The Underground Academy: Augustus Herbert (Part 1)

It was a perfectly dull day in the life of Augustus Herbert—full of studies and people. Abiding at the Underground Academy for Young Men could be horribly boring, despite the scent and hum of the underlying supernatural. The Underground Academy taught its young attendees to control the power that was bestowed on them—with needles and syringes—when they were taken from their homes.

   Augustus Herbert had been experimented on for twelve years before his “superpower” had been perfected. Hypnosis was a rare gift in the Academy—in fact, most mental gifts were. It required million in medicines and potions, years of therapeutic, repetitive training, and a high chance of death.

     Somehow, Augustus had survived with the small loss of the use of his legs, confining him to a gleaming silver wheelchair.

     He wheeled down the hall of the Academy, greeting his fellow pupils with a slight nod and a quirky smile.

     Thomas Jensen fell into step next to him, his arms overflowing with papers and odd books—nothing unusual for him. Thomas had a ridiculous memory—a side effect of his superpower of predicting future events—and could perfectly recite anything he had previously read. Rereading wasn’t an option, so over the years, Thomas’s literary choices had become strange, odd, and questionable.

   “Auggie,” he greeted, his slight English accent tainting his words with authoritative sophistication, though Thomas was anything but sophisticated.

      “Thom.”

      “Do you have a class?”

      “Yes.”

      “Which one?”

      “Criminal Evaluation.”

     Thomas halted mid-step, shock dashing across his sharp features. “But… isn’t that a villain study?”

      “Yes.”

      “So the Board still hasn’t decided?”

      “Nope.”

      “Man…” Thomas said under his breath. He had been bestowed hero status by the time he was ten. His power was easily classified as a potential for saving the world.

“Do you ever feel like…” Thomas paused, pondering his next words carefully, as he always did (though never carefully enough), “like you don’t belong yet? Because you’re not a hero or a villain yet?”

      Augustus halted abruptly, his chair rolling to a slow stop.

     “Sorry, was that too much? I mean, you obviously don’t feel out of place—you have every friend you could want and you only have to point at a girl you fancy and she’s yours. There’s no way you could feel out of place. Right?”