His Own Image

Chapter One

One Year Later

After running around for one year, I'd gotten a pretty good hang of things. Mainly because I had actually gotten better at fighting because the minority of my victims wouldn't go down so easily. At first, I had actually used my powers, but after they'd started getting a little out of control, I'd gotten a small knife because I could control it better.

I also went around during the day and surprised almost everyone I passed by because of the scars all over me, but I eventually got used to the surprise that came from them.

I'd also gotten my hair cut, to where it was shaved on the sides and the back, but longer up top and always to the left. I'd gotten it cut after I'd gotten some decent clothes from a store. Personally, I didn't care whether people spotted me at night or not, so I had decided to get a light pink hoodie, light blue jeans, black gloves, and black converse. See? I didn't care whether people saw me or not, because I made sure to strangle my victims and use my knife as little as possible. I'd never targeted anyone in specific, but I always killed them if they had rather horrible emotions.

I'd also learned some new words over the year I've been out of that facility. Like rape, murder, drugs, violence, and everything in between.

And whenever I was walking by multiple people and someone had rather horrid emotions towards a female walking alongside me, I turned to them and gripped onto their arm, telling them I had to talk to them before bringing them into an alley or a bathroom of a place I was by at that time, and I strangled them. If they fought, I fought, and they always died in the end.

If they were drug addicts, and I knew if they were because they smelled so so bad, and they had no hope of ever recovering, I ended them of their suffering because what was the good of it? They were just rotting away, killing themselves, so I decided to put an end to it.

But... I've actually found someone who cares for me even with all my scars and bad nature, and he told me that he feels like he knows my parents. "Do you know Him?" I had asked him one day.

"What do you mean 'Him'? Your father?"

"Yes. Do you know Him?"

"I do. He's my boss. You look just like him though, Elian."

After he had said that, I had basically tackled him, and then put him in a chokehold as he tried to claw my arm away. "Don't you ever say that ever again. Got it?" I had mumbled. He nodded frantically and I let go and got up. He had gasped for air and gotten an understanding and never mentioned Him again.

The man that cares for me, his name is Ryan, and he's probably one of the best people I've ever met. Actually, he's the father I'd always wanted, and I'd never want anyone to replace him.

I was actually heading over to his place right now. I'd just killed another one of those rapists, seeing as there's quite a lot of those in my town. The ground beneath me, I could tell, was a sidewalk. I was the only one out here besides some vehicles that sped past me at an abnormal speed since the speed limit wasn't actually 60 miles per hour.

I had my head down, my left hand in my hoodie pocket, and my right hand tracing over the scars on my face as my big ass sunglasses hid my wandering eyes. There was very little activity throughout the town that I could feel, but the forest was alive.

The forest was alive, and it made me feel alive, even as I still ran my gloved hand over my scars.

After a while, I looked up and turned to the right, and I immediately knew that something was wrong. There was something wrong with the smell inside the house, and there was no active mind that I could feel.