000. A VERY SPECIAL GIRL.

PROLOGUE
a very special girl

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SMOKE CURLED FROM a cigarette pressed between lips of cherry-red, and a head of white curls settled underneath a midnight-black hat. As a perfectly manicured hand grasped onto the gun in her coat pocket, she made her way to the house, her body thrumming with adrenaline. Ever since the anomalies had first lit up the Infinite Switchboard, she'd been curious, questioning what they each had in common. Quick research had proven two things—one, all of the anomalies were born to mothers who had not been pregnant the minute before giving birth, and two, they all possessed extraordinary powers. Powers that she was very interested in getting her hands on.

Since that discovery, she'd made it her mission to seek these anomalies out. It was harder than she'd thought it would be, though, and at the moment, she'd only successfully acquired one. But while that girl had been a cinch to pick up—her agent was efficient, even at his age, and best of all, he didn't ask too many questions—she knew the second time around would be trickier. It wasn't like she could forge another assassination order. One may have gone under the radar of the employees at the Commission, but a second—especially since it was another pair of people who were mostly innocent—was going to raise some eyebrows, even with the fake seal she'd secured. So, instead of playing the same hand a second time, she decided she needed a new strategy. Which was why she was on this mission today: to take her first look at the target, and discern the method she'd use to procure her in the future.

The other one, with her eyes of steel, had been left behind. She was a fascinating creature, that girl, and had begun her training mere weeks after arriving at the Temps Commission. She'd shown a particular aptitude even back then, and now, three years later, she was proving to be extraordinarily gifted. Hopefully, her new sister would, as well.

(And hopefully, she'd be an anomaly that could be distinguished—it had been three years, and what about the other girl that had made the Infinite Switchboard go haywire had still not been discerned.)

The corners of her perfect lips turned up as she approached the front door. This was the right house. She'd checked the file three times before she'd taken up the briefcase and made her way to 1996. At this point, the address was practically engraved into her mind.

She raised one fist to knock, letting the other tighten around the handle of her gun. Then she waited, her heart pulsing with anticipation. She tapped her foot impatiently.

Fortunately, it only took twenty-two seconds (she counted) before the doorknob began to turn. Two seconds after that, and the door was swinging open. Quickly, she let go of the gun, bringing both of her hands in front of her. Because there, standing in the doorway, was exactly who she was looking for.

It was a young girl, tall for her age, wearing a pink sundress that fell to her knees. She had blonde hair that skimmed the tops of her shoulders, though sections of it were pinned back with clips. A Hello Kitty bandage adorned one elbow, her nails were painted purple, and she was wearing a pair of light-up shoes. Her thin limbs resembled bird bones, but the rosebuds of her cheeks instead put a porcelain doll to mind. She was seven years old, and she was exactly who the stranger was looking for.

"Qui êtes vous?" she asked hesitantly, gripping on the doorknob so tightly her knuckles bloomed white. She was so young and delicate that it was difficult to believe she was one of the anomalies, but upon looking closer, the stranger caught a spark of defiance in her eyes, a furious fire that raged on in the blue. It was exactly the spark the stranger wanted to see.

Who are you? That was what the anomaly had asked, cute as a button. Even with that defiance in her eyes, the stranger realized it would be easy to underestimate her. Good. She would be a valuable asset, then.

When the stranger took too long to respond, the little girl narrowed her eyes. A frown edged onto her lips. "Papa dit que je ne suis pas censé parler à des inconnus." Papa says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers.

"Pourquoi as-tu ouvert la porte alors, poppet?" the stranger asked. The French flowed easily from her lips; at this point, she spoke so many languages that sometimes it was difficult to keep track of them all. Her tone was saccharine, practically dripping with sugar. What was that expression? You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. It wouldn't do to frighten the child off before she'd gotten what she'd wanted. Why did you open the door then, poppet?

The anomaly puffed up her cheeks. "Je pensais que tu étais maman. Parfois, elle oublie ses clés." I thought you were Mama. Sometimes she forgets her keys. After a moment, she added, "Quand je la laisse entrer, elle m'appelle sa fille miracle. J'aime ça, alors parfois, je les prends." When I let her in, she calls me her miracle girl. I like that, so sometimes I take them.

Bingo.

The stranger tilted her head. "Votre maman n'est pas à la maison?" Is your Mama not at home?

"Non, elle et mon papa sont sortis." No, she and my daddy are out.

"Hm." The stranger pursed her lips. "Que est ton nom, ma chérie?" What's your name, dearie?

The anomaly's grip got tighter on the doorknob, turning her knuckles into white stars. She took in a shaky breath, then said, "Papa dit que je ne suis pas censé parler à des inconnus," she repeated. "Il dit qu'ils pourraient être dangereux." Papa says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. He says they could be dangerous. Then she hesitated, looking the stranger up and down. "Êtes-vous dangereux?"

Are you dangerous?

The stranger smiled and tipped her hat. "Extrêmement. Mais pas à toi. Je veux t'aider, en fait. C'est pourquoi je suis venu." Extremely. But not to you. I want to help you, actually. That's why I came.

"Aidez moi? Avec quoi?" Help me? With what?

The stranger kept her voice feather light as she spoke, friendly. It was easy to play the part of someone truly kind. She'd done it hundreds of times, now. "Vous êtes une fille très spéciale, n'est-ce pas? Vous pouvez faire des choses que les autres ne peuvent pas faire?" You are a very special girl, aren't you? You can do things that others can't?

"Euh..." the anomaly seemed unnerved. The stranger could see her shy ever so slightly away from the door. A pang of regret went through her. She wished she'd come earlier. Perhaps, if the girl had been younger, she'd be more trusting. More willing to follow her to the ends of the Earth.

