Hero & Villain

Calen | 1174w

As soon as Macer let's me go I crumple to the floor, breathing raggedly. He wasn't completely cutting off my air, but it was still hard to breathe. I shudder and wrinkle my nose at the heavy scent of smoke. I struggle to my feet, regretting it slightly when I realize the smoke is even worse when I'm standing. Strangely, when Macer was holding me I didn't notice the smoke.

No, I didn't just not notice it, it definitely wasn't there. Can he control it? I always thought he could just fly and had minor super strength to go with his ruthlessness, but... is it possible he's gaining more powers?

I see the door is left open, and fire is spilling through, creeping along the floor and walls toward me. I lean on the wall for support as I start hurrying toward the broken window. My breathing quickens, the smoke making my eyes sting and water. This is all too familiar. I have to get away.

I don't even notice the broken glass shredding my palms as I leap through the window. I stumble through the house, unable to see or think clearly due to the thick smoke. I find my way to the window I used to get in, wincing as I step on bits of glass. It's a wonder I didn't get cut up by this window as well, but at the time I was still actively trying not to get hurt. Now I couldn't care less, as long as I get away from the fire.

I look out the window, and suddenly this apartment seems very high up. I reel away from it, crouching down for a moment to clear my head. It's okay, I can do this, I'm Falcon still. Falcon isn't a weakling like my other main form, I'll be fine.

I straighten up, feeling determined. I have to live to get Macer back for this. He'll regret ever coming to this city once I'm finished with him.

With that, I hurl myself out the window, heat from the flames spurring me on. I unfurl my wings slowly, trying not to strain my injury too badly. I still groan at the feeling, faltering in my flight. I don't know where to go, both my home and hideout are destroyed, and there's no way I can make it back to my cabin in this condition.

I decide on the park. It's big and open, I'll find a spot where no one can see me land.

The longer I fly, the harder it is for me to keep up this form. Thoughts of what Macer said are consuming me, eating away at the confidence that comes with my Falcon form. I've just made it to the park when my wings flicker and my eyesight wanes, warning me. If I don't land soon, I'm going to fall.

I don't react fast enough. I'm still thirty feet from the ground when my wings completely disappear.

Why must I be so horribly emotional? I'm about to die because I couldn't control my emotions and thoughts. I whimper and squeeze my eyes shut as air rushes past me for a short moment.

Then, to my horror and relief, I land safely on my feet before passing out.

I am now two lives down.

***

I wake up to the snap of a branch, uncertain at first where I am. I sit up and look around, not noticing at first how dark it is. It's early morning, the sun is just barely shedding its light over the city. The sound that woke me finally registers, and I stand on unsteady, sore legs. I lean on a nearby tree for support after one of my ankles gives out.

I faintly hear the sound of voices, getting closer with each second that passes. I think about what to do, my tail swishing anxiously. I look up the tree I'm under, seeing that it's a big elm. I look down at myself, seeing I'm still in my hero suit. I can't let people see me like this, they would mock me.

My eyes start to water slightly at the thought. Nobody would call me a hero anymore, they would just call me weak. I couldn't even stop Macer from killing that man.

I step back from the tree, looking up at its huge branches. One is close enough to the ground that I could jump up and grab it, then make my way up the tree from there. I limp over to it, my anxiety rising as the voices get closer. Somehow nobody found me all of yesterday and through the night, and I can only hope nobody will find me until I can change forms again.

I stand under the limb, the height suddenly seeming higher than it did before. It's at least twelve feet up. I grit my teeth and crouch slightly, then leap for it. My arms reach the top, but instead of being able to grip it my hands start to slip.

A spike of fear slices through me at the thought of falling. I scramble at the branch with my fingers, until something new happens. My fingernails are replaced by dagger-like claws which sink into the bark and hold me in place.

After a moment of shock, I easily swing up onto the branch. I sit there for a moment, straddling the branch, as I stare at my hands.

The main difference is my new claws, but there are also brown streaks snaking away from the claws. The brown matches my ears and tail, except my hands don't have any fur on them. They are, however, covered in drying blood.

A laugh rings out through the park, and I realize with shock the people are almost directly below me. I lean against the trunk and curl up, hoping desperately they don't see me. I'm probably not supposed to be in the tree. They might hurt me if they find me somewhere I'm not supposed to be. I hardly breathe until they're out of sigh again.

I unfurl from my fetal position, then hurry to get higher up. I stop about thirty feet from the ground, in a crook of the tree where three limbs come together.

More people pass beneath me, and each time, I shudder in fear of being discovered.

I drift off to sleep at some point, only to be jolted awake by the sound of a groan. I rub my eyes, having found the claws disappeared, and look around as I take a moment to get my bearings. There's the sound of feet scuffing the ground, then a soft thump.

I cautiously peer over the edge of the limb, wondering if whoever it is could be hurt. I see someone sitting Indian style in the grass, leaning forward with his head in his hands. A slight breeze ruffles his midnight black hair, consequently caring his scent toward me. My eyes widen and I let out a soft, involuntary whine.

It's Lance.