity?

No other way.

She had none of her manalines open when he met her, but she had somehow opened them before.

He had killed one of his own, with the creation that was supposed to help them.