Chapter Text
1) The first time they meet it's in an illegal underground club for humans only. Chanyeol, being a mutant, sneaked in using optical contacts that all mutants used to hide the unusual color of their eyes. Minseok, using the same tactics, was already in the club searching for the unlucky person whose photo was given to him. Chanyeol was also there for similar purposes, but a different face. It's fairly common to find mutants slither their way into human only places, but it is rare to see two mutants from opposing houses be in one place. And everyone, humans and mutants, know to clear the area when fire and water meet because nothing will be left after the steam vanishes.
=Chanyeol=
“You're clear. Next!” The security guard shouts, retracting his once wandering hands and blinding flashlight so that he can assess the next pathetic human.
He could of at least fixed my jacket.
I tug the leather material back into position and walk down the dimly lit hallway that reeks of sewage and mold. I almost feel sorry for my shoes as they step into puddles of a liquid I'm hoping isn't pee. Disguising humans.
There is graffiti on the walls, declarations of people who have been 'here' slathered everywhere and dingy posters to riot against the mutant government. I resist the urge to shatter the flickering light bulb swaying above the grimy metal door. Though it isn't until I'm reaching out for the knob that my body begins to hum with adrenaline. The obnoxious symbol of the anti-mutant movement drilled into the door.
It would be all too easy to burn this whole place to the ground.
The inside isn't any better than the hallway, it still smells terrible and the lighting feels smothered. As if someone put a blanket over a lampshade. The humans don't even look my way as the door screeches shut. Some, I guess, are too drunk or on drugs or maybe a combination of the two.
If the world could take a look at this. This is what you call the superior race? Nothing but a bunch of drugged up lunatics who crave power and would rather start a war than to try and adapt to change. Humankind my ass. There is nothing and will never be anything kind about these blood hungry monsters. But, who doesn't love a bit of red every now and then.
I take a glance at a male slumped over a round table in the corner. A black bottle of mutant prescription drugs toppled over near his head. They hate us so much but our drugs. I never could understand why they like it so much. Yes, the drugs are extremely stronger than a human's, but that was only because it takes a lot to harm our bodies and a lot to heal them. A human's system would shut down if the host took a whole pill.
I wonder...
I examine the male closer, ignoring the light noise of the music and zoning in on his rocky heartbeat. Huh, still alive. What a shame.
My gaze skims over the room, looking for my prey of the night. Nowhere is sight, hopefully I won't have to spend my entire night in this trash bin. Slowly, I make my way to the table where the unconscious man with the pill bottle lays. With a brief push, he tumbles over onto the floor as I take his warm seat.
“What can I get you?” A female voice asks as I try to shove the guy, on the floor, away from my table with the butt of my boot.
“What do you have?” I question, pulling my eyes away from the body under the table to look at the bar and all of the bottles lined up on the shelves. “Any thing strong?”
It's sad that none of their drinks will get me even slightly buzzed. Well maybe after many bottles of straight-pure alcohol, I might feel a bit relaxed but all of that liquid hates my bladder. Plus I'm pretty sure someone would notice and wonder why I'm not on the verge of death.
“We have white rum imported from Jamaica, Balkan vodka and we just got a shipment of absinthe.” Her voice is hoarse as if she was recently crying.
My eyes dart to woman- no girl, studying the dark bags under her eyes, the hard lines of her pale face. She can't be more than eighteen years old and yet she looks to be in her late twenties. I wonder...
I take a glance at her wrists, her hands wrapped around the notepad clutched to her chest. A peek of black ink on the corner of her skin answers my question. She use to belong to a house, but she must of got caught by some rebellious humans. If I were to examine her closer, I'd probably find a brand of an 'X' over the house symbol. I heard their punishments are painful for deviants. Humans are such jealous creatures, if they can't have fun, no one can.
“You carry absinthe?” I question curiously. “Isn't that a bit risky?”
