Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16: CRIMSON TEAR

She was sure this is where she would die. She was sure the ice cold table and tight leather straps would hold her dead, limp body forever. Her fear clung at her heart and tightened her throat, causing each breath to become a whimper. With red vines weaving her body there was little fight she could put up, nor did she have any that still resided within her. It had been drained from every inch of her body as soon as her senses expanded past her feet. The pure shock had led her to easy capture, unable to move a single muscle as her senses ran over the form that rushed at her. Her lips tightened, pulling back to reveal her teeth. The words upon the wall in her home covered her mind.

Do Not Trust The Man You Trust The Most

How could she forget? How could she have been so naive? She struggled weakly against her binds, but the leather straps cut into her red vines and shot pain throughout every nerve. She relaxed as much as she could, her spine pressed against the table and her arms pinned to her sides. She pondered if her current state was reality. If the traitor before her was going to laugh it off and say it was all a test, which she undoubtably failed. Her fear restricted her. Unacceptable and disgraceful, whispered the inner most of her mind. But was she to do? Fight? Kill? The very thought of feeling a loved person's blood against her flesh made her skin crawl; then again, the circumstances weren't normal. Clearly this loved person no longer loved her and her skin had ceased to exist within her current form. Her fight continued seeping from her like a wound as he pulled a table with surgical supplies upon it next to her. Knives, syringes, scissors of all shapes and small, tweezer like supplies sat against the metal top. She swallowed hard, her senses running over the form before her as it approached and reached for her sash that, regardless of its ripped, torn, stiff, and burned exterior, had managed to protect her eyes. The gruff hand ripped it away without a second thought and Katara snapped, pulling the sash from the firm grip. Did he not know what he was doing? A small, mocking smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

“I'm terribly sorry Katara, it seems you've been lied to.” She growled, pulling her lips up tighter, her white teeth flashing. But her growl fell short, her snarl slipped from her features as he spoke the words, “Your eyes will never heal.” He allowed that to sink in, but arrogantly she shook her head roughly; he was lying. She would never believe him. Her reaction caused him to laugh, his smug smirk taking over his features.

“Oh, you don't have to believe me if you don't want to. But we know,” he chuckled, turning to the table of supplies and taking the syringe. “We know.” She stiffened as he ran a hand across her chest, sighing.

“Sadly we will not be able to wait for you to pass out from the serum within this.” he pressed the needle into her neck, forcing her breathing to come to a stop and grope helplessly for air. The liquid pressed into her vines, flowing through the bloodstream that connected each one. When he pulled away she coughed, whimpering.

“Sadly we will not be able to wait for you to pass out..”

Shock reached for her heart, realization dawning on her. Quickly she sent her senses across him as he reached for a knife. She scowled, her tail splitting into several parts and turning to a point out of rash instinct, reaching for his neck. But as the time came to end his life, her hesitation doomed her. Her vines stopped just short, allowing him to turn on a heel and slice the vines from her. She howled in pain, writhing in it as it flooded her like water, engulfing her body. Her claws scratched at the table, her muzzle distorted with pain. He shook his head, a disgusted frown pulling down his face.

“Pathetic. You wasted your last chance.” he smirked, “Though we have found something new. It seems there's a deeper side to you than we had analyzed.” His smirk widened into an all out bloodthirsty grin, “The part of you that wishes to kill.”

He strode over and rested his hand on her stomach, “Let's see this inner side of you, shall we?”

Desperate to buy time, Katara forced words from her mouth, pooling them into drunken slurs.

“Silwah,” she whined. His hand that rested against her, as if to restrain her, lessened its press as he glanced over in her direction. Hopeful, she tried again.

“Dodtoo, woo-ee?”

He rested the blade carelessly against the end over her collar bone and felt as she went stiff.

“It's nice to hear you speak,” his pleasant smile took his features as he pulled his blade through her, cutting down to her pelvis. Katara gasped, choking on breath, blood spilling onto the table and covering his hands. The smell and taste of copper filled her mouth and nose. He let out something like a giggle, as if mocking her.

“Don't worry, Kat. I'm a doctor.”

