MISFIT

Chapter 6: The Consequences of His Actions

Shit happens as Arthur's dad usually said. Before he blacked out all Arthur remembered was falling in the air and then complete nothingness. He didn't know how long he was unconscious but when he came too things turned sour.

As he opened his eyes he looked up at the clear and starry night sky. Arthur didn't dare to move too terrified of the thought that maybe his body broke from the fall. He stayed in his laid position inside the small crater he created from the impact with the concrete wondering why wasn't he dead.

He couldn't lie there and sulk about how much he failed among other emotions that swirled in his head. Forcing himself off the ground his entire body ached making him almost topple over from the pain. Arthur slowly climbed himself out of the crater and leaned himself against a lamppost.

Arthur blamed himself for being so stupid. He never thought things through before acting and now here he was in pain feeling like a shell of his former self. The killer still wandered freely on the streets with no one able to catch him, even someone like him with powers.

So why keep going? That's the burning question fuelling Arthur's thoughts on the long walk home.

Without even needing to take out his phone he knew how late he was when he returned to the comfort of his bedroom lucky enough to make it there without waking up a single soul. Taking off his bloodstained shirt and throwing it onto the floor, Arthur switched on the light in the bathroom appalled by what he saw in the mirror.

Covered in blood, cuts, and a single black eye atoned for the damage his face took trying to stop a psychopathic killer. No good deed comes from being a hero and Arthur didn't need to be told twice.

Turning on the faucet he let the cold water run on his cupped hands for a brief second before washing away the evidence of his failed attempt at something greater than himself. Before he could finish cleaning up the blood he began to notice something odd, the visible deep cuts on Arthur's face began to heal.

Arthur felt warmth spread throughout his body as little golden lights spread across his face closing the wounds. The black eye began to rapidly heal and within seconds faded off of his skin as if he washed away like a marker.

There he stood in quiet reflection as he took in his miraculously recovery of all of his injuries. Even his body felt revitalized and ready for anything. Washing off the remainder of blood from his face Arthur went to bed, falling asleep he figured nothing could make things worse.

That morning came too quickly for Arthur as sunlight shined in his tired eyes. He didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed wishing he could lie there all day and forget the previous night, but no matter how hard he tried flashes of his encounter with the killer popped into his head.

He could recall every detail of the man in white from the wavy brown hair that stuck out from under his white close drawn hood, piercing purple eyes, and that creepy sinister smile that made your skin crawl just by thinking about it. How easily he was able to manipulate and play Arthur made him feel so stupid.

Staring up at the wooden ceiling of his attic bedroom he wondered where the killer was now. Maybe in a public place scouting out his next victim or hidden in a dark basement somewhere concocting another trap for Arthur to spring so he can finish what he tried to do last night.

It didn't help anyone to dwell on what may or may not happen but Arthur couldn't make the feelings dissipate from his mind. If things were different this whole thing would have been dropped and forgotten by now.

Forcing himself to get up out of bed Arthur went to his desk. Taking out his phone he retyped into his laptop all the names of the victims the killer has claimed for his own perverted desires. He knew that no one could stop this guy from hurting more people, but maybe he could.