Part 3: The Renegades
BEAST
Note: Ohai. That's not really a note.
A little bit shorter here! Not by much. Solid ten pages in Word, but it always looks so much shorter here. That's alright! Here it is, anyway. Again, lots of nasty language, so if you're sensitive on the matter, I apologize!
I wanted to try and update Endemic before this one, but there's honestly not a whole lot that needs to be done with Endemic: Splash. We saw Topher's reunion already. The main point of Splash is actually to see how Katalyn ties into Endemic. She's important to that story, but the chronology preceded her quite a bit. Keep in mind that The Renegades takes place while Edge is recruiting some more followers, such as Al. This is merely Katalyn's perspective, while I had planned to do Edge's himself. Edge is a special boy though, after all. I might give him some more time.
DISCLAIMER: Even though there aren't many in this chapter, I still don't own the 'mons!
Poised in a stance prepared for combat, I rolled my shoulders, my sinuses choking on the arcane chemicals in the air. My eyes flicked across the peculiar lady, hovering on a sphere of chromatic lights, smaller variants mingling around her shoulders like fireflies. I'd no idea how to feel about them or what this mystic was capable of. Her steady gaze skewered me like a lance, still as stone, yet watching as my own eyes moved in an attempt to predict any sort of first move she'd make. It was impossible. She wasn't relying on her body. This was not my fight, but something kept me from backing down. Maybe it was her look. Maybe it was her smell. Maybe it was something beneath the surface. Too much time passed for my liking. I stood tall and crossed my arms, shrugging my battle stance off.
"So." I began, curt and cross. "You're just going to fly around over there?"
"What else would you have me do? Striking the first blow is brutish. I'd rather let you!" The cat woman giggled, the back of a paw over her mouth, as if to cover it. "Besides, you have to beat me if you want to get to Cruce. How badly do you want that?"
"I wouldn't have even left my house if I didn't care enough for the dork." I said.
"Care for him?" The woman replied, blinking once, her lips curling into another of her irritating, small smiles. I could even see a blush through her white cheeks. "Cute! Show me how much you care for him, Miss Katty."
"Shit." I spat, shaking my head, refusing this offer. "Yeah, you're good at getting me angry," I endorsed, my focus finding its way back to the girl who'd followed me through a battered homeland just to keep from feeling scared. "And you really want me to hurt you."
"I want you to try," The cat outed herself with a smirk, exposing her ploy. Really, I knew she was pulling me right into a trap anyway. Maybe. She was doing an incredible job at goading me into whatever it was she wanted. "You're a lot stronger than you think."
"I don't need you to patronize me," I scoffed. "I know myself inside and out."
"Oh, you do not. You just don't," She shook her head, keeping it still at one side, her orange eyes on mine. "You've already been pried open, and you won't close for a long time. You've got so much potential."
"Opened?" I furrowed my eyebrows, spent, weary of obscurities. "I'm not going to figure riddles out. Give it to me clean."
"There is no 'clean', and that'll become pretty obvious soon. Come now, Kat, fight little miss me, won't you? I'm not just doing this to be annoying. I have my reasons." She said, waving me closer with one of her small fingers.
"Fine! Enough with the 'Kat' thing! You called, and here I am, now get out of my way." I demanded, slamming both of my fists into one another, the knuckles flaring with pain. I threw one back, ready to break into a sprint, before doing so, darting for the feminine anomaly. I felt her ruse from a mile away, forcing myself to stop only feet before her. To my surprise, she'd not even moved in that entire run, fake-out included. She just sat on her energy sphere, smiling, as if she knew every move I was going to make. I became interested. I crouched, arm back. Pushing myself from the ground, I swung forward, prompting an uppercut against the cat, careful not to remove my feet from beneath me.
My chest pounded when I failed to make impact, jaw slammed shut in a flash of flight, frustration, and embarrassment. Lights licked across my face. My arm was raised into the air aimlessly. I dropped it back to my side, searching the lot in front of me.
"Katalyn, she's kinda behind you!" Mari hollered, cupping her paws around her mouth.
"Spoilers!" The lady giggled, her voice soft, near my ear, lowering to the ground. I turned to face her. She had dismounted her sphere, the smaller ones around her perishing as well. She was no taller than a child, even though her proportions were adult, making her considerably smaller than any human adult I've seen. But then she was far from human. "Look, I'll make it easy for you."
"Don't." I objected, twirling, picking my leg up to deliver a hook kick high enough to slam her head into the asphalt. All she needed to do was duck. She was fast enough to do so, out of pure luck or prediction alone. I hadn't the time, patience, or, admittedly, ability to analyze her. She was a different breed of fighter. There was no analogy I could make. I carried through with the spin, letting my other leg out from underneath me to sweep beneath the small lady. She hopped over it. I used the same leg to lift me into her, resorting to a tackle. She hadn't the time to move. I caught her.