Jeff could barely remember arriving out the house. The howling sirens and flashing red and blue lights still crowded his mind. Her cold, dead eyes stared at him behind it all. He closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his brow. Slowly he became conscious of the wooden boards below him, the sawdust that slipped between his toes and had already managed to cover his legs. Above him, a plastic cover protected him from the glaring sun, with slight, miniature holes cut into the material. As he continued glancing around, he found why. A make-shift fire was placed in the middle of the room, smoke slipping out through the holes. The building that held him seemed barely able to hold its own weight, beams left naked and simple, wooden flats serving as walls. There were no doors to speak of, only cut out shapes in the walls that guarded him. The windows had not yet been cut, or there were simply none in the room the two stayed in. Suddenly words slipped into his mind and he realized Alex was speaking to him as she moved a pot into the room.

“..Even knew my name. Till moments ago, that is. I hope you don't blame me, those bullets hold a special poison which attacks the heart within moments. I've tried to get stronger, but it wasn't enough in the end.” Here she sighed, pausing to poke at the fire. It seemed as if she didn't expect him to answer, as if she was aware he hadn't been listening the entire time. He shocked her when he did speak, however.

“I don't blame you,” his voice was a whisper. Her eyes rested on him, as if it reassured her nerves. She smiled slightly, throwing the stick into the fire and fingering her gloves.

“I'm glad you don't blame me.” she managed to say. She stood and moved a pot of water to the fire, allowing Jeff to notice her gloves were no longer lathered with blood, but wether she washed them or put on an identical pair was unclear. Alex spied him watching her and glanced down. She sat by the fire and beckoned him closer, Jeff stiffly complying. He sat across her in the saw dust covered floor, looking at her gloves curiously as she fingered the ends. The black gloves clung strangely close to her fingers, the joints in a few places too boney to be healthy. Alex herself, though, did not appear to be under fed.

“I was-” she started, the paused, looking around, fearful of something. She sighed and began again, “I was attacked. Another from my school attacked me.” Her jaw tightened, fists curled. “He used her. Is still using her. He used his pet to fight for him, cause he's too much of a coward to do it himself.” She lifted her right glove and bit down on the tips, pulling the glove off and letting it fall forgotten to the ground. Her eyes were ablaze.

“Look at this!” she howled, her voice a deadly mix of violence and betrayal. Jeff stared, astonished, unable to speak, let alone breathe. Alex smiled cooly, “Do you know how hard it is to grow entire fingers back?” He swallowed hard, peering at her hand, the fire casting a glow upon it. The smoke filtered out through small holes in the tarp above, but jeff still felt as if he was chocking. Her fair skin was ripped viciously away from the bone, revealing a bloodstained mess against the skeleton of her hand. The skin was ripped from her middle finger down to her ring finger, torn in a slant across both. The middle showed the tip of the bone, pointed and stained with dried blood. Where the skin was alive the end was raw and pulsing, muscle and veins alike showing at the place where alive and dead met. Her ring finger was cut to its first joint, skin loose and ripped, falling around the mauled finger like dead meat. Her pinkie was completely gone. Whatever skin or bone that had once been there had been taken from her violently. Alex stared at his horrified face and laughed bitterly, “You haven't even seen the worst part yet.” She turned her hand so her palm would face him and vomit clogged his throat. He swallowed hard, but was unable to look away. Every bone and muscle in her hand was visible from underneath. The skin had been completely shredded off, through some still fell loosely around it. She moved her fingers slightly, or what was left of them, and he could see the grotesque, bloody mess of muscles tense and tug, allowing the bones to be pulled in certain ways. A strange, clear goo was slathered over the open wounds, creating some sort of protective shield to allow the healing to go undisturbed. Or so he thought, for the blood and broken veins did not bleed out. He could only imagine the pain she went through every moment of the day. She lowered her hand and looked it over herself, her eyes defeated.

“The damage was worse,” her gloved hand touched her chest. “You were able to see my ribs. My lungs. If you looked closely, even my organs could be glimpsed at.” She winced at the thought, her face distorted and shadowed dramatically in the light. “It took me days. Dragging myself with two fingers on one hand, and one finger on the the other, pulling myself away, till I finally got to water. I thought to myself, 'I heard drowning was the most peaceful way to die.' So in I went. But I couldn't die. I wouldn't. And I was pulled down the stream and landed ashore in some farmer's yard. My chest had mostly healed, but the problem was clothes the hide what had not been healed. They had been mutilated in the attack. I'm sure he thinks I went and died somewhere.” She closed her eyes, “And so I stood. I stood and forced myself to walk. At this time, I could not let myself die. My very being pleaded for it, the process of healing myself over days, none stop, had burdened my muscles. I was stretching myself. I was at my limit. I couldn't go on, I couldn't breathe, but I did. I sucked in lungfuls of air and made my muscles move. In the tangles of corn I found the scarecrow rise up off the ground. On its shoulders rested a beaten jean jacket,” she tugged at the one she wore, the move of broken fingers and disconnected bones touching the fabric causing Jeff's stomach to churn once more.

