Unstoppable: Revitalized

-04-

"Sit still. The Boss will be here soon, and I need you alive."

I'd finally given up attempting an escape, and ended up slumping over, still feeling the sweat of panic wash itself over me. My eyes kept darting to where I'd fallen down, the patch of blood still fresh, still warm.

Still mine.

My mouth was still gagged, my vision finally stabilising as I got some sort of look at my kidnapper: A blonde haired, green eyed teenager, perhaps a year older than me, but more toned. He wore the same uniform I did, except his was in better condition, a few muscles pushing against his blazer. He seemed more defined than anyone I'd seen at school before. His eyes never stayed centred on anything, constantly flickering around like a fly in a glass jar: Never ceasing its movement. He'd grabbed a chair from the war zone and pulled it over, nonchalantly leaning back as he continued to take the scene in, yet uncaring to run off and report it.

Maybe he's trying to piece together how he found me. I have no idea how long he's been sat there, but he moved fast enough. And who's 'The Boss?' Why wouldn't he just say the Headmaster? Nusanda spoke about this guy too, what's up with that?

I had no more than a few moments to ponder this before the door opened and closed, two people walking in. One was a man in a suit, buzzcut and stubbled, and the other a more formidable looking man: Neatly dressed, a polo shirt and freshly pressed trousers being on show, a pair of Oxford shoes as a secondary flash to the style. His eyes covered by aviators, and a snarl as he saw me, clearly recognizing me, yet I had no recollection of him whatsoever.

"What's the call for Cal? All I see is... What the fuck happened here?" The second man stepped towards me, before noticing the pool of blood, his face slowly looking more questionable than before.

"No clue, found the pace like this, with test subject two tearing the limbs off of this kid. After dealing with him, I came back, unlocked the door, and saw that he'd managed to recover from the brink of death, and even more than that, he's come back unharmed." My original attacker, who I now knew the name of, gestured to me: God knows how many gaps in my clothing and hair, and yet not a mark had stuck to me.

"So, to be honest Boss, this is him. The one you've been unsure of. The original strand worked."

'The boss' looked me up and down, before a sickening grin emerged, a plan of sorts forming in his mind. He took a deep breath, loosened his shoulders, and walked towards me, that smile of misfortune still clear as day. The man he walked in with said nothing as he opened and shut the door once again, except his shadow cast itself over the window.

He's fucking guarding it. Guarding it so no one comes in. Fuck. I'm in trouble here, and I know it. But why? And what does he mean/ 'Boss?' 'Original strand?' What on earth are they on about?

I begged for help, for mercy, for anything with my eyes, trying to find some form of assistance behind this cold gaze I could feel, but it was useless. Both men found no mercy for me as he firmly placed one hand on my shoulder, the other in his jean pocket.

"Do you have any idea what you are?" He said, the hand he had free coming away and untying the gag. I wanted to scream, but I knew if I did, I'd be in deep shit, so I stammered before answering.

"And please, for the love of god, be honest. Lies make me really angry. And trust me kid, you don't wanna see me angry." The grip on my shoulder tightened as I blew some air out of my mouth in pain, trying to get the words out

"N-no, no i-idea. I swore I-"

"Died?"

"Y-yeah, exactly."