“Well, yeah, but this whole place is.” She says and shifts her weight, which causes me to look down and notice that her left leg is entirely plastic. I guess the punishment rumors are true. “Your order sir?” She grinds out and pulls her left leg behind her right.
“I'll take that.” I say as the guy on the floor grumbles something that sounds like he wants one too.
“I am obligated to inform you that by ordering this drink you understand the effects. You may experience sleeplessness, hallucinations, and convulsions. Would you still like it?” She asks in a rehearsed voice, tapping her foot in boredom.
“Definitely.” I hum.
This happens to be one of my favorite drinks, because three glasses of this straight will get me going. This also happens to be the most mutant preferred drink because of the high alcohol count of ninety-five. Some humans would say that it's weak, but drugstore-brand rubbing alcohol averages ninety-one percent alcohol. So yeah.
This drink is actually banned in the human counties because of what it does to them. It heightens all of their senses to be clear like ours. For a few hours they get to experience life through our eyes. Though not everyone can handle the sudden burst of power. I have seen multiple deaths because of this beverage and those who aren't dead have alcohol poisoning or liver failure. Which practically leads to death.
“I'll be right back with your order.” She turns on her heels and walks away, but I can still hear the squeak of plastic rubbing together with each of her steps.
I lean back in my chair and just watch the world around me. The metal door swings open and two men step in. One has a briefcase and the other is twitching in his own skin. Is that a gun at his hip? That seems like some shady business, but not my guy.
The group of people on the small dance floor are now trailing after the two men, who have just walked through a curtain of beads, leading down another hallway. I wonder what's back there.
I hear a groan from below and notice that I have lean my chair so far back that it's now balancing only on the two back legs. The legs are pressing against the guy's calf, and I'm surprised he can still feel anything. I drop my chair back down to the floor just as the girl comes back to my table with a tray in her hands.
“Here you go.” She says, placing a napkin down on the dirty red tablecloth before plopping down a pontarlier glass[1] on top of it.
She puts the tray down near the edge of the table and grabs the tall black bottle that has two glowing green eyes on the front, the irony. The word absinthe is highlighted in lime green just like the liquid she was currently pouring into my glass. She stops at the edge of the small well shaped bottom and I just want to grab the bottle and fill the whole glass to the brim. The smell is earthy and just a hint of wormwood. Good brand.
After placing the bottle back on the tray she grabs the spoon full of holes and a sugar cube. Balancing the shovel like spoon over the cup, she places the cube on it. Soon she grabs the glass pitcher of water and begins to pour it over the sugar cube until it dissolves. I honestly believe that the water takes away from its nice bitter taste. The green liquid starts to become a cloudy-mint green as the water mixes in. It tastes so much better without this extra crap.
“Thank you.” I say as she packs up her tray. I dig into my pocket and drop a few bills on the tray, more than necessary and I can tell by the way her eyes widen and her body freezes.
She tears her eyes away from the money, “Is that all?” Her voice is splintering out of her throat and I get the feeling that the only time she receives this much money is when she isn't just offering drinks to men. She swallows and her body is slowly starting to tremble as if she is breaking down.
I drag my glass closer to me, “Go.” I shoo her away with a wave of my hand and she scurries in a heartbeat.
Look at me being all nice.
I shake my head with a quiet laugh and look down in time to see a curious hand swipe at my glass. Maybe I did grab his wrist a bit too tightly and scorch his skin with my fingertips, but no one would believe him if he says anything. He should be glad I didn't lite him up. He snatches back his hand with a hiss and I grin in satisfaction as I bring the glass to my lips.
The metal door swings open and-- is that him? Looks like him, Blonde hair? Check. Nose piercing? Yup. Brown eyes? Yes. Birthmark on back of the neck?
He's walking deeper into the club and I put my glass back down as he walks pass. Right there, at the base of his skull in a red birthmark just like in the photo. Time for action, and just when I was getting comfortable. But I will finish this drink first.