“So I took it. It's torso had beaten jeans and I took those as well,” she glanced down at the mutilated jeans, covered with sawdust and dirt. “My previous ones had been covered in blood, so I left them in the field. And after hours of walking, eating uncooked corn straight from the stalk and finding heatstroke at my door, I finally came to the run down cabin that served as a home. My hands were still grotesque and, though the jean jacket helped, there wasn't much else under my shirt.” She glanced into the fire, seeming undeterred about telling this to a male. “So I slipped to the back, where clothes were hanging on the line and snatched a black shirt and some gloves a sap had left on the deck. The roar of a car had startled me off into the fields again, and from the safety of the stalks I watched as a family pulled into the driveway and walked inside. A bike had been strapped to the back of the large truck, and, tempted, I sprinted out to take it. I pulled the back down and was slipping the bike out hurriedly when a second pair of hands grabbed the bike and lifted it up and out. I was scared. I stared at the man, absolutely frozen, afraid for my life of what he would do. He smiled at me, then reached for my hand and touched the ends of my missing fingers. He must have seen the glove sag unnaturally and knew my fingers were missing. He helped me down and spoke to me in a fatherly voice, 'Now, don't go wrecking this bike.' He smiled again and patted me on the back and said, 'And don't be a stranger. You go do what you need to do.' With that he walked off and left me the bike. I jumped on and rod off.

“It took a while for me to figure out where I was and even longer to get into town. When I rode in to town, I found that I couldn't go home. My mom's probably worried sick and is doing everything in her power to find me, but I can't go home. I don't want to get her involved. I don't want to hurt her.” Alex sighed, standing and placing a collection of items into the rapidly bubbling water. Pine leaves, flowers, tiny pieces of meat, along with a collection of other greens that resembled leaves. She pulled out a ladle, rusted along the handle and stirred the soup. She then pulled her glove back on.

“So I found this place. Lack of funds makes it a place for the homeless. You'll find at night we have neighbors in other rooms. I stole some school kid's backpack, though I left all his belongings, and snatched things from stores to sustain myself. I found the ladle in a garage sale.” She chuckled half-heartedly, “which would explain a lot. It's not much, but at least it's enough to keep me going. I also snatched a book on plants so I could see what and what not to eat.” She smiled at him, stirring the pot again.

“Who did this to you?” Jeff asked, surprising himself with how tense he sounded. Alex looked at him, Jeff looking up from his hands, “And. How did you survive?”

“Survival's easy for a healer. It's keeping yourself together that's the hard part.” Jeff nodded, understanding, though didn't get the full answer he wanted. Before he could say anything Alex spoke again.

“It's the whole faith thing, you know? I don't understand how people can keep their faith during times like these. You wonder how the Big Guy let's this sort of stuff happen. Not just to me, but people like me. How he could let people die, let so many horrible people win. Let this black-souled people hold control in their hands. Everyone says everything's going to be okay, oh, you'll be okay. But it's not okay,” her voice had slipped into bitter sarcasm, “How come twenty-one students had to die? How come that shooter was able to escape? Why didn't I die with them? Why-”

Jeff's grip upon her shoulders shocked her to stop. His eyes were engulfed in fire, “Listen,” his voice was harsh, low, “without you, Jess would've never told me she loves me. I didn't even know she thought about me like that.” His eyes grew sad, “Without you, I would've never known. Clearly you're here for a reason. You were able to bless me.” His tight grip loosened as he pulled away, Alex still staring at him in shock. At last she managed to murmur, “And to think. I thought this was a one-sided conversation.” She earned a slight smile from Jeff who chuckled softly.

“So did I,” he said. Alex glanced towards the door, or what served as a door, letting out a heavy breath.

“She was going to talk about the school, or, had already mentioned it.” Jeff sucked in a painful breath as she continued, oblivious, “I don't know of anyone who would've shot her but the school. To silence her. But, that doesn't even make sense. If they shot her, then everyone is suspicious of the school.”

