Chapter Text
“We’re not with them, we thought you were with them. I’m not going to hurt you.” He's lying, I tell myself. People lie, Wolves lie, this isn’t beyond them.
The bright floodlights from the building behind us, the spotlight from a helicopter overhead. The wind is loud, forcing itself against my body. All of this sensory overload is making me exhausted. I feel like I could fall over. I’ve been running for days, fighting for hours. These people have been kicking my ass. They’re all dressed in weird outfits and looking at me menacingly-I can’t even take this seriously. I’m probably going to die, and I can’t help but laugh. Some douchebag who threw a trashcan lid at my head an hour earlier is currently dressed head to toe in red, white and blue. I mean come on, this is objectively hilarious. Uncle Sam here seems to be in charge, the others standing on the grassy hill behind him looking for a signal. I can’t help but laugh because they’re all dressed like idiots. A red spandex suit, way too much leather, a suit of armor? Is this guy seriously in a suit of armor? I laugh out loud and it makes buckle over. I have enhanced strength, not enhanced durability, and there is a shooting pain in my side when I breathe. Shit. In response, Uncle Sam takes a step forward, I back into a tree and shoot him a warning look. I can feel my eyes burning. Burning with a power I wish I didn’t have. I swallow it down and force myself to stand straighter.
The Knight in armor turns his head, “We should just sedate her. She’s eaten through three suits already. I can't even afford this.” Suits? Is that what those were? Earlier, three empty men tried restraining me one by one. And one by one I tore through the metal and destroyed them. Suits of armor that moved. I knew enough about robotics to see that they were automated, but no exoskeleton? How did they move? Were the mechanisms in the walls of the armor? Interesting. It would make it too thick though, too heavy to wear. I would have-
“The people you’re running from,” Uncle Sam was now about five paces in front of me, I wasn’t paying attention, “the Wolves? We can help you.”
I doubt it.
He took a step closer, “They kept you captive? Kidnapped you?”
Shut up.
He put his hand out, “I'm sorry that happened. They’ve done a lot of bad things.”
You have no idea.
Walking closer still, “If you help us,” stop, “we can take them down.”
No.
“They won’t be able to hurt anyone else.” He touches my shoulder. And then…
“No!” I'm boiling, burning with fire. I can’t control myself. I see myself moving, I see myself attacking these… idiots, but I’m not in control. Uncle Sam, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The Wolves? They aren’t the kind of people you just ‘stop’. They’re ruthless, and as I watch myself, disconnected, brutalizing these people, I realize that I'm ruthless too. Blood, I don’t know whose, it’s on my hands, on my face, in my mouth. I don’t know why I’m doing this. If I’m being honest, I don’t remember the beginning of this fight. I don’t remember anything really. Maybe if I’m lucky they’ll kill me.
The Knight… wait… no…
Suddenly, I clutch the side of my neck, looking for the source of a sharp and metallic pain. Something cylindrical, glass. I pull it out of my neck, a trail of blood briefly squirts out. I stumble back. Shit.
But I don’t even remember why I’m fighting. I whine to no one.
I try to walk back when I feel the cold hard ground suddenly against my side. Shit.
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. My chest hurts. I don’t want to do this anymore. I miss my mom… I try to look up, but all I see is the dark forest. I don’t want to do this anymore. I think I’m going to pass out. The blood on my hands lying in front of me shines brightly. A stark and familiar shade, contrasting the dark green of the woods. My eyes are heavy. I think I’m dying… the last thing I see before leaving this world is a pair of eyes in the darkness. There is something in the forest.
Shit.