I watch him walk through the curtain of beads as my empty glass hits the table. That was just nasty, it tastes just like water. Enough about that, time for business. But how do I get back there?
I stand up and walk over to the bar area as an excuse to study the entrance. A guy practically made of muscles is standing by the beads, no doubt guarding it from unwanted people. I could take him out, but that would probably cause a scene. Next plan? Don't have one, guess I'll just wing it.
There is an empty seat in between a guy and a very petite brunette lady in very tight jeans on the left. The legs on that girl, wouldn't mind running my tongue along those. Just as I slide onto the bar stool, the pretty lady wonders away. Didn't need to get distracted from my main mission anyway.
Running a hand through my hair, I turn my body towards the bar top. My shoulder knocks against something hard and a jolt runs down my spine. I realize that I had hit the guy sitting on my right. With a quick glance in his direction, I can see the guy's body become stiff.
“Hey man, sorry.” I offer as he gives a robot like nod, but keeps his head faced away from me. Odd.
I take a brief second on him, he's nursing a glass of absinthe? It's a brouille glass[2], similar to a standard pontarlier glass, but this one has a funnel like spout built-in. There is a cube of sugar and a few pieces of ice in the funnel, and the ice almost seems to sway with his movements.
The way he ordered it is a more delicate way of mixing the water and sugar with slow drops, instead of just pouring loads of water. Should of ordered that, might have been able to get away with drinking the absinthe straight, just like he was doing. He lifts the glass and when it comes back down the liquid is lower and there is an ice cube missing. I swear I counted five.
His hair is a frosty white with a weird tint of purple and pink. Like the clouds mixed together with the sky at dawn. It's short and combed to the side, it strangely reminded me of a river with how it flowed. My vision is soon blocked by that waitress girl. She's leaning over the bar and trying to flag down the bartender at the other end of the bar.
“Hey Cho!” She shouts and there is a hint of terror in her voice. “Some guys are starting to get handsy.” She's on the very of pleading and it's getting on my nerves. How weak.
The bartender ignores her, I could hear him telling the lady with the tight jeans to do so as well. I guess that explains why I wasn't offered another drink.
There is a low clicking noise, like when you call over a pet, “Come here girly. Don't be shy.” A guy calls.
I turn around on my stool and lean back on my elbow on the bar top. There is a small group of guys, three, sitting around a table full of booze and white powder. There eyes are blood shot red and their pulses are roaring like thunder.
“We just want to have a bit of fun.” Another man yells, his facial hair reminds me of a goat, but I like goats so maybe not like a goat.
The girl next me is slowly starting to tremble and her heart is stuttering. “Leave me alone.” She orders weakly.
Wrong move. She should have just ignored them instead of poke at the lion. Then again, guys like them are predators and once they catch a whiff of fear, they're going to back her into a corner until she breaks. Looks like she already beginning to.
“We'll come to you then.” The guy says, ignoring what she had just said.
As they go to stand, a bottle gets knocked down in the process and spills onto the tile floor with a clatter. Once they're all standing, they take a step forward only to slip onto their rumps. People around the club let out chuckles as the group of guys keep trying to help each other up but fail and fall back down. It's like these guys are trying to walk on ice.
The comedy of the moment dies out pretty fast but the other humans seemed to get a kick out of it. The guys finally give up and just stay on the ground in a huff of defeat. The girl scurries away once again and I turn back towards the bar.
I hear a clink against the counter top, and with a brief look to my right, I see the glass in now empty, well expect for the small piece of dissolving sugar in the funnel. The fingers wrapped around the cup are pale, almost sickly looking. I dart my eyes to the side of the guy's face, since he is now looking up ahead. Even his face is pale or maybe it's lighting. The corner of his mouth is practically curled up and I know he's smirking. Or that could be the way he smiles.
