Power of the 8 Elements

Chapter Nineteen

(Reader Discretion is Adviced: some descriptions and/or assumptions of abuse)

"So what did the SCP tell you?" Cheryl asked at lunch.

The class voted that we eat lunch outside. I went along with the idea since we could best talk to Thrax.

"That SCP is called Thrax," I said bitterly. "And he told us some basic information about serial killers. The types, usual motives and stuff."

"And did you find a connection?"

"We agreed on one thing," Lucifer said. "We're dealing with a mission oriented killer who's feeling intense anger. From the murders we know, he or she is targeting students. The students must've done something and that's why they're being killed."

"That's something to go on," Cheryl said.

"Preccccccisssssssley," Thrax said. We turned our heads to the other side of the fence to see Thrax stand and pressing his hands against the chain. He shapeshifted and slipped through the fence before retaining a solid shape again with his hair waving in a slightly messy yet smooth ocean-like look before it fell around his face and he flipped it out of his face.

"You really couldn't have sliced through the fence with that finger of yours?" Lucifer said.

Thrax stuck the finger in his head, but Lucifer didn't even flinch. Thrax sat next to us.

"Good. But what about the SCP Foundation?" Terry asked.

"What happened to Jacob was unintentional. It did not connected to any of the murders shown through the different M.O."

"M.O?" I asked.

"You guys really know nothing of crime. It's how a person or group kills. Modus Operandi. Method of operating. For example, I infiltrated people's bodies, masked my actions as a fever, and then proceeded to raise their temperatures and steal a DNA bead to add to a collection before leaving."

"So you are—were—a control killer."

"You think I've stopped?"

Everyone's face fell, and we all stared at him, hoping and praying that he was just fooling around with us.

"I'm kidding," he laughed.

All of us sighed with relief as Thrax ignored that trauma he inflicted on us as he played with hair while looking in a mirror.

"You really like your hair," Lucifer said, hovering over his shoulder.

Thrax shoved him to the side before putting the mirror in his coat.

"What else can you fit in there?" Cheryl asked.

"Anything," Thrax said, lying on his back on the grass.

"Like what?" Terry asked.

He pulled out a huge machine gun and proceeded to FIRE the damn thing with a grin on his face before sitting up putting the gun back in his coat, standing up, fluffing the collar and walking down the field.

"Thrax, you idiot!" I called, standing up and walking after him.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face me.

"What did we talk about—not touching me?"

"Screw that! You fired a gun in a—public place..." I lowered my voice.

Thrax jerked his hand away from me, but I grabbed his arm and rolled the sleeve up. I gasped and pulled away from his arm. Unhealed scratches, bruises, and what looked like needle marks crawled further up.

"Thrax...what are those?"

"Nothing," He said, pulling the sleeve down.

"Is someone hurting you? Are you being abused?"

Thrax turned to me. The hair that was once neat and combed was now messy and falling in front of his face. "Shut the up." He teleported away just as Lucifer, Terry, and Cheryl caught up to me.

"What's the matter with him?" Lucifer asked.

"Where'd he go more importantly?" Cheryl asked.

"Guys, I don't think this is the same Thrax," I said.