But it had been simpler this way. To have the girls be the same age. That was what the other wanted, anyway. She'd said it would be like having a twin. Because the girl had wanted for so little, and because she'd been so well-behaved, the stranger had allowed it. After all, they did have the same birthday.

Still, she was beginning to regret listening to a seven-year-old.

She thought this might be the end of their interaction, at least for the moment, but then, to her surprise, the girl spoke again. "Ma mère n'aime pas ça quand je le fais. Elle m'appelle un monstre. Un demon. Toutes sortes de choses." My mama doesn't like it when I do. She calls me a monster. A demon. All sorts of things.

"Et que pouvez-vous faire?" And what can you do?

The girl's eyes widened. "Vous voulez voir?" You want to see?

"Je fais. Peux-tu me montrer?" I do. Can you show me?

The anomaly nodded, albeit a little hesitantly. "J'ai encore du mal avec ça," she said, letting her eyes drift shut. A crease appeared between her brow, and the stranger could see her fists curl and uncurl, likely unconsciously. "Je ne peux pas pratiquer à la maison ou maman se met en colère." I still have a hard time with this. I can't practice at home or Mama gets angry.

"C'est très bien," said the stranger. "Vous n'avez pas besoin d'être parfait." It's okay. You don't have to be perfect.

"D'accord." Okay.

It took one minute and thirteen seconds after that for the stranger to realize something was happening. There was the slightest hum of electricity around her, so faint it was almost unnoticeable. Her mouth, which had tasted like cigarette smoke, began to be tinged with something metallic, like copper. Based on the lightness of the shift, the stranger knew that few people would've noticed these slight changes. But the stranger had trained herself to become aware of these sorts of things.

She smiled. It was a genuine smile this time, differing greatly from the phony grins she'd given the anomaly. This was exactly what she wanted.

Then... it all stopped. The stranger could've sworn she'd seen the faintest of blue lights appear between the anomaly's eyebrows, but perhaps it had just been a trick of the light. The girl let out a tired gasp, forehead beading with sweat. As her ruddy cheeks began to turn even redder, her eyes flew open. Her mouth immediately twisted into a disappointed frown.

"Je ne peux pas—je ne peux pas le faire," she said breathlessly, looking down at her shoes. She worried the bottom of her lip between her teeth, her hands still squeezed into those fists. "Je suis désolé."

I can't do it. I'm sorry.

"Ça va," said the stranger, though she, too, was disappointed. Clearly, the girl needed more training. "Pourquoi tu ne me dis pas simplement ce que tu essayais de faire?"

It's okay. Why don't you just tell me what you were trying to do?

"J'essayais de te faire voir mon poisson de compagnie," the anomaly replied, wiping her brow. Her perfect, delicate image had become marred by the strain on her face. "Son nom est Marvin. Je l'ai eu pour mon anniversaire." I was trying to show you my pet fish. His name's Marvin. I got him for my birthday.

The stranger blinked, and the girl must have seen the confusion on her face, as she quickly elaborated. "Je peux vous faire voir des choses qui n'existent pas. Je ne suis pas très doué pour ça, alors je m'entraîne avec de vraies choses, comme Marvin. Mais je pense qu'avec de la pratique, je n'aurais pas besoin de choses réelles. Je pourrais vous faire voir un vaisseau spatial, ou un super-héros." I can show you things that aren't there. I'm not too good at it, so I train with real things, like Marvin. But I think that with practice, I wouldn't need real things. I could show you a spaceship, or a superhero.

"Intéressante," the stranger murmured. It was an understatement. This was certainly more than interesting—it was thrilling. This was... well, this was everything she'd wanted and more.

She needed to pursue this further. She definitely would. Just not today. Today, she'd return to the Commission, and begin formulating a plan. Today, she'd do more discreet research, especially on the girl's family, and find a way to bring her home.

"Est-ce magique?" the anomaly asked, when another thirty-one seconds had passed. Her lip-chewing had become more frenzied, and the stranger had to resist the urge to tell her to stop. She was going to have a very painful sore soon. "Qu'est-ce que je peux faire?" Is it magic? What I can do?

The stranger knew what the anomaly wanted to hear. She was like all other children, after all, and wanted to believe that there was more to the world than what met the eye. So, she nodded. "Nous sommes tous un peu magiques," she said, relishing the way the girl leaned forward, eyes wide. "Mais vous semblez l'avoir en abondance."

We're all a little magic. But you seem to have it in abundance.

The anomaly grinned, showing rows of perfect white teeth. The stranger smiled, too, then stepped away from the door, ever so slightly. "Eh bien, je devrais y aller."

Well, I should get going.

"Oui," said the anomaly, the girl, the prize. The stranger nodded again, and began to turn away. Before she could step off of the porch, however, the girl called out again.

"Nadine," she said. The name rolled off her tongue beautifully. "Je m'appelle Nadine."

Nadine. My name is Nadine.

The stranger turned back. Regarded the anomaly once more. Nadine, she'd said. It really was a lovely name, fit for a lovely girl. Oh, she couldn't wait to bring her home.

She folded one hand over the handle of her gun. Her smile returned. "Appelez-moi The Handler."

Call me The Handler. 

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HAVEN: 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ welcome to paramnesia, everyone!! i've rewritten this prologue at least three times, and, just like the prologue for ignis fatuus, i'm not 100% sure if i like it or not. oh well!! it's posted!! i hope you enjoy!! let me know what your thoughts are!!

currently, i am still in the process of writing this fic, so i don't have an update schedule. i think i might start updating fairly frequently when i finish act one, but i'm not completely sure. i hope you'll stick with me regardless!!

thanks for reading <333

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