My eyes start to become dry and this is why I hate contacts. Just because our eyes happen to glow a bit shouldn't scare people and contacts are a pain. The fluid around mutant eyes is like acid and it eats at the plastic. At the store, there is an aisle dedicated to this crap. They range from an hour of lasting results all the way to reusable ones, but the reusable contacts are expensive. I don't even understand why mutants want to lower the standards of themselves and want to appear human. But then again, look what I'm doing.
I should have bought the twelve hour pair. I hope that they don't dissolve before I get a chance to meet my target.
I shut my eyes for a second and when I open them, I'm staring into artificial brown eyes. There is that jolt again and then there is a flash of dark blue in the guy's eyes. And I just know that my eyes flash an answering red.
Well look what the cat dragged in, the Water Family.
My mouth begins to taste like mint and suddenly the temperature seems to have dropped. And there is this smell, like a passing breeze. The scent is strong too, like salt water and winter. Disgusting.
The guy growls from deep in his throat and I lift my chin up. The guy's face isn't all that bad, maybe if he gains a bit of color on that pale skin, like my golden tan complexion, he'd be something better to look at. I always assume the whole Water Family looked like a bunch of dolphins, but I like dolphins, never mind they look nothing like each other.
His smirk has completely vanish, and his lips, which are a seashell pink, twist into a hard line. A few strands of his hair fall into his right eye but he just continues to stare at me. It's really bugging me so I help him out like the nice person I am. I reach out a hand, and his jaw clenches with a quiet pop. The glass his hands are coiled around, is nearly frozen. The glass is frosted and I can see, and just as well, hear the cracks trail up the glass like lightening.
I brush the hair back and now the tips of my fingers are numb. I pull my hand back as he raises a challenging eyebrow. With a snap of my fingers, I can fill the heat travel from my chest to warm my fingers up. I throw my own smirk at him and he rolls his eyes.
“I don't have time for this.” He sighs to himself and turns his whole body towards me. “Speak.” He demands, his voice is throaty and flat.
Bossy much?
“I was just in the neighborhood,” I begin but he gives me this look that almost reminds me of someone about to commit murder. “I have business here.” I say and he narrows his eyes as I begin to spin my stool side to side.
A hand snaps in between my thighs and grabs my seat. “Are you going to cause a problem?” He asks with a sneer and my stool is slowly starting to get cold. He looks over his shoulder, at the waitress girl.
Interesting.
“Nope,” I pop out the word with a smile and the hands retracts back to its owner. “Unless you do something for me.” And that earns me a glare. This guy really needs to lighten up. “You know, if you keep frowning your face will freeze like that.” Get it, freeze? He freezes things and you know what, I'm hilarious so there. Though he seems very unamused and frowns more.
“Funny.” He snaps. “I'm not going to help someone like you.” He growls and there is another flash of blue in his eyes.
“Whoa, calm down water-sprite.” I hold up my hands to show him I mean no harm, but his hands are beginning to ball into a fist in his lap. Guessing he doesn't like nicknames, good. “Look at this from my side. You should feel honored someone like me is even asking you for something. I'm pretty sure I top you in the food chain.” And that right there has him shoot to his feet and snatch up the collar of my jacket, pushing himself into my face.
“That's because your kind burned everything down and used the bones of the dead as a ladder.” He snarls, his breath is coming out in smoke, like when you walk out into cold weather. “But we can finished what our ancestors started centuries ago.” His voice is bloodthirsty and his thighs are brushing against my knees. He's pretty short.
“Watch the leather water-sprite.” I hum. “I'm pretty sure the law says to obey a higher ranked mutant order, so you have to help me.” His eyelashes are very nice, they remind me of fans. You know what, he's not that bad looking up close, too bad he's so damn moody.
“That law was voided after the last war you imbecile. Water and fire are now equal with all other houses. Besides we were ranked above you.” He says and now my mind is traveling to weird places. Places where I imaging him on top, if you know what I mean.
“Don't really pay attention to small changes like that.” I shrug my shoulders and his lips part as if he's trying to say something but keeps pressing them together each time.
