Some folks were a bit annoyed because of the lack of dialogue in some of these chapters. Y'all do remember there's a language barrier between them, yes? A lot of their dialogue would come out stilted or short, if they said much of anything at all in the first place. While there will be more dialogue here and there, it's still early in the story, so we have a little ways further to go before Lucy's English is good enough in character for her to start speaking longer sentences...please be patient and enjoy the ride, yeah?
Disclaimer: I own the rights to neither Elfen Lied nor Prototype. This is a work of fiction for entertainment only.
The crack split the tree from the roots up, and as half of it fell, Alex's reflexes propelled him off to the side. The crash was loud enough to make him wince, but he didn't have the luxury of just sitting around and hoping the sound stopped ringing in his ears. He had to keep moving, lest another tree come bashing down on his skull. And, of course, his luck would have that exact thing happen! No sooner did the crash from the other tree become a resounding echo did a great oak come bearing down on him. Such a noble tree, thick with decades upon decades upon decades of rings, and it all came to a halt as it hurled toward him by force of something he couldn't see. The hooded man rolled off into the underbrush as it hit the ground, and he actually had to cover his ears as the great kaboom permeated everything around him. It was bad enough the ground trembled under his feet; he swore he could even feel the rattle in his teeth!
He wasn't afraid of her powers. He'd made that clear from the beginning when he didn't look concerned about her destroying the television in that house. She hadn't known how to ask about it then, with that language barrier stuck firmly in place, so it was left as something she allowed to float around in her head every so often. No, floating high in the canopy of the forest, the diclonius watched the hooded man grumble and curse as he dusted leaves off himself.
When he'd first suggested it, she thought him mad. Sparring? No, that was stupid. That was a stupid idea to be sure. They'd end up trashing wherever they fought, or she'd probably punch out a vital organ of his again by accident. She had to pause at that thought and wonder why it kept slipping into her head when she thought she'd put it behind her. There was no way that could have happened, right? If it had, he wouldn't be as kind to her as he was . . . if one could call his behavior kind, at any rate. Either way, fighting him, even if just to spar, seemed strange to her. She wasn't that good with her hands or fists. She was only good at running away, and if she used her extra "hands," he'd surely die, wouldn't he? But he was faster than she gave him credit for. He zipped through the brush like an animal, dodging and rolling whatever branches or rocks she threw at him. He must have trained often, wherever he came from. New York, wasn't it? He'd mentioned it offhand, so she barely remembered.
It's only right for a homey diner to sell overdone burgers, greasy fries, and other artery-clogging foodstuffs to satisfy the belly and make you feel right at home. The appeal was lost on her. Humans filled every table and booth, their chatter a dull roar of mangled accents, the smell of burning grease and charcoal was almost as rank as the waitresses fog of perfume, the floor was so unwashed that your shoes would stick to it just long enough to make that "snick" noise when you pulled your foot up again not even a second later, and the food...well, okay, the food was actually alright. Better than it had any right to be, but delicious and hand-crafted. The chef, as grizzled as he looked, kept his hands and the grill clean so you got the glorious taste of home-cooked Angus beef with none of the sweat and grime. As she chewed eat bite of the burger bigger than both her fists, Lucy actually came close to a smile.
Almost.
Alex pulled up a chair, turned it backward, and sat in it with his arms resting on its back. A strange way to sit at the table, she thought, but being halfway through her burger, she didn't remark on it. She kept her eyes on the newspaper he'd dropped on the table, and it was hard not to. The headline "GRISLY SCENE AT NASHVILLE BAR" greeted her, and the burger on her tongue suddenly tasted of ash. Swallowing it was a chore, helped only by a swig of her iced tea. What did he mean to say by showing her this? More importantly, where did he get this newspaper? She couldn't remember how far they'd driven, but it was surely far enough away from that place to make a newspaper hard to get.
"Lifted it off a trucker," he said, answering her question without her even asking, "Messy, isn't it?"
Naturally, the article saved readers the displeasure of pictures of the carnage. Though it was on the front page, the only picture to go along with the story was of the bar's entrance covered in yellow tape and surrounded by police. But if she squinted, she could swear she saw a severed limb in the shadow of the door.
"And?"
Alex shrugged, eyebrows going up with his shoulders. He looked down at his basket of food, chicken-fried steak complete with fries, Texas Toast, and gravy, and while the look on his face wasn't disgust, per se, he clearly wasn't hungry. He looked at the meal as if weighing the pros and cons of eating it at all, like he was on a diet and this was the only "healthy" thing he could find. If he could only know her thoughts, he would surely laugh. As if it could be that simple.
"I'm not gonna scold you, but we can't be that sloppy again. Once or twice...well, what happens, happens. But if it becomes a regular occurrence, we'll have to deal with the law, and that's more of a pain than you'd think."
