I don’t think.
Just react.
Before I even realize it, my fist connects with Frederick’s freckled face. A crunch sounds, followed by a spray of blood as my knuckles crash into his stupid fucking nose. He flies over the back of his chair and tumbles onto the floor.
I get up, chest heaving, and squat down next to him. My fingers wrap around his chin, and I angle his head up, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t you ever, ever, say her name again, Freddy. Next time it crosses your lips, your nose won’t be the only thing that’s broken.” I shove him aside and walk back to my seat, ignoring the many shocked faces looking my way.
My classmates aren’t used to seeing me angry. They are used to the docile Karston, the one who hides from any and everyone he possibly can. The Karston that lingers in the shadows, using my power of invisibility, wanting to observe but not be seen.
But something has changed inside me. A fire has been lit, and my need for Hadley fuels it, stokes it, causing my skin to almost steam from the burn.
“Well that was an interesting way to start class today.” My attention is pulled to Mr. Dawson—the teacher for guise of ghosts. He stands in front of his desk, arms folded over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other. His blue eyes twinkle with knowing.
I’ve always liked Mr. Dawson. He reminds me of a friend of mine back on Earth. He’s easy to talk to and a great teacher, soft spoken but earns the respect of his students.
And?
He doesn’t like Frederick either.
“Frederick, why don’t you head on over to the hospital wing and have that nose looked at,” Mr. Dawson orders, while watching old Freddy pick himself up off the floor. “No sense in having you bleed all over my classroom.”
Frederick nods and dematerializes. “Have fun, Freddy,” I whisper just before his head slips into the floor.
Serves him right.
Fucking bastard.
Mr. Dawson turns and heads behind his desk, his bald head gleaming in the light. “Now,” he says, sitting in his chair, “today I will be teaching you one of the most important lessons you will learn as third-years—the art of reminition.”
“Reminition?” Connor asks from the front row. As the youngest of our class, he rarely speaks up, letting the older students ask all the questions, but even he can’t help himself.
“Yes,” Mr. Dawson says nodding. “Similar to premonition that Guardian Angels receive, which allows them to look into the future, reminition allows you to see into the past.”
“Like memories?” Clara, a portly woman in her late fifties, asks.
Mr. Dawson nods. “Exactly like them. Now, not all of you will be able to wield this gift. There are few who can. But for those of you who do possess the propensity to use reminition, it can be very useful.”
Reminition?
My thoughts start to race, thinking of all the minds I could read, memories I could live through others. Maybe someone out there knows something about the Darkness, something that can help me find Hadley and defeat the Darkness possessing her.
“How does it work?” Clara inquires, her head cocked to the side with interest.
“First,” he says, standing back up, “you need someone to practice on.” At that, a knock sounds on the door. “Come in.”
I turn around to face the back of the room and watch the door swing open. Several Dearly Departeds enter the room and join their mentors. My heart sinks, knowing Hadley won’t be joining me, knowing she’s trapped somewhere, body and mind, with the Darkness leeching off of her like some malicious parasite.
No longer interested in practicing, I swivel back to the front of the room, cross my arms, and stare mindlessly out of an arched window.
“Need a partner?” a shy voice chimes from my left. I look up and see a DD I don’t know but have seen around the grounds before—Frederick’s DD. She’s young, no older than fifteen or sixteen, and pretty in a natural kind of way, with dark black hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose.
“Sure,” I respond. “Let me grab you a chair.” Standing, I head towards the extras piled in the back of the classroom and bring one next to my desk.
She sits down on it. “Thank you. I’m Gretchen.”
“Karston,” I reply, holding out my hand. She carefully places hers in mine, but as we shake hands, her grip on my palm tightens to the point of pain. I look up at her, about to ask her what the fuck she is doing, when something flashes in her eyes, something that makes the pit of my stomach clench in fear.
I’ve seen those dead eyes before, only a few hours ago, when Hadley tried to kill us all.
It’s the Darkness.
And it’s inside this girl right fucking now.
“Keep calm, Karstonnnnn.” Gretchen’s voice is now two octaves lower than it should be, her face contorting into an unnatural sneer. “Let’s play a little game.”
“Class, may I have your attention please,” Mr. Dawson calls, interrupting the cruel creature trying to break my hand. “To properly perform reminition, you must face the individual you want to read and place your hands on their body. The sides of the head will give you the best opportunity to read them, as inside their brains lie the memories you wish to see.”
Gretchen’s face sneers into something terrifying, something otherworldly. A normal person couldn’t stretch their lips so wide, showing off every bright tooth in their mouth. “Come on Karssy, grab my face, see what lies inside my mind.”
The Gretchen-Darkness creature releases my hand, and I clench my fist, trying to bring the blood back into my numb fingers.
I have to do this, for Hadley, though the thought of looking inside the mind of the Darkness makes my whole body shudder.
With shaking hands, I place my palms against the creature’s temples, just like Mr. Dawson is doing to the DD before him. He glances around the room. Once satisfied that we are all in the proper position, he continues. “Next, you need to concentrate. Think about materializing inside your subject’s mind, similar to how it feels to walk through the body of another, but this time, you enter their mind.”
My face hardens, and I meet Gretchen’s gaze, watching as her skin loses color and her eyes turn black as onyx. It’s like looking into the soul of the Devil himself.
Shudder.
“Now, remember. Not all of you possess the power of reminition. Only those more gifted have what it takes to jump into the mind of another,” Mr. Dawson calls. “When you’re ready, speak the word ‘reminesious.’ If you have the gift, you will enter their mind. Eventually, you will be able to control which memories you wish to see, but for today, any will do.”
“Come on, Karssy. See what lies in my head,” the Darkness encourages, its otherworldly voice echoing in my ears.
Finding my resolve, I force myself to close my eyes and speak clearly. “Reminesious.”
Immediately, I feel a pull in my gut, followed by a nauseating, spinning motion, like I’m tumbling down the side of the tallest mountain, unable to stop myself. But just as it started, the churning stops, and an icy sensation trickles through my body, making me shudder with unease.
I open my eyes, but it’s not the classroom, or Gretchen for that matter, that I see.
It’s Hadley.