“There-there was a whole revolution. The treaty between Life and Death mutants – how can you forget about such a huge part of history?” He asks in disbelief and leans back an inch, the grip on my jacket loosens.
“Don't know, don't care. What are you here for?” I throw the question out there because I'm really curious.
His eyes dart all over my face as his hands move to press flat against my chest. “To kill someone.” He really doesn't know how to be subtle or anything. Maybe he's trying to be intimidating.
“Learn to be more mysterious. What if I was sent here to stop you from killing that person?” I ask and he's still staring at me.
“You're not.” He's not asking, not even trying to confirm it. Cocky little water-bug.
“Maybe I am.” I tilt my head at him, I wonder what his eyes look like underneath the muddy brown. “But how would you ever know?”
“Your blood.” He says and my eyes dart down to look at the hands on my chest. “You didn't lie.” Forgot he could do that.
“So straightforward. You gotta learn to build suspense.” I say and reach for his hands but he tears them away just as I'm about to touch them. That usually only happens when I burn people, guess I’m just naturally hot. Get it, whatever that was a good one.
“What are you doing here?” He asks and he sounds like he wants a real answer.
“I'm in the contracting business.” He arches an eyebrow. “Same as you.” I sigh, he's no fun.
“You?” He asks like he doesn't believe it.
“Take a look at yourself.” I say, but then I'm the one taking a look.
Now that I think about it, he's the perfect killer. He has looks that let him blend into a crowd but could also attract people if he wanted to. His small frame is enough to hide and sneak away, but also lets him use the momentum from his attackers against them. The total opposite of me. I'm a hammer, people call me when they want to destroy everything. He's a scalpel, they call him when they want something done cleanly. He's strategy and I'm chaos.
“What do you want?” He asks and smooths out a wrinkle on his white button up shirt.
“Knew you couldn't resist an order.” I grin and fix my jacket, because seriously, is this going to be a thing tonight?
He rolls his eyes, “I've decided you're more useless dead than alive. Though you reek of smoke and coals.” He gets this look, like when children don't want eat their vegetables. “But let me tell you now,” He jabs a cold finger into my chest. “I'm not helping you. I will never help someone from the Fire Family, so don't think I'm doing you a favor. You're just a road bump in my path and I do what I have to, to get by. Got it?” He really doesn't like me, if the constant pokes that seem to give my chest frostbite is any hint.
I nod, “Got it.” But he's not even listening, he's waving over that waitress girl.
She practically flies over here with the enthusiasm of a puppy, but I like puppies, so no. Soon this guy is, huh never got his name, leaning into her so that he can whisper in her ear, but he must of forgot I can still hear.
“Take this money and leave. Don't ask.” He says, pulling out his wallet and shoving a wad of cash into her hand. “Do not look back. Do not come back. Stay away from this place for at least a week. If anyone asks tell them you felt sick and went home.” His voice is soft and caring, and I want to vomit. “Alright?” She nods like a bobble-head.
She points to the bar, “But I need my jacket.” He leans over the counter and stands back up with a brown coat in his hand. “Thank you.” She whispers as she struggles with zipping up her coat.
He pinches her zipper and pulls up, “Go now.” He pushes her gently away, and she spares me a glance and I give a wink. She quickly hurries away, and the guy doesn't look back at me until the metal door shuts behind her.
“I thought you were here to kill someone, not save 'em?” I question.
“And right there, is the difference between the two of us.” He replies but doesn't sit back down.
“But we are the same.” I answer confusingly, both mutants here or am I missing something.
“No your kind only causes death, mine brings life.” He says and this is something I really don't care about.
“Looks like you're about to take one.” It was a low blow, but totally worth saying because his muscles tense and he just sorta of blinks into a daze look. Point me, zero him.
Soon he glares down at his feet,“We persevere worthy lives.” Ouch, point him. “What do you need?” Cuts straight to business, just how I like it.