As he spoke, she finished her burger and shoved it away so it rested atop the newspaper. Her mouth stayed a grim line as she met his gaze, tired eyes glaring at him dully. He wanted her to be more subtle, did he? As if he could know how easy that was! She could kill hundreds of humans at once with no one the wiser, and she could probably do it blindfolded! But what did he expect her to say? "Sorry, it won't happen again" or some such nonsense? What did she owe him? Nothing like that, that's for damn sure. Her mouth twitched as she ached to fire off a sarcastic response, but she stopped herself. Not only did she not know an insulting string of words to fit the situation, but, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Her killing technique was sloppy that night. She could be so much more tactful than that, she thought, she'd done as much for five years before being found out. Before her friend, that dear girl...
...blood spatters on the grass and the cry of a breaking heart echoing into the shaking leaves...
Slowly her hand drew into a fist on the table, and she lowered her gaze to the newspaper again, then to his uneaten food. She could go for seconds, but she'd rather not touch what's his.
"Eat...you're making me uneasy."
Alex stared at her a second, then chuckled and lifted a gravy-smothered fried steak strip to his mouth.
"If you get mad, you should spar with me." At her confused expression, he continued. "Throw things at me, in a deserted place like the woods if need be. I don't mind."
She was skeptical, and it showed in how her mouth twisted up all strangely into her cheek. He would've laughed, but chortling with a mouthful of steak isn't exactly proper manners.
"Just think about it, alright, Kitten?"
Lucy sighed instead of giving a proper answer. He took it as a yes and shoved another steak tender past his teeth. He was so used to just absorbing food directly, either through his tendrils or his hands, so eating was still quite the novel idea. He could see why humans had the tendency to overeat: when their food could taste this good and there was plenty for everyone, who could blame them?
He was fast, and his punches came too close to her head for comfort far too often. The bark where her head once was crackled and fell to the ground in tiny fragments, but he was never too slow to keep up with her. As fast as he is in chasing her and throwing punches, not once does she fear for her life. He's just a human, albeit a very fast, very smart alec-y one. There's nothing he can do to even touch her, let alone hurt her! Still, she can't allow him to get close. An enemy getting too close and landing a hit would be the worst, even if they were brutally torn apart by her vectors the second after inflicting a wound.
She flung herself backward through the trees, too far for him to get close in the next few seconds, and plotted for the frantic few seconds she was allowed. There were plenty of rocks around, and twigs and branches were scattered all about her feet. As soon as he got close...
He was close to twelve feet away when the first of the stones went flying at him. After them were the sticks, and she was careful not to throw them too hard. Killing him would ruin the point of trying to spar in the first place, and even if she did kill him, that pesky voice in the back of her mind insisted she couldn't. It hadn't worked the first time...right? Shaking her head to clear those thoughts away, she sprinted back toward him with more stones to provide her cover. They missed him by miles, though some landed close enough to serve as a warning. One did strike him, and it hurt more than he expected. Her eyes couldn't see it, but his skin hardened in response to the hit, so even if she decided to go at him with the intent to kill, he would only shrug it off like a raindrop. Better she not know about that, he thought.
He's distracted just long enough for one of her vectors to smack into his side, and away he flew into the dirt several feet away. Sputtering a curse under his breath, he rolled over onto his knees and picked himself up in time to see her coming closer. She didn't aim to hit him, not yet, and instead of strike him again, the ghostly hands shoved hard against the ground to aid her jump and send her sailing over his head. It only took two to push her, and the other dozen sailed at him in punches that sent him sprawling flat on his stomach as she landed not far away. She didn't have to see him to know the fists connected to his body; the distant thuds reverberated through her ears and her brain like the beats of the sweetest song.
She didn't know how he got behind her so fast, but all it took was a slap on the back, the jovial sort a friend would give, and he was off into the cover of the trees again, laughing to himself. With a growl, she chased after him, eyes scanning this way and that for any sign of that infernal gray and black against the browns and greens of the woods. She didn't see him surging down at her from the air until too late; her only warning was seeing something small in the air suddenly get closer and closer and closer, then suddenly there he was, slamming a decently sized hole into the forest floor and just barely missing her as she skidded away to the side. How in blazes did he even get that high up? It would take her all of her vectors to soar so high up! She pondered it all in a panic as she dashed through the saplings, and Alex cackled louder and louder as he chased after her. Much to her dismay, he kept getting up too close behind her, then dashed away at the last second. Only her vectors flailing wildly behind her, some sharp and some not, kept him from slapping her on the back again in that "I got you" manner.
She didn't realize she'd tripped until she got a mouthful of grass and dried leaves, but what tripped her was a mystery. Something had grabbed her ankle, she was sure of it! But what? It wasn't a hand, as Alex was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't leave very many options. She probably snagged her foot on a tree root, but in that case, she'd have felt it around her shoe's toe and not her ankle. She pulled herself up in a hurry to look for whatever tripped her and saw nothing. Except...no, it had to be her eyes tricking her. She thought she saw a snake sliding away into the grass.