“They have all the power they need. They don't need to act like anything happened,” Jeff chipped in, “they silenced the one person who questioned them. And now they can go on looking like a normal school.”

Alex shook her head, “That makes sense. But they're so demonized. I can't see them ever doing this cold-heartedly.” She handed him the ladle, “No bowls. Careful not to get cut.”

“But they already have, Alex,” he took the ladle and sipped some of the soup. Plain but filling, due to the collection of plants. “No bowls, you said? What about spoons?”

Alex shook her head, “Only so much I can carry.”

“And two can carry more.” He smiled broadly at her, dipping the ladle in once more. The rust drew blood and Jeff watched as the crimson tear fell down into the mix.

A smug smile twisted the lips of the sadist as he watched the boy before him tense with anger.

“I kissed her, you know,” he said in a low drawl, enjoying every word of it. “I took her first kiss, something she'll never forget. How could you ever kiss her knowing her lips once touched mine?”

The boy scowled, “You leave her out of this.”

“Oh?” He laughed heartedly, “She's the whole reason for this! She's the reason that woman had to die,” he gestured to the stage, clouds overhead dimming the lighting and causing the blood to look like wet paint. “Oh, but you aren't listening, are you? You're blocking me out, praying for Katara's safety instead of your own. Listen, Samuel!” His twisted smirk widened, Samuel's face distorted with disgust, “I'll do my best to make you understand her pain.”

1000 Views. I love you people.

1000 views? What? And 6 from Denmark? Bloody Denmark? Dude, I feel like, famous. So. In honor of all you of people from across seas and in the same continent as me, I'm going to give you something a bit different. It's not a chapter for Harvest, though that will be up rather soon. (actually, I have to type up 2 chapters, but I'm lazy and video games are tempting. ._. ) It's going to be something bloody awesome, even though, as I'm typing this, I'm desperately trying to figure something to match your guys' epicness. Heh, anyways. Thanks everyone for viewing! I love you guys! ^-^

“Seriously, guys? It's 7 in the morning.”

“The sun's been up for a while.”

“It's summer. Now leave before I kill you off.”

She grinned, the sash around her eyes tight and closing off whatever lay beneath. “You wouldn't do that. I'm the main character. Everyone loves me.”

“Don't you get cocky. I've seriously contemplated it.” I rubbed my eyes, sighing. “The lot of you are annoying. Why I even made you is a complete mystery to me.”

“Oh don't try to sound poetic and all writery.” Samuel huffed out, leaning against the door frame. I glared at him meaningly, “I am a writer. I can sound that way if I want to.” He rolled his eyes, shrugging. “The real question is, why you made him.” He jerked a thumb back to where Silver Vain sat on the couch, watching t.v. I wrinkle my nose, “I'm surprised he's not experimenting on one of you.”

Katara shivered and Samuel spoke up in her defense, “Yeah, what was the reason for that anyways?”

I smirked and shrugged, “You tell me. Good night.”

Katara grabbed my shoulders and shook me, shocking me to my core and throwing my tired mind into panic. I yelped and jumped into a sitting position, ready to kill someone. Katara grinned, laughing at my expression. I scowled, tossing my pillow at her, then blinking, confused how that made sense. She didn't look to impressed and, sheepishly, I asked for my one and only pillow back.

“Why should I give it to you?”

“Cause I made you!” I pleaded in a whinny voice, tipping backwards, catching myself before I fell.

“And you screwed her over,” Silver pitched in from the other room. My expression fell, displeasure cutting lines into my face.

“Thank you, Doctor Phil.” I growled out, my morning voice sounding much like a man's. One with a cold, to top it off. I sighed, rubbing my eyes and yawning.
“So what the heck did you want from me?”

“Well,” Katara started, giddy, “we had some ideas for the next chapter.”

“The next chapter's already written.”

“Well the one after-”

“Finished.”

Katara's brow knitted together under her brow, her jaw set to display her less than happy emotion. I grinned, “Can I go to sleep now?”

“Actually,” the black haired kid walked in, who, no matter what happened, I had difficulty remembering his name. Most likely cause I hated him. “I had some ideas to add as well,” Jerry said, shrugging.