“Need to get back there.” I point my head in the direction of the curtain of beads. “A distraction would be great.” There goes another flash in his eyes, what did I say?
“A distraction?” He smiles, but it's small, as he folds up his sleeves steadily to his elbow. He actually looks kind of good when he smiles. “It would be my pleasure.” He purrs the words out and I think I might want to hear it again...just to understand how he can change moods so fast, of course.
“Okay. Great.” I stand up from my stool and wow he's really short, but it's a good size I suppose, for very different activities. “Hey, I never got your na-”
The force that slams into the slide of my face catches me off guard as I stumble to the right. What the-- A crunch comes from my chest as I drop to the ground. I think I just broke a rib. What the hell was that?
I lift my head up from the cold tile and look up and around. The people around the club are just staring at me and I want to know what the hell just happened. The sound of footsteps catches my attention and I watch as that water bug comes closer. He did this? Damn he's fast.
“What the hell?” I ask as I pop my jaw back into place, feeling my body begin to heal itself. “That was a cheap shot.” I mutter to myself.
“Distracting.” He says with a satisfied smirk blooming on his lip and that seriously should not be pretty hot because he just kicked my ass but fuck. “Thought this would be harder.” He taunts as he crouches over my body, yanking my head up by my jaw. “Pity.” He says and there is a blood thirsty monster licking at his eyes and I may or may not have a boner. “You're going to need to participate if you want to get back there.” He whispers against my cheek, and when the hell did he get this close. Plus what he said just really sounds dirty and it's messing with my heads. Especially the one down below.
Snap out of it!
“Right. Got it.” I say as he stands up and gestures for me to 'come on'.
I climb to my feet and with a shake of my head, clear my mind. I may not be able to use my power but that doesn't mean I can't play dirty. Though he almost looks too fragile to hit, almost.
His eyes are raking all over me and I know he's trying to see where he can get an in. So I do us both a favor and move first. I swing my left fist at him, knowing he would duck down and when he did I used my right hand to clamp around his throat. His fingers immediately wrap around my wrist, clawing at the skin as I slam him against the bar. His spine perfectly arches over the bar, until half of his back is on the counter top, the tips of his toes scrambling for purchase on the smooth floor.
He hisses out something but I'm too busy focusing on his heartbeat. I mean I don't want to kill the guy...today. The skin of his neck is surprisingly very warm despite my thoughts of his skin being cold. And he keeps trying to wiggle himself away so I pin his body against the bar with my own, and his body is just as warm as his neck. No time for that, but every time he tries to find leverage on the ground, his knee brushes against me in such a sinful way.
“Gross.” He coughs out, guess I was found out.
Inching my face closer, “You haven't seen anything yet.” And he really did just roll his eyes.
I should have seen it coming, but I was too late to stop his elbow from smashing into my nose with an audible snap. Oh that's broken. It's only natural for me to release him and fix my face. After spitting out some blood and wiping any from my lips and chin, I look at him.
“Feel better?” I ask as he straightens up.
“You have no idea.” He says and then lunges forward.
I barely have time to dodge his striking fists, but not the kick to my chest that throws me back and onto a table. The back of my head is wet and I know I just knocked over a glass or two filled with alcohol. Chairs on either side of me are scrapping backwards and if the sound of rushing footsteps are a clue, I'm guessing I should move as well.
I roll off the table and drop to the ground just as his foot slams on top of the table, cleanly splitting it in half. I cringe because that could have been my dick. Clearly he's didn't get the 'don't let them find out we're mutants' memo and it's just plan evil. I think he's really trying to kill me. If I would have known this, I wouldn't have worn my favorite jacket. It really sucks to fight in.
I climb to my knees and he turns towards me, raking the stray hairs away from his eyes with his hand, and oddly his hair looks like it's fully pink, no trace of white in sight. Mood changing hair? The thought doesn't stay very long because he's walking towards me with a flash of blue in his eyes.
