Legends [Book Two]

6

"This is it?" Morph asked, looking around the dark farmhouse that was covered in dust and cobwebs.

Junhee nodded as he flipped on the living room lights. "This is the place he told us about."

"It seems pretty normal to me," Cyclone exclaimed as he slid his finger across the fireplace.

Sehyoon scoffed, gaining everyone's attention. "You should hear the reason why it's not normal."

"What happened here?" Inferno asked as he bent down and started a fire with his ability. Working with Pyro helped him get a better handle on his pyrokinesis. He was now able to start fires with a snap of his fingers, something he couldn't do before.

Yuchan shook his head as he looked at Changmin who was busy with Psylocke. "I don't know if that's our story to be telling."

Donghun nodded in agreeance. His eyes were closed, and he was concentrating on healing Psylocke, but that didn't mean he wasn't paying attention to what was happening around him.

"I have a question for you," Tempus said, directing the question at Donghun.

"What?" He retorted without opening his eyes.

"If you could bring Psylocke back from the dead, why did we leave Split back there?"

Byeongkwan gathered up the courage to speak up for Donghun but before he could say anything, Junhee said, "He can't save both."

Morph quickly moved his attention to Junhee and asked, "Why not?"

Shaking his head, he put his hand on Donghun's shoulder. "That's the one downside of his ability. He must put all his effort into saving someone. If he were to reduce his effort by even one percent, the person would die."

"He isn't able to practice?" Pitch asked as he picked up the couch effortlessly and moved it to the other side of the room. He wasn't the type to really care about how a room looked, but it was awkward having more than thirty mutants in a room together with a couch in the middle of them.

"He only got this far from practicing. He used to only be able to heal wounds. We're lucky he's able to bring people back from the dead. It just takes a while."

Finally, after trying to figure out how to bring it up, Vortex let out a loud sigh. Most of the mutants put their attention on him, wondering why he was sighing as loud as he was. That's when they all realized why.

"Are we not going to talk about how we're going to help Bunny?" He angrily shot out.

Ira quickly walked over to the two of them, taking Bunny out of her arms and bringing her to the dining room where he placed her on the old, wood table that was in the middle of the room. Bunny was drenched in her own sweat; it was her bodies attempt at trying to heal itself. Doc followed behind Ira, knowing he was going to have to help Ira with Bunny.

"What do you think we'll have to do?" Vortex asked.

Ira tore Bunny's shirt opened and noticed the skin that had forged together. He quickly called Blade to the dining room. "I don't want to use anything in this house to cut her open, will you be able to make a blade small enough to make an incision?"

Blade nodded and made a small blade grow out of his index finger. "Just tell me where to cut."

Ira sat on the right of her and Doc sat on the left. Vortex waited at the end of the table, his hands resting against the wood as he watched Blade cut her wound open. Four hours later Bunny was breathing softly, and her wounds were stitched closed. Torn pieces of Vortex's shirt were scattered on the floor, completely soaked in blood. He didn't like watching what Ira and Doc did to Bunny, but he didn't want to leave her alone, not when he was the one who was with her when she was stabbed.

"Ira!" Warlock called from the living room.

"Keep an eye on her," Ira said to Doc as he quickly got up and ran to the living room. When he walked into the room, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Psylocke?" He slowly said as he saw Psylocke standing in the middle of the room, his head hanging low and his eyes wide open, staring at his feet.

Psylocke slowly rose his head, turning it towards Ira who was staring at him with wide eyes. Ira took a step towards him but stopped when he noticed that Psylocke wasn't looking at him, but passed him, with tears in his eyes. When he turned around, he saw a picture on the wall that he hadn't noticed before. As he looked back at Psylocke he was on his knee's screaming as he grabbed at his throat. Psylocke's screams were deafening and loud enough to gather all the free mutants into the living room.

Frenzy quickly moved into action, entering Psylocke's mind and telling him to calm down. When Psylocke had finally stopped screaming, Warlock helped him up off the ground. He quickly looked away when Psylocke's shirt pulled away from his neck and showed a scar that wrapped around his entire throat where Reaper had practically ripped his head from his body.

"It's okay," Warlock exclaimed as he brought him to the couch and sat him down.

"Where... is... he..." Psylocke said between sobs.

"We don't know," Ira said, knowing it was better to tell him the truth then to lie.

Morph looked at Angel and nodded to him. Angel nodded back and slowly ushered the other mutants out of the room. Angel decided he would take this time to get everyone into assigned rooms. The farmhouse turned out to be an eight-bedroom house, each bedroom large enough to hold at least four people. There wasn't a lot of furniture, but that didn't mean the mutants couldn't find any. As Angel worked with the other mutants, Psylocke sat on the couch with Warlock, Morph, and Polaris. Ira and Inferno stood in front of the fire, making sure it didn't go out as they talked.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Psylocke finally asked.

Ira took a deep breath in but ended up being silenced by Polaris who spoke up instead. "After he realized what he had done he ran. We don't know where he went, and we don't know if he's coming back."

Psylocke looked at Polaris with a quivering lip and tear stained cheeks. "You didn't look for him?"

"We couldn't, we had to leave," Warlock exclaimed.

"So, you just left him behind?" Psylocke whispered, looking down at his hands. Yes, he knew that Reaper had killed him, but that didn't change how he felt about him. It was the first person he had ever had feelings for. And he knew that Reaper didn't kill him because he wanted to, he killed him because he was Reaper.

Back at the lake Reaper was lying at the edge of the water, his back flat against the dirt. He breathed heavily as he stared up at the blue sky. He cried, screamed, threw boulders, and broke things, but that didn't change that fact that he didn't successfully drown. He absolutely hated that he was immortal. He had tried many times before, but he had never been this angry after coming back to life. This feeling he had was entirely different.

With an angry yell he jumped up and walked past the lake towards the cliff that looked over a field that seemed to be more than two hundred feet down from the cliffs edge. Taking a deep breath in he closed his eyes and mentally slapped himself for what he had done to Psylocke. When he opened his eyes, he decided he was going to jump. If he couldn't drown, he was going to try to make his body broken enough that it wouldn't be impossible to heal.

As he stepped off the cliff, he let his arms open wide and turned his body around, so his back faced the ground. He was hoping that when he landed it would snap every bone in his spine, making it impossible for him to come back, that or he'd suffer for eternity for what he did to Psylocke. However, as he fell halfway down, he felt someone enter his mind. His eyes quickly shot open and he let out a loud, "NO!" as he fell closer to the ground. He found himself reaching for nothing but air as he heard the familiar voice as clear as day.

Reaper... come back. Please.