Lucy backed up to a tree and hunkered down, shoulders hunched and eyes scanning her surroundings. She didn't have to wait long for Alex to slink out of the shadows, a grin far too wicked on his face. He was having fun, the sheer glee on his lips and in his eyes said as much, but it was almost too much fun. He was enjoying it a little too much, bordering on a kind of maniacal she's only seen from herself when she's been in the middle of a killing field. The shadows clung to him, hiding parts of his face from her, and she could swear she saw them move on his right arm.
Actually, was that...tentacle? Yes, it was. Or...no, it was several tentacles, dozens of them! Actual tentacles, she could see them roiling over his jacket-clad arm and across his hand, or what looked like his hand. No more was it pink and fleshy, but far bigger than his torso, flatter, pitch black and leathery, with tendrils all across it's back and palm. And those fingers...no, claws! Four of them, different than the standard five fingers, and all ending in viciously sharp, bright white nails. Each one was sharper than the finest blade, and thought his arm hung passively by his side, she could just see him reaching up and cutting her to ribbons with it.
"You tired, Kitten? I think that's about enough for today, huh?"
His smile was too giddy for such a statement. He looked ready to fight still, but he was calling it quits? Did he even realize what his arm looked like? Or was it just a trick? He could just be trying to lull her into a false sense of security, a voice whispered in her ears. The wondering was too much to bear, and, snarling, she lunged close enough to him that her vectors could reach him. His claw flew off from the violent force of her vector slicing it off his wrist, and his eyes went wide in their sockets as he stared down at the stump. She might as well have tossed a bucket of ice water on his head.
Lucy stood off to the side in the clearing, arms folded across her chest, as she glared at nothing in particular. Alex was flat on his back in the grass behind her, staring up at the sky above. So many stars twinkled down at him, and as he took another deep breath through his nose, he wondered why she didn't just walk out of the woods and leave him there. The silence had stretched for about five straight minutes, and only the music of the crickets and the night birds pierced through it. He had to say something, he told himself, he had to apologize for startling her. But would she even accept it? Or would she start walking off like he expected as soon as the first word left his lips?
"Look...I'm really sorry about that. I didn't realize I'd...changed. My arm, that is." He kept his eyes on the sky, but they soon drifted to the side like he was a scolded puppy, and, in a rare moment of his life, he meant it. He could only imagine what he must have looked like coming up on her like that with his claws out. He couldn't even blame her for cutting his arm off! But, deep in his gut brewed a terrible dread. She surely hated him now, and she'd leave for sure. She'd leave, disgusted with this monster parading around as a man without telling her, and he'd be alone, wandering, with not even a decent person to talk to. It shouldn't have made his stomach curl.
"Don't...do that again. Ever."
Her voice, soft as it ever was, broke through the quiet chirping of the bugs and birds, shattering the quiet all around him. She still wasn't moving, so he sat up to get a better look at her. Was she waiting for him to keep speaking? Did she want more of an apology? Certainly she wanted an explanation, but he wasn't at all sure where to start. It's not exactly easy to give your entire life story in the first place, much less when it starts with "Once upon a time, a sociopath made a virus and it ate his bullet-riddled corpse when he smashed the vial on the ground." That'd send her running for sure.
"I won't. I promise."
A promise might not even mean much, he told himself. If she thought him a threat, any word out of his mouth might as well be a lie to placate her. He'd think the same thing were he in her shoes. Looking over at her, he both wished he could see her face and was grateful he couldn't. He held his breath as she lowered her arms to her side, but she didn't turn around to look at him just yet.
"You're strange."
Alex eyed her, and he was stunned to see her so blasé about it all. That was it? No judgment? No disgust? No outright revulsion or hatred? No, she was just stating it as a fact, as if him being a weirdo was no different than the day's weather forecast. His eyes were wide, but he closed them as a little smile crept onto his lips and turned his gaze back to where his hands rested across his legs.
She was certainly something.
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
Lucy said nothing more, but inside, her mind was surging with thoughts she could only barely contain. Well, at least now she knew why her powers seemed to bother him so little. Compared to his own, hers were interesting, true, but nothing spectacular. Or so she assumed. He'd had those powers all along, he must have! But why hide them? He'd seen what she could do, so how were his any stranger than hers? Granted, there was a world of difference between invisible hands and tentacles, but on some level, they were the same thing. They meant the same thing: he wasn't human. He was like her, an outsider that only looked the same on the surface while housing something completely otherworldly within himself. Terrifying? A little. Fascinating? Definitely. Shocking? Without a doubt. Just how much of him was human and how much wasn't? Did his clothes hide more obvious signs of his inhumanity like her hat did for her? Was his humanoid shape his "true form" or did he look more beastly, like something more suitable for those wicked claws? So many questions to ask, but she didn't want to ask any of them right off the bat and she only knew how to phrase half of them.
She wished he'd told her he was different than humans. It would've given them a lot more to talk about a lot sooner, barrier and all.