I scramble to my feet and throw a powerful punch, which surprisingly connects with his chin... I'm sort of wishing I didn't do that. He's hunching over on a near by table, but soon he's back up and there is a twisted smile on his face.
Crap, not good.
I quickly grab a chair, tossing it up in the air before kicking to him. It zips through the air but he steps to the side before running at me. If he wasn't going to kill me before, I'm sure he will now. I flip the closes table over on its side, but it doesn't even slow him down, in fact it actually helps him.
As he nears the table, he jumps, his foot some how hitting the edge and bringing the table back on its legs, resulting in him standing on the now upright table. I don't even know how he did that, but he's looking down at me with a glare, so I quickly go for the closes thing I can reach, his legs.
I lunge for his ankle and he steps back, but then slams his foot down on my hand. I can hear bones snap and shit that hurts but I quickly block the pain and grab his ankle, yanking him off balance and causing him to fall back on the table. Before I can plan my next move, he kicks me back a few steps, sliding off the table onto his feet.
My mind is racing but I can't find anything useful, so I grab a beer bottle on the table to my right and smash it against the table's edge. I point the jagged part at him, but he's still striding toward me. I charge forward, slicing through the air as he ducks and dodges each one of my attacks, graceful and perfect like a snake.
“Ha!” I blurt when the glass cuts through the front of his shirt, a fresh line of blood poking out.
My victory is over quickly because when I go to strike again, he steps aside and grabs my wrist and flips me onto the floor. The air leaves my lungs in a gasp and the bottle shatters onto the floor next to me. My vision is a bit blurry but after a few blinks I find him examining the damage to his body.
He picks at the slice at his shirt, not even bothering to look me,“You owe me a shirt.” He says so softly, too calmly for a man with a gash on his chest.
It is then that I realize he still has his fingers around my wrist and his grip turns painful. The sound of bones creaking has me pinch my eyes shut just as he yanks and twists my arm. He doesn't break any bones, doesn't rip my arm off. He just sort of has it on the borderline of that. Like he's waiting for something because I know it would be easy for him to probably rip my arm off and beat me with it, but no he doesn't and it's irritating.
No I don't want him to rip my arm off, but to know he has the upper hand, that he could finish this fight if he wants to, gets under my skin. It's like he's sparing my life just so I can live with the humiliation of being bested by a Water Family member. And it's just plain wrong to show pity for an enemy in the middle of a fight after nearly killing me so many times. I think he knows about my healing factor and is doing this to cause me pain because you can't heal anything that isn't damaged and it doesn't fix egos.
I have to steel my nerves because I can feel the fire within me roar and I just want it all to end. I don't like it, knowing my faith lies in someone else's hand like they're a god. And he's just here twisting the living shit out of my arm and I can't do anything but hope he doesn't want to kill me and that thought makes my stomach knot. This all feels like he has a collar around my neck and I know that if I pull I'll just wind up choking myself, but if he pulls I have to follow. I don't fucking like it.
I don't open my eyes as I let out a painful breath, “If you're going to kill me, just do it.” I say because anything else will be a hundred times worst.
“I would love to.” He says dryly but release my wrist.
My eyes snap open and I climb quickly to my feet. I don't give myself a second to breath before I'm swing my hands at him with every thing I have. He's just as fast as me, slipping away with every one of my punches, stepping back as I move forward. My punches are getting closer to his body, his attempts at directing my fist away from him with just a forceful press of his hand is irritating but I know he can't do it that much longer because the bar is a few steps away and soon he'll run out of room.
I decide to stop trying to hit his chest and go for his face. My fist is just inches from his face when he dips all the way backwards, his back arching into a bridge. He's in such a exposed position and I could easily elbow him in the gut but soon he's freaking back-flipping over the bar after kicking me in the jaw. Damn, that's unlined again. I seriously am just thinking about burning this whole damn place to the ground because all this shit hurts and I know he's doing it on purpose. He's not even trying to be careful like I am. Ungrateful.
