Prologue: A Spiteful Retaliation

"Do what you want with the bitch," said Alice Doxer, the buxom, blonde popularity queen of Dainsworth High. Hugs and smiles to those she liked, White Witch to the outcasts and those whom she felt had slighted her. "Everyone knows God hates dykes and fags."

Oh yeah, and she hates gays too, thought Elle Hamilton, a petite teen in slender glasses and androgynous, nondescript clothing, as she glanced grimly at the two burly jocks. She recognized them from the football team. She cursed herself for her timing. What rotten luck she'd encountered Queen Bitch and her goons on the way to the bathroom.

Presently, the goons stepped slowly towards her, and as she edged back nervously, she repeated in her head, Must never use it to harm another. Must never use it to harm another. Must never...

Elle's hands started to give off the faintest glow as her control over her powers slipped. Just then, though, a voice called out behind the goon squad.

"Alice Doxer! Chad Farnes! Tony Argoz!... Elle Hamilton," the voice concluded. Oh, great. Mr. Wormwood knew everyone's names. The janitor seemed a bit irritated as he pushed the wide mop down the hall. "Just what are you doing out of class?"

"Using the restroom, sir," Elle was quick to reply, certain that Alice would've said something highly incriminating. "Alice and her friends just stopped to say 'hi.'"

"Fine," Wormwood grumbled. "You three, get back to class. And you hurry up! If you aren't gone when I'm back in one minute, I'll see the lot of you in detention!" With that, he pushed past them towards the end of the hall. Chad and Tony had already split, far more fearful of the faculty and for their precious positions on the team than of displeasing Alice.

Alice stepped forward and grabbed the neck of Elle's hoodie. "You got lucky today, dyke," she growled. "You think you're so clever, always hiding in the crowd... well, there'll be another day like this, and I can promise you any friend you might bring along with you'll get hers with you."

Elle only smirked. The faint glow around her hands had never truly faded. Magic was not chanting as one might think, but rather, a manifestation of will and intention. Words had not been used since the Dark Ages, for not only were they too limited a medium for channeling, but they also gave rise to a rather large scare in England, so she had heard. But presently, one hand twitched, and she stuck out her middle finger at the ground.

"I don't need a friend, bitch, for your information," she said flatly. Alice scowled, but she continued. "Neither do I need the cover of strangers. But since you were so kind as to greet me in the hall, I ought to give you a little present." With that, she brought her middle finger forward and rubbed the crotch the blonde's jeans. Her smirk grew wider as she felt the power channel through her hand. When she'd had it, she'd had it.

Alice responded with a horrified "Ugh!" and threw Elle back. "Fucking sick dyke!" Her face contorted with disgust as she considered her next words, but apparently there were none hateful enough for Elle, and she stormed away. Elle sat there with a thoughtful look, fantasizing of the things that would come of her little spell as she watched Alice's sexy ass disappear around the corner, until the sweeping sound of Mr. Wormwood's mop echoed down the hall. She quickly got up and headed for the girls' room.

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