“Who invited you in?” I growled, throwing the nearest thing at him. The pencil hit his chest and fell lamely to the ground.

“Ha!” I howl victoriously, “take that! Pencil to the chest!” I tipped back on my mattress, pulling the blankets over my head. I groaned when someone sat down, crushing my legs.

“I'm going to kill whoever is on me.” The blankets were pulled off of my head and tiredly I glared at the person at the foot of my bed. I blinked, “Oh. Hi.”

Mr. Linkin smiled half-heartedly, though irritation was at the edge of his smile. “We're out of food. Again.”

“What!? Penguin flipping..Who ate the last of the food!? I just got some yesterday! I'm going to be broke soon! Then I won't even be able to buy pencil and paper and all of you,” I pointed an accusing finger to Katara, “even you, smart butt, will die.”

Collectively they rolled their eyes, paying no attention to the fact that their death was imminent. More so for one, than the others. I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

“Let's hear this idea of yours—and yes, I'll get more food, Linkin.”

“It's Mr. Linkin.”

I glanced up, my expression tired and agitated, “I can make your life a whole lot worse.”

“Right, well, I'm going..out.” He smiled pleasantly then quickly strode out-on the fine line of walking and running. I turned my tired eyes to Katara. “Yes?”

“So, I was thinking that instead of no eyes, it was all an illusion and-”

“You don't have eyes. Get over it. Next.”

Katara huffed a breath out, disappointed and displeased with my attitude. Samuel stepped up, slipping away from Jerry. “I was thinking that I could heroically run in and save Katara.” He grinned broadly and I smiled bitterly. “You're already attractive enough. Get out of here.”

Jerry smirked, “Though no match for me.”

“Watch it,” Samuel growled, “or I'll beat you up even more.”

“Bring it, pretty boy.”

“OH HECK NO!” I shouted, stopping the boys in their tracks, who looked at me, shocked expressions wrecking their faces. “Outside. Now. Get.”

They glanced at each other, as if not wanting to do so. “Go on!” I growled and quickly they scurried off. After a pause, I cocked my head. “I wonder if anyone else besides me thinks Samuel is attractive..I wonder if I should make that more noticeable. I wonder how,” I trailed off, brow knitted in concentration. Kat sighed, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, you're cool.”

“I know.” I grinned, then she smirked wickedly, “You talk to imaginary people.” Offended, I shot back defensively, “You're plenty real! Look at this!” I scrambled out of bed and grabbed my sketch book, shoving it in her face, pointing to one picture in particular. “That's you!”

“Mmhmm. I hope it isn't.” With that she stood and strode out, leaving me with a gaping mouth. My face twisted with anger, “I hate all of you.” I sat the sketch book down and looked at the picture.

“It's not that bad.” I trailed off, cocking my head, then shrugged, “Eh, I made her, I can butcher her looks as much as I want.” A smirk curled my lips, “I should make her fat.” Snickering, I ran out, then froze as I passed a mirror. “Hmm. Maybe I should shower. Eh.” I shrugged one more, then shot off to the computer, a giant grin on my face. Quickly I opened up the Harvest document and waited for it to load. Silver came over, glancing at my face. “You're not up to any good, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Interesting. Should I be concerned?”

“Probably.”

He shrugged, walking off laughing. “Someone's going to get it!” Suddenly he was back at my side, “It's not me is it?”

I groaned, “No, you haven't done anything wrong.”

He grinned, resuming his laughter and mockery of the other characters that inhabited the house. Before I got started messing up Katara's image, Jess walked in.

“Lauren.”

“Oh my-WHAT!?” I snap, looking at her.

“You killed me.”

“Yep.”

She blinked, putting her hands on her hips. “You. Killed. Me.”

“Yeah, I know.” I cocked my head, “Dude, seriously. It's cool.”

“No, it's not! You shot me! In the chest!” She put her fingers where the wound had been inflicted. I shook my head, “No, I didn't shoot anyone.”

“Seriously?”

“Whaaat?” I whined, going limp in my chair, exasperated. “What do you want from me?”

“Not to be dead!”

“You're standing right there. Talking to me.”

“In the story, you jack-”

“Woah now, no cursing.” I waved my finger, my lips pursed. The expression was broke when I smirked, “Besides. You're alive in people's memories.” I mocked the look-at-this-sentimental-moment-you'd-better-be-touched voice that all the movies do. Jess rubbed her brow, “Yeah, you don't have a lot of friends. Do you?”