Carefully I straighten my jaw before the healing factor kicks in, the area throbbing sore. Just because I can heal doesn't me I don't feel the pain of every injury, in fact it's almost twelve times worst. I quickly follow him with my eyes. He's now standing behind the bar, not even looking at me. Rude.
When I try to find what he's looking at, I notice that bar isn't quiet anymore. People are shoving and punching each other, it's like watching a bunch of seals battle. These humans are too drunk to actually fight, but hey it's a good enough distraction because the guard is occupied with wrestling two guys away from each other.
I look back over at the bar and see the guy slide back over counter. He dusts off his pants and then soothes out his shirt even though there is a gash in it and the chest area is stained red.
“You weren't that bad.” I say because I like taunting. “You almost had me there a few times.”
He looks at me from under light eyelashes,“You'd be dead if I wanted.”
I can't help but reply, “Not one mark on me, but you...” I glance at his ruined shirt.
He looks down at the cut like he forgot that he was wounded. He brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it before dragging the finger over the cut. By the time he's finishes, all that is left is a red line of healed skin. Huh, neat trick.
He walks forward, avoiding the rowdy humans and heads for the curtain of breads. I quickly follow after him, reaching him just as he pulls back the beads to step through.
“Thanks but I think I got it from here.” I say and he just shakes his head.
“I have my own business to attend to.” He says, not sparing me a glance before walking into the dim hallway.
I jog after him, “Oh, so you weren't trying to kill me back there, you actually needed my help.” The smug grin on my face is going to be hard to wash away.
He says nothing as he stops in front of a dark red wooden door. Softly, he places his ear against the door as I lean on the grey wall behind him. I drag my eyes over his body, his ass looks pretty damn good in those pants. He clears his throat and pulls my attention.
He looks over his shoulder, “Move.” He says and then looks back at the door, rolling his shoulders.
“But I like the view.” I say and then he kicks the door open, and rolls into the room like an armadillo.
I barely manage to jump out the way as gunshots ring around the hall, bullets cutting through the spot I was recently in. People are rushing out of the room like a flood and by the time the gunshots stop, there is no one else but me in the hallway.
When I walk into the the room, there are chairs and tables knocked over, glasses shattered everywhere, a briefcase full of cash on the floor and the water-bug fighting with a guy that I remember from earlier walking in with that same briefcase. And what do you know, my target Albert, is trying to sneak his way out from the corner.
When he tries to run pass me, I slide out a foot and watch as he trips over it and falls to the ground. Before he can get up, I press my boot down onto the middle of his back, keeping him in place as I turn my attention back to the water bug.
The mutant has managed to get the human's hair in his grasps, using it as a way to force they human's face into his rising knee repeatedly, until blood is gushing out and the human stops fighting. He then releases the human, giving a bone crushing punch to his chest before sweeping his legs from under the man. The human falls to the ground with a cough of blood and water sprite lifts his foot, placing it on the human's jaw and pushing down until a snap echos in my ears, and the human goes limp.
I clap my hands slowly, “Pretty good for a Water Family member.” I say with a smile and he steps away from the dead body, raking his hair back, which has turned back into a silvery white, with a touch of pink.
He digs into his pocket and pulls out a cellphone, quickly dialing a number before pressing it to his ear. “It's done.” He hangs up and then look at me and then at the wiggling body I have trapped under my boot. “Looks like you have your hands full.” He says mockingly with a small smirk.
“What can I do, business is slow.” I shrug.
He shakes his head softy, “That's not the only thing.” He then walks away, “It's been fun, we should do this another time.” He throws over his shoulder, his voice dripping with sarcasm, as he disappears out the door. “Cops are coming soon.” His voice is far away, it would be impossible to hear without mutant hearing.
Good to know.
I look down at my target, lifting my boot so he can turn over on his back, “He's not bad.” I mutter to myself and Albert tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Now, Albert, you've been a very naughty boy.”
[1] pontarlier glass
[2] brouille glass
