Fucked up world

Chapter 3 : Rănile

"Mom!! I got my quirk!! I finally got it!"
The little girl jumped into her arms. "No one will make fun of me at school again!"
The woman smiled at her. "Oh honey, that's great... Show me."
She raised her hand proudly and little shadows began to dance around it. "I can control shadows, it's so cool! Don't you think?"
She remained silent for a moment, she no longer smiled. She even looked scared.
She broke the hug and put her on the ground, kneeling in front of the girl and grabbing her shoulders.
"Honey, you're going to have to keep this a little more secret, okay?
Don't show it or tell anyone about it. I know it's going to be hard but you have to listen to me."
The 5-year-old girl didn't understand why her mother looked at her with such sad eyes.
Then the first one arrived.

"Pulvis and umbra sumus"
We are dust and shadows
                                                                                          

                                                                                              ********

His voice was deep and cold.
"Be quiet."
He slowly pushed you in a dark alleyway as he covered your mouth with his hand from behind. There was a cold-blooded killer with me. He stood behind me, his back to the wall, a hand around my neck. I heard the screams of the heroes discovering the corpse in the main street.

"You scream; you die." He told me, uncovering my mouth.
"I scream; we both die. I answered.
I glimpsed at him quickly. His burn marks were so...worse up close.
"-must hurt..." I thought out loud.
I didn't dare look but I felt him tense and thightening his grip, little flames dancing around his fingers, licking my skin.

And here I am, going to get killed just because I can't keep quiet.
"What are you talking about?! You want a medal for showing mercy? Don't make fun of me." He whispered even though I knew he probably wanted to scream now.

I'm tired, I'm not even afraid anymore, this situation is so stupid. I just want to go home.
"I don't pity you...you don't deserve it."

He responds after a moment, then i felt his grip loosening "You're right..." I turned my head to him in surprise.
There was a strange look in his eyes. "I've done terrible things and I have no remorse for them."
He had a very scary expression but I've heard things like that before.
And I knew he was lying.
"What does that make you?" I knew what he would say.

"I'm a bad guy, a villain." Dabi said in a low, cold voice.
The glint in his eyes seems to get brighter, as if he's anticipating my reaction.
It was almost like... he was daring me to call him something worse.
"I'm a monster" There was no emotion behind it. Just a statement of fact.

"You're-" I was silenced by a hand over my mouth. His hand...
I was about to spit in it when I heard the footsteps of a hero near the street.
I looked at him silently, trying to kill him with my eyes.
There was blood on his hand.
And he seemed to enjoy the fact that he was holding my face with a bloody hand.
But the real question was who this blood came from... And I was still waiting for the footsteps to fade, the hero had stopped in front of the alley, squinting to see into the darkness of the alley before walking away. Fortunately, we were both dressed in black... He didn't see us. The heroes' screams died away as they left the area.
I heard a growl. I looked at him, at his stomach, blood staining his white shirt. I pushed his hand away from my face, taking my distance.

"You're going to die. You have a deep cut, there may be internal damage. It's a miracle you're not already dead, you should see a doctor. Within 2 hours, otherwise you'll bleed out "I was about to start my best speedrun.
"You seem to have your stuff now...Heal me." His breathing was heavy.
I froze and looked at him. He knelt on the ground, curling up to put as little pressure on the wound. He looked so pathetic
"Go to the hospital."
"You know well enough that I can't."
"Then die..." My voice was as cold as my eyes, trying to hold back all emotion.

He managed to get up but he was barely standing.
"Give me your price."
This took me by surprise. I laughed darkly. "I don't want your money."
I turned around and started walking away. But then the memories came back to me.

I stopped. I didn't turn around. I just asked.
"Do you have any information on the Eden Project?"
"How the fuck do you know that? Who are you?" He quickly responded with a growl.
I turned
"Do you have any information on Eden?" I repeat.

We looked at each other. I didn't show any emotion. Nothing.
"Heal me and I'll tell you what I know."

My head was filled with memories, pain, dark places and snow.
But I already knew I would agree.
Because I don't give a fuck about this world anymore. Because I needed to know.

It was a difficult time bringing him home.
He was heavy as hell and I was afraid someone would see me helping a villain with his arm on my shoulder.
Plus he was tall, which made walking difficult.
I was tired, malnourished and he was bleeding profusely, staining my shirt with crimson fluid.
At least he wasn't threatening to kill me anymore.

I opened the door to my apartment plunged into darkness. I dragged him from memory onto my couch.
But judging by his groans of pain and muffled curses, he could have hit the table.
"That's for making me help you." I said coldly
I heard a soft 'fuck you' in response.

I threw him on my couch before going to turn on the light.
It was 2:50 AM
My apartment was small, a three-room apartment with no decoration. A cold and impersonal place. Just a frame was placed on a shelf.
My mother and I, a long time ago. I turned the photo towards the wall.

I went to the bathroom to grab my medical supplies and headed back towards my eventual ticket to jail.
"I don't have any anesthetic so you'll be in pain" I commented as I sat down in a chair in front of him.
"Do your business" he replied.
"Show me your wound." He made a twisted face. I lifted his shirt, ignoring his strange reaction .
And frozen.

His chest was covered in scars and huge burn marks on his skin, which were held together as best they could with staples.
I remained silent, looking at his chest.
I couldn't even imagine how painful that must have been. No one should feel such pain.

Although the victim had that look in his eyes that made you wonder how many he had killed.
And that... smile that made you realize he'd probably lost count.