When The World Burned

Chapter 13

Five Years Later...

Scar glared into the mirror with his left grey eye surrounded by black sclera that had once been white almost three and a half years ago. The right eye was sealed shut by a long, jagged scar. His black hair was layered down to his shoulder, sleeker and strangely softer, which annoyed the hell out of him. Every time he cut it the horrid locks would be back by the time he woke up the next day.

Reaching up, he touched at the grey fur tips of his pointed ears with a grimace. Sharp claws stroked along his tan skin, cutting a small line. Black blood with a blue hue glinting in the light pooled from the wound, dipping onto his sharp claw as he pulled the appendage away. Licking at the blood, he growled at the terrible taste that now greeted his tongue. Blood had always had its own taste of iron, but this blood – mutant blood – was repulsive and tasted like death. He was dead, yet alive all at once and it was distressing.

More so, it was enraged him.

"Staring at yourself won't make you go back to normal, Billy." A familiar voice reached his ears and Scar turned to see his cousin standing in the doorway. At twenty-years-old she had fully developed into her curves and become an elegant woman. Her brown eyes were wide with concern, dark locks held up in a loose bun at the back of her head. She offered him a sweet smile, reminding him that there was still someone out there that cared, despite his changes.

Letting out a low chuckle that sounded too much like a growl, he grabbed up his shirt from the sink counter and pulled it on to hide the many scars running in jagged patterns along his muscled body. "I know, cousin," He answered in a deep voice. "I just wish the only way to live had not required this. Everyone looks at me like I'm some kind of monster now."

Shaking her head, his cousin stepped forward and adjusted the shirt for him. "They look at you with hope." She corrected him.

"Hope?" He snorted. "That's childish."

Rolling her eyes, she stepped out of the bathroom. "It's not childish if others believe they can go to the surface one day." She explained and sat down in one of the many chairs he had in his room. "It took you five years to become completely immune. You've officially become like Kage, like the President. Isn't that something to be proud of?"

Following her out of the room, he snatched up his heavy boots and slipped them onto his feet. As he tightened the straps on them, he answered, "Of course I'm proud of the advancements, but what's the price? What could I become one day? I definitely don't want to become an animal..." Pressing a hand to his right shoulder, he recalled when Kage tore the flesh there with sharp teeth. "I don't want to become like Kage."

"I can promise you that you're nothing like Kage was." Rita waved a hand dismissively, watching him collect weapons from a wall case. Strapping on a custom-made weapons' harness, he slid a sword into its sheath at his hip and grabbed a spear he let hang against his back. Shoving a dagger into a hidden sheath just below his left arm, he snatched up a small satchel bag and pulled it on.

Turning, he faced his cousin with a calmness that made no sense, even to him. "I'm going to bring Rue back here to save everyone." He stated through a growl. Just thinking of that strangely skinned girl made the rage in his blood boil. The pencil she had stabbed him with was currently hidden in a pocket, freshly sharpened and wrapped in a paper towel within a small plastic tube around it. He would stab that pretty neck of hers until black and blue stained his hands.

"You're not here right now." Rita's accusation brought his thoughts back to the here and now. Grey gaze falling to her, he let his lips twitch into a strained smile.