ORIGINS, Schuman

“Your ass’ll burn hotter than Satan’s cat with a bad case of the squirts if you eat that!” The old woman looked at her niece scoldingly. “Those things can kill a person, and I don’t give two shits if you die!” The little girl didn’t break eye contact with her and stood defiantly. “Dumb girl, I don’t care what you do.”

Ten year old Angelica Schumann confidently popped the ghost pepper straight into her mouth and started chewing. She didn’t last five seconds before her eyes started watering. Five seconds after that, snot was running out of her nose like a faucet had been turned on. Schuman never blinked or broke eye contact with her aunt. Her face turned beat red but she was determined to show no sign of pain or regret. The pepper tasted awful and was hot as lava, but she swallowed it down knowing she’d triumphed in an epic battle of will against her mean aunt.

“Suit yerself, buttercup,” the aunt said in her southern drawl. “Clean up yer damn snot. You look like a porn queen at cock chuggin’ contest, ya freak.” She was always mean to this little girl, but this particular bit of rudeness made her smile.

Her voice almost didn’t work, but Schuman was able to squeak out, “I’m gonna go play on the swings now.” The little girl smiled resolutely and turned to walk away. Her whole life she’d never shown weakness to anyone before and today wasn’t the day to start. Her head rang, her insides screamed and every part of her tingled. She could barely walk and her vision was blurry, but victory over pain was hers.

For whatever reason, Schuman loved pain. She craved it. It was better than feeling numb.

Several years later, eighteen year old Angelica found herself with a friend at a house party surrounded by a lot of older, very drunk college boys. “Take your shirt off, baby! Show us yer fun bags!” The boys were rude and becoming more aggressive by the minute.

“Let’s get out of here,” said her friend nervously.

“I’ve got this,” Schuman said with an evil grin. “No… I NEED this.” She walked up to the drunk mouthy college boy and said, “if you can kiss me like a man, I’ll give you the show of your life.”

The drunk boy was twice her size. His eyes got big. “You’re on!” He stumbled towards her and reached to put his hands on her waist. “Come here, slut,” he said.

“Oh, I put out alright!” Schuman smiled widely as the boy approached. She reached seductively to grab the neck of his shirt, as if she were going to pull him in for a kiss. Her hands gripped his t-shirt and in one swift move, she pulled him violently towards her. His nose hit her forehead and shattered. Blood went everywhere as the boy dropped howling.

“Too drunk to kiss a girl?” Schuman asked innocently. The drunk boys who were gathered around were processing what had just happened as she grabbed the next boy and swung at his face. The force of the impact knocked his jaw out of alignment and knocked him out instantly. Her fist throbbed from the hit, but the pain made her feel alive. The brawl had begun.

A boy in a letterman jacket dropped his beer and lunged for her. As if by instinct, Schuman ducked while simultaneously rolling out of the way. Before he’d hit the ground, her foot was already blasting into his side since she could react a hundred times faster than her attacker. The sound of broken ribs filled the room as the boy whimpered loudly, “FUCKY!” at the top of his now empty lungs.

A few more rowdy boys tried to lunge at her, all with the same result. As they lay on the ground weeping, the rest of the drunks all intrinsically backed off. She was clearly superior in fighting regardless of the fact that her aggressors were twice her size.

When no one else made a move, Schuman shrugged. “Let’s get out of here,” she said nonchalantly to her friend. The girl was frozen and freaked out, but she followed as Angelica calmly grabbed her by the hand to lead her out the front door.

Schuman walked her friend home and gave her a hug. “You alright?”

The girl was finally able to speak although clearly still scared, both from the situation as well as the violent woman with whom she was talking. “You hit those boys so hard. I didn’t know you could do that. I was so scared.”

“I learned at a young age to never be scared, and it helps that I know how to throw a punch. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but those boys needed to learn a lesson. All that matters is that we’re safe.” Schuman was lying. She wanted her friend to be safe, but she personally enjoyed being in the middle of danger.

The friend said nothing more, so Schuman simply promised to call her the next day to see if she was doing ok. Internally she knew that this friend would probably never want to be around her again after seeing all that violence, but that was ok. Schuman was different than the sheeple in the world. As she walked off, she muttered under her breath, “I gotta get tougher friends.”

Hunger drove Schuman into a late night diner. She stood waiting to be seated but made eye contact with a man sitting alone in a booth. He was wearing a black turtle neck and held a cup of tea with both hands. He nodded at her, then gestured for her to sit across the booth from him. Normally this would a be very creepy since Angelica was only eighteen and he was clearly middle aged, but her instincts told her to sit.

He set his tea down. “That was some serious ass kicking you did at that house party an hour ago. Most impressive indeed,” said the man.

How he knew this or why he was talking about it didn’t matter. “I’ve been treated like shit my whole life, so I guess you could say I’ve learned how to stick up for myself.”

“I’ll say. You’re a natural. My name is Speck, and I’d like to offer you a job that would utilize your… abilities.” The man sipped his tea, then continued matter of factly. “You’ll have plenty of free time to break noses at drunken parties if you like, but I have a feeling you’ll find different… events, that might interest you more than just keg parties.” He grinned. “Like underground fights, perhaps.”

It was as if this man could read her mind. Schuman smiled. “Sounds like something I wouldn’t mind checking out.” She wasn’t scared or creeped out. Somehow, she knew this was her destiny. “I always thought I might be good at fighting. I dream about it sometimes.”

“I’ll bet you dream about it at all times, both when you’re awake as well asleep.” He laughed lightly as she smiled in agreement. He rummaged through his crumpled up coat that was next to him and pulled out an envelope from under the table. He slid it across the table to Schuman and said, “Here’s five thousand dollars to get you to Washington D.C. and directions on where to go once you get there. You report for duty in two weeks. First, you’ll go through basic training. Then, specialized training. I’ll see you again after that with your first assignment.” He sipped his tea as the girl stayed quiet, listening. “You get to beat up bad guys for a living, and I pay really well.”

A waitress brought over a plate of chicken fried steak to their table and set it in front of her. Schuman looked confused as the waitress said, “can I get you two anything else?”

Speck answered, “that’ll be all for now, and thank you.” He turned his attention to a very surprised Schuman and said, “you know how you can visually see when someone is going to throw a punch before it happens? I guess you could say I’m kind of the same way when it comes to knowing when people are going to be hungry. You’ll never be hungry when I’m around, for real.” He nodded to the food then added, “Oh, and I’m also really good at finding people with special abilities that are under utilized. You’ll be working with people that are as gifted as you. Eat up.”

The two of them sat in relative silence as the eighteen year old dug into her plate of food. In the distance, a boy with a pulverized nose vowed to never drink again and from that day forward always treated women with respect.