Kashif

Kashif was supposed to be at a party that Saturday. In fact, it was a party that he had meticulously prepared for: worked out earlier in the day to give his already sizable upper body a bulging look, trimmed his beard and shaved his upper lip, dressed in his finest (including a brand new dark/light green striped hoody), used a little of his favorite cologne, and brushed his teeth twice. He had gone to all the trouble because there was supposed to be a girl at the party that he had a major league crush on; one who had flirted with him before. Tonight he was out to get her number and maybe, if he played his cards right, a goodnight kiss. Clothing optional.

The party was at his friend Anthony’s house. Anthony and his two roommates were moving out the following week, meaning tonight’s party would be a don’t-miss event, complete with multiple kegs and a local band that was on the verge of going mainstream. Kashif had been looking forward to it all week.

He wasn’t at the party because right before he left to head over, around 10:30 pm, he had gotten a call from Anthony saying that the cops had just come and gone on a noise complaint. Everyone was gone.

Including the girl, who had been there.

Kashif was beyond furious. Angry at himself for not going earlier, angry at the cops, angry at fate. He tossed his car keys onto his bed and stalked into the bathroom to wash the gel out of his black hair. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment, angry that he looked so damn good and that it was all for nothing.

Kashif, a 26-year-old computer technician, has the same dark golden skin and coal black hair as his little brother Raphael. The tallest of all the Chosen, standing at 6’5”, he’s handsome in a brooding, dangerous kind of way, and he always has a challenge in his stare. He never fights, though. Not for lack of trying, it’s just that nobody really wants to mess with him. Not surprising, given how much time he spends in the gym.

Kashif needed an outlet for his stormy mood or he was going to go crazy. He slammed down a beer and drove a half hour to a batting cage.

The place had closed at ten, but one of his buddies worked there. The friend, who was just finishing cleaning up for the weekend when Kashif arrived, agreed to let him in for a couple hours after Kashif slipped him ten bucks and a beer. By 11:45 he was smashing baseballs to the furthest reaches of his cage.

Unfortunately, rather than decreasing his anger, hitting baseballs was building on it. What he really wanted was to be able to see how far he was hitting the balls; the fact that they were being caught by the cage only fifty feet away was more than irritating, given his state.

PAUSE

An angel dropped down through the top of the cage and landed light as a feather next to Kashif. He stared critically at the emotions etched in Kashif’s eyes and the way his mouth was pinched together in concentration. Briefly he glanced forward on Kashif’s time line, saw the next potential decision (which is about as far forward as we can look), and sighed. The angel came back to the present, shook his head, and turned on the soon-to-be villain’s ability. Then he vanished without so much as a puff of smoke for theatrics.

PLAY

The machine spat out another ball and Kashif, feeling incredibly powerful, leaned in and smashed it as hard as he could. The bat exploded. The ball shot like a bullet through the cage and out into the night. And Kashif’s right shoulder popped out of its socket so hard it nearly tore off.

Kashif let out a small grunt in shocked surprise and fell to his knees, left arm clutching at his right shoulder, where his right arm was dangling uselessly.

The commotion brought his friend outside to make sure everything was ok. He sped over to his fallen friend, quickly ascertained the situation, figured he knew what to do by watching it done in movies, reached down, and attempted to pop Kashif’s shoulder back into place. He did it wrong.

Kashif screamed and batted his friend away with his good left arm. The guy was thrown to the edge of the cage and bounced off of a fence, while Kashif’s wrist nearly broke from the strength he exerted.

Through the blackness that was threatening to overcome his senses, Kashif realized in a dim way what had happened to him, and attempted a last desperate act. He grabbed his right arm and twisted it upwards, trying not to do it too hard. It popped back in and Kashif passed out.

Teeny

There’s not much to add to Teeny’s origin. You all know Nathan’s viewpoint, and Teeny’s wasn’t much different. The only thing worth commenting on is this: Teeny was lying when she said Nathan was her boyfriend, but it wasn’t because she wasn’t attracted to Josh. She was, right away. But Teeny was so used to having guys hit on her that the lie came out automatically, despite her wishing immediately she had said something different. When Josh called her on it, she was too proud to admit that yes, he did have an effect on her. Too late now, though. The lines have been drawn.

Well, that’s everyone, and I think the stage has been set pretty well, if I do say so myself. My apologies if the introductions dragged on a bit, I just wanted to ensure that you were as well informed as possible. I’ll let you read the rest of it for yourselves as I’m sure the narration will only get in the way of the story to come.

***

Read the rest of the story: Part I introduces our heroes and villains. In Part II, plans unfold, and in Part III the story erupts into battle. In the epic battle that unfolds, who will be victorious?