“Yes I do!”

She looked at me and cocked a brow, grinning. I scowled, “You're going to be fat too.” She chuckled victoriously, then strode off. I stuck out my tongue as she turned and walked off, shaking my fist. I turn back to Harvest and scroll down through the millions of pages. Before I make it to the newest chapter, someone else walks in.

“Oh my gosh, what now!?” I growl, throwing my hands in the air. I let them hit the table and wince, bitting my lip as I try not to tell the table to go die in a hole alone and spontaneously combust. Alex looked at me with a cocked brow, questioning the pathetic expression on my face. I smile sheepishly, “Pay no attention to me.”
“Sadly, I have to.”

“Okay, why does everyone hate me?”

“Uhm. You screw up our lives.”

“But..I made you!”
She crossed her arms, “For your sick desires.”

“I wouldn't call them sick,” desperately I placed the blame somewhere else, “it's all for the sake of the plot!” I make a dramatic face, hoping I would get sympathy. After all, I was the one who's twisted mind came up for the plot and the interweaving web of chaos. C'mon, I did deserve some sympathy. Then again, they could use that to put me in the mental hospital. Something to think about, I suppose.

“This is how much I care.” Alex growled. I blinked, waiting. Awkwardly we stared at each other till finally Alex cracked.

“Oh my God, WHAT?!”

“You never told me how much.”

She looked confused, cocking a brow. “What?”

“You were all,” I put my hands on my hips, pursed my lips and spoke in a mocking voice, “'This is how much I care', but then you don't tell me how much.” I made a 'duh' expression upon my face, then smirked, seeing how Alex reacted. She was fuming, red in the face and fists clenched. Her jaw was set and she opened her mouth to say something. All that came out, however, was an exasperated breath, “You're hopeless.” Then she stormed off.

“And guess who created you?” I shouted back as she slipped out of my view. I smirked when I heard her groan. A crash thundered through the house and I sighed. “I'm never going to get anything done at this rate.” I stood up and walked to the window in the other room, avoiding the couch and table on the way. Peering out the window I saw Jerry what's-his-name and Samuel hottie fighting it out n the backyard. I stood there staring as they fought, wondering if I should write down that Samuel's shirt had been, at some point in the fight, ripped off. I decided against it and ran out the door. Coming to the back of the house I stood there with hands on my hips. The grass that had finally started to come alive was now dying again, having been burnt and trampled as Jerry charged in his massive beast form against the hot Samuel. And when I say hot, I mean, seriously, he was on fire. Jerry froze when he spotted me standing behind the two of them, allowing Samuel time to punch him full force with a fist full of fire against the face. Jerry yelped, snapped at Samuel's hand then motioned with his snout towards me, glaring at Sammy. Sammy turned around and looked as if he was a beaten puppy, ready for another slap. He grinned sheepishly, “Uh. Hello.”

“You killed my grass.”

“Oh,” he glanced at his feet, “I'm-”

“I mean, seriously, why didn't you go to the neighbors and fight it up!? Their grass is already dead! Jeez. Common sense, people.” I threw my hands into the air, frustrated beyond belief as Samuel and Jerry exchanged a glance. I threw an accusing finger at the two of them, “You think I'm crazy, don't you!?”

“NO! No, no, no! Not at all!” They both shook their heads hurriedly, Samuel waving his hands, palms out towards me.

“Hm. Whatever. You guys are making the grass come back.” Collectively they groaned, shoulders falling. I grinned triumphantly, then strode off. “Oh,” I backtracked a bit to face them, “And please, if you're going to fight somewhere, don't do it on our property.”

“But, we'll be sued if we do it again.”

“Sued? Who fed you that lie?”

Grotesquely Jerry shifted back to human, his horns pulling into his skull, his arms shrinking, his tail receding till he stood on his feet again. Luckily he still had clothes on. Out of his pocket he pulled out a letter from the police.

“The po-po gave us this when we wrecked up the park.” He came up next to me, handing me the paper. Flippantly I glanced it over and shrugged, giving it back. “What can they do when you've got powers and they got guns?”

“Uhm. Shoot us.”

I blinked, then smirked wickedly, “I never did really like you.”

“And I'm going to give you writer's block.”

Stunned, my eyes went wide, “Wait don't-!”

Curses.