Hermina was born on the road, the daughter of two gifted parents. Her mother, Gemma, was a psychic, and her father, Ronson, was a musician.
They traveled the roads in their covered wagon as part of a caravan of entertainers who brought their gifts to rural bergs across Europe.
Also among their band were other musicians, dancers, a knife-thrower, a strong man, a bearded woman who did an aerial routine with her pigeons (the pigeons flew, she didn’t), and a Shakespearean thespian.
Right away Gemma knew that Hermina, or Mina as she called her, was special. Sometimes at night, when all were sleeping, she’s look over at the cradle and see that Mina’s hands were glowing with a soft orange light. She noticed when tiny Mina grabbed her finger that a tingling energy was felt. Being a patient woman, Gemma waited and smiled, as she knew whatever this power was would add to their coffers, which meant their beloved way of life on the road would continue.
By the age of three, Mina was able to warm up her parents’ coffee by touching their cups for a few seconds. By the age of five, she was able to disintegrate a giant bubble in what appeared as slow motion. By the time she was ten, Mina had a well-practiced act and was ready to perform it in front of the audiences.
One night a scientist named Victor was in the audience. Victor had been experimenting with animating corpses he’d pieced together from bodies he obtained from various sources and means. When he saw what Mina could do, he knew she was the answer to his success.
End of Part 1
Fandango is the host of Fandango’s Flash Fiction. I’m not able to keep up with the daily FOWC, but I’m going to try to start doing this weekly prompt and see if it is doable.
The image is from AFP/Getty Images.