The Dark Side of Eleanor Warwick

The recess area outside of Belmont Day School was buzzing with activity.

Privileged children of various ages ran and played and horsed about and generally enjoyed the carefree days of youth. Some of the older kids, far too cool and mature to frolic, had gathered on or near the picnic tables that dotted the area. One group was particularly large.

Adrian Blackwell casually leaned against a large tree that provided shade for one such meeting place. He was tall and well-defined for his age. A blue blazer, adorned with the crest of the preparatory school, hung on his frame as if he had been born to wear it. He looked around as if he owned all he surveys.

All around him, boys and girls strived for his attention in equal numbers. Some wanted to be his best friend. Others wanted to be his girlfriend. Some just wanted to be near him, to be seen in his proximity. Some were angling to meet his sister, who attended a different, all-girls school. A sharp look quickly ended such inquiries.

Oh, how he loathed each and every one of them.

As the rabble performed tricks for their indifferent ringmaster, Adrian stared past them, not even bothering to pretend to care. Many of the youngsters were from well-connected families. A few were even wizards like him.

Still, he ignored them.

Some of the girls that came around were quite pretty. He was a young man in the bitter midst of puberty, so of course he would notice them. But notice was the best they could hope for.

On that day, they too were ignored.

He stared across the grounds to one of the doors leading into and out of the school building. Occasionally, he looked to the street that ran alongside the campus, to one of the numerous town cars that awaited their spoiled young cargo. Glancing back to the doors, he found them opening.

Small children rushed through. The pre-kindergarten class was letting out. Adrian came off the tree and scanned the screaming horde. Coming out in the back of the group was a tiny, raven-haired girl. She hopped along with a small backpack bouncing up and down on her back. When she glanced around and spotted Adrian, Jessica Blackwell smiled broadly and rushed toward him.

The teensiest, tiniest smile edged his lips. He would never allow anything more. He watched his little sister charge toward him with reckless abandon. As she crossed the yard, Jessica ran near a group of boys throwing around a football. A pass sailed over one of the player’s heads. He leaped into the air and snagged the pigskin with remarkable athleticism. However, as he came down, his hip struck Jessica squarely in the side of the head.

With a shocked shriek, she flopped to the grass and burst out in a fit of crying. The boy steadied himself and stared down at her. “Hey! Watch where you’re going, kid!”

When the young man turned around, he was startled to find the girl’s brother standing nose-to-nose with him. Adrian cleared close to 20 yards in the blink of an eye. The player withered under a hard, ferocious glare. “Oh, shit,” he managed. “Adrian. I- I’m sorry, man. I didn’t...” His pleads faded away as Adrian stepped past him, intentionally clipping his shoulder as he did.

Adrian kneeled beside Jessica but ignored her open arms. “You’re all right. Get up.”

“B-but...” she whimpered.

“But nothing,” he answered in a calm, but firm voice. “You are a Blackwell. Get up.”

With a sniff, Jessica rose and adjusted her backpack. Adrian dusted off her skirt and smoothed out her dark hair. Rising, he gestured to the street. “Go to the car. Gerald is waiting to take you home.”

Before she walked away, Jessica suddenly threw her arms around his waist. Grumbling, Adrian held his arms out to his side. After a moment, he sighed and patted her on the head. “Okay, enough. Go get in the car. I’ll see you later.”

Jessica looked up and smiled a beautiful smile she would not lose with age. She then resumed her run and made it quickly to the car and its waiting driver. He watched her go before turning to face the player once again. The affection, such as he could manage, washed from his face and a slight sneer marred his features.

The player whimpered as he noticed his friends had suddenly realized they had things for which they were late. Adrian approached him and slipped off his blazer. He tossed it aside, assuming someone would catch it, and indeed someone did. Slowly, Adrian unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Adrian, man, it was an accident!”

“You can run if you like,” Adrian answered casually as he removed his tie, “but I will catch you. And it will be much worse.” The player hesitated for a moment, before turning and fleeing. “Have it your way,” Adrian said calmly.

The player managed about 10 steps before a rough grasp clutched the back of his collar and whipped him backward, slamming him to the ground. Tears were in the boy’s eyes when he looked up at him. Adrian stared down with obvious contempt.

“No one, not one soul on this fucking planet, touches a Blackwell without paying a price.”

“Please!” the boy squealed, but Adrian paid him no mind. He balled up his fist and drove it down again and again. Only his natural strength powered the assault, but as the player’s face would tell in days to come, it was more than enough.