Hero & Villain

Lance | 1547w

I see Falcon try to hold back his stricken expression as he sees the body of the man I just killed. A twinge of regret flashes through me, then disappears as quickly as it came. The man, Randy, deserved this. Deserved worse than this, for what he's done. I found numerous papers detailing his experiments and plans, down to the individual people he planned to kidnap and experiment on.

Normally I would have got in, killed him silently, and left without a hitch. This time however, I couldn't leave all this evidence for others to find and exploit. It had to be destroyed, so I started a fire. A small fire at first, located in an empty apartment. It set the smoke alarms off, and once I was sure everyone but my prey had evacuated, I started more fires.

I did my research, and the records say Randy is on vacation in another country. I guess he didn't want anyone disrupting his experiments. No one would think he died in the fire, not that he had anything more important than some furniture in his apartment.

I glance at his body again, smirking to myself at the gouge wound in his shoulder, as well as multiple lacerations across his torso. I might have taken longer with him if Falcon hadn't shown up to stop me, though it was indirectly his fault I tortured the man in the first place. There was a file dedicated to Falcon in the man's desk, detailing exactly how he planned to slowly cut Falcon apart until he understood how Falcon changed like he did.

I turn back to Falcon now, my smirk still in place. "So the little hero finally showed up." I mock, my voice an octave lower than normal as I crouch down and wrench my bloody dagger from its place in the man's heart. I twirl it around in my hand, sheathing it when Falcon meets my gaze, his filled with hatred.

"You're a monster," He spits, his hands fisted at his sides.

My eyes flash in anger and I advance toward him. He must realize he has no chance of winning, because he starts backing up. Before he gets very far I catch up to him, easily slapping away his attempts to hit me. Normally he's a worthy opponent, neither of us coming out a clear winner, but right now he's injured and weak, giving me a clear advantage.

I shove him against the wall, then wrap a single hand around his neck to pin him there. I stand on his toes to keep him from kicking, also managing to grab both his hands and pin them to his chest. I smirk at the height difference, so prominent because of how closely I'm standing to him.

"You've never met a real monster," I snarl at Falcon. "You wouldn't dare say that to me if you had."

Falcon squirms, his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he opens them again to glare at me. "So I guess being tortured for three days doesn't count?" He hisses.

I chuckle darkly, causing his eyes to widen by a fraction. "Try three years, then decide who the real monster is. Oh wait, you can't, because I just killed the man who was going to allow you that experience." I lean forward, almost close enough to be kissing his temple. "You can thank me later," I whisper in his ear, then release him all at once.

He crumples to the floor, and by the time he's standing again I've already stalked out the door, the roaring flames parting like the Red Sea to allow me through.

I don't even return to my hideout, I go straight home. I stomp through the door, slam it shut behind me, and unceremoniously strip out of my suit on my way to the shower. It smells like smoke, and I'm too angry to care about leaving it in a heap on the floor.

I don't even wait for the water to heat up before I step in, my fists clenched like they have been ever since I got home. My short fingernails dig into my skin as I breathe shakily. I refused to let it bother me in the moment, but seeing all those papers and that man, Randy, brought back a lot of terrible memories. And then I saw the ones on Falcon and... I snapped.

I lean my forehead against the side of the shower, letting water run down my back until my imagination kicks in and it suddenly seems like blood has replaced the water. I quickly scrub my hair, then stumble out of the shower.

My eyes are no longer glowing, and the memories I have of when they were are fuzzy at best. The one I remember most clearly is pinning Falcon against the wall, though what exactly I said I can't recall. Something about torture and me killing someone. I killed someone again?

I groan lightly as I trudge to my bed, smacking my head with my fist and immediately regretting it when my headache gets worse. I'd been doing so good about not killing people recently, but then I hadn't met any evil scientists recently either. Oh well, I guess my fifty-three day streak is broken.

I fall into bed, tugging the covers all the way up and over my head. I ignore the feeling of guilt washing over me as I remember how I left Falcon there. He got out though, I know he did. I'm pretty sure I remember seeing him flying away. Right?

I shut my eyes tightly and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I'll find out tomorrow, but for now I need to rest and regain the strength it took to control that fire. I try to coax myself into a dreamless sleep, and eventually my eyes close. I welcome the darkness, but not for long.

I failed.

***

"Hey Randolf? Boss? He's awake," a gruff voice says as I struggle to open my eyes. My limbs are heavy and don't want to move, keeping me firmly on the cold metal table. I manage to crack my eyes open, only to be met with a blindingly bright light clicking on.

I flinch slightly, which I would think was progress if I hadn't actually been trying to jump up and run away.

"Hm... it would appear he retains mild motor-functioning," the voice says.

I manage to open my eyes again, this time making out the silhouette of a tall man. He shifts the light to one side, and I'm able to see him more clearly. He has tan skin and black hair cropped short, about the same length as his salt-and-pepper beard. He wouldn't look intimidating if it weren't for his crooked nose that looked as if it had been broken five too many times, and his brown eyes so dark they appeared almost black.

I see movement behind him, and my eyes snap to it and watch as another, slightly older man walks forward. He's holding a syringe.

I recognize this man, though I'm aware he rarely comes to see me himself. Normally he hires other people to do his dirty work, like the big man who is now leaning over me snapping his fingers. I glance at him, unimpressed, then look back to the boss. I'd never heard his name before, and yet somehow the name Randolf seems to fit him.

He looks like a kind man going on elderly. Mostly gray hair, relatively smooth skin, height not over 5' 10", his features unbroken and almost friendly; a stark contrast to the other man. And yet, I know this man is much worse. He'll probably have the larger man exterminated after this for exposing his name. I can't bring myself to care, I've seen enough death in this place to be desensitized.

Randolf steps into the light, giving me a clearer view of his proud grin. "I finally did it, Skrímsli," he said, his grin not fading as he tapped the syringe full of vibrant blue liquid against my arm. "I finally figured out how to complete my mission. Finally, you'll be complete. And together, we can rain fire on anyone who opposes us!"

I doubt he would sound so joyful if only he knew what he was saying, because as of now, he's the only one who opposes me, and I would greatly like to rein fire on him.

"I will finally have the weapon I've always wanted," he continues, as he presses the tip of the syringe to my arm. I feel a sudden jolt of fear, and somewhere I can hear a distorted beeping sound grow more rapid. "Don't worry Skrímsli, this will only hurt more than anything else ever has," his grin grows wider, and he plunges the needle through my skin.

Before he's even finished pushing the poison into me, my body starts burning itself alive from within. Fire spreads through my veins until it's all I can feel.

I can't even feel the knife drag across my arm, but I can somehow still hear Randolf's evil chuckle as he gazes at the blue liquid spilling from my newest wound.

He succeeded.