Adjusting myself to match her height, I held both of her paws behind her back, her three tails casually patting against my chest and neck. She was too calm, even though she was in my grasp. In fact, she was... giggling, like being tickled.
"I told you not to do that. If you want to fight me, take me seriously. Don't give me your bullshit." I commanded, growling into wherever I thought her ear started. She leaned into me lazily, her head tilting back to the point where she was looking straight up at me, her gaze infuriatingly sweet, mocking, with a story to tell me.
"I am taking you seriously, like always! It's actually the other way around," She mewed, evaporating into a brief burst of lights accompanied by a strange electrical sound, as if she were stretching space itself. My hands were now wrapped around naught but air, and I stumbled, my body searching for something to justify its previous position. "You're not taking me seriously." I heard her say directly above me, descending, a force crashing into my nose. I was thrown backward with enough force to catch air, sliding against the ground until my head touched the force field magic blocking off the entrance to the hospital. Laying on my back, I stared into the sky, noticing Mari above me. I grunted, holding my nose, afraid to release my palm from that spot. It wasn't broken. It wasn't even damaged. I should have been decapitated with the amount of force she shed on me, but I barely felt fazed by whatever it was the woman did—an axe kick, maybe.
"Hey! You okay?!" Mari yelled, as arbitrary and cliché as she could be.
"I don't even know." I groaned, pulling myself back to my feet. The cat woman was standing with her feet curled over two of the energy spheres from moments prior, balanced a meter above the ground. She hopped from them, the two orbs circling and dancing around her.
"Katsy Kat, you're really doing it all wrong," She scolded. "You're so limited! If you even want to get close to Cruce, you're going to need to be better than that. Stop being human! It's boring. Evolve with me!"
"You're too much of a sociopath to tell me how to fight." I said, throwing caution to sick wind and taking the lack of damage for granted. My body was burning inside, brimming outside. The more I clenched my fists, the more it felt like I was about to rip myself open and let that heat out, caged like a predator.
"Sociopath? Hardly. If anything, you and I both know pretty well that I'm courageous to be messing with you," She said, sirens in the distance accenting her voice. With her arms lowered, paws delicately fanned out, facing outward, she bowed to me, before lifting her head, eyes opening, a white grin crossing her face. "My name is Xima. 'She-mah'. And I'll be seeing more of you."
"I didn't ask for that." I dismissed, rushing the cat person, a flurry of jabs in mind. With each punch I took, she tilted her head to one side or the other, waltzing around my blows whilst continuing the conversation.
"I know!" She chirped, missing a blow to the shoulder. "But I don't care. That's the only way to make any progress with you!"
"Goddammit, go away!" I shouted, my head pounding, moves becoming more sloppy and sluggish until they lost their definition as punches. I thrust my palms into my temples, doing what I can to remedy myself of a sudden headsore, my brain broiling, insides aflame again. In one final attempt to make any sort of contact with the feline mystic, I reached out, lethargic. I felt fur, my hand wrapping around a gentle shoulder. Desperate, I studied the almost bored expression that this Xima person adopted. "Stop doing this to me. Stop..."
"I'm not doing a thing." Xima said.
"Why did..." I paused, losing myself in the labyrinth of inquiry left unsolved. I began to droop down, my tired knees meeting cracked pavement. My hand around the feline fell with me, both fists pushing into the ground. The air melted onto me, weighing down my shoulders, time ticking. "Why did Laza just take my world away?"
"Laza didn't take anything from you. Everything is still here. You just have to fight harder for it," Xima explained. "Pain and hurt are different, and Laza's not here to hurt anyone. There's going to be pain, but that pain is what will lift everyone so much higher—make you so much stronger. Unfortunately, you and Mari are some of the only ones to get the worst of the pain. No. Not pain. You two are hurt and you don't know it."
"Xima, hey." Mari began, her voice quivering. "It seems like you know a lot, but it's also like you're contradicting yourself. Plus, we don't know even anything about Laza."
"I know. Laza appears to those whom become 'infected'. So, have either of you seen Laza at all?"
"No... We've only seen some sort of dead Cruce."
"I've seen something," I said. "He said he wanted a body."
"A body? Mm. Then I'm... sorry," Xima started, her voice making the air heavier. "You haven't seen Laza. You still may see him soon, but..." The feline bit her lip, squinting. "Katalyn, you're not ready to go in there." She strayed, looking to the white building.
I gave those words their time to explore the ends of my head. Not ready, she said. I couldn't even perceive of what that meant in this context, where the world was falling apart and an alien poison was spreading. Not ready, she said, to explore a hospital with a sick friend. Not ready, she said, to prove that Cruce was alive. Her judgment meant so much less to me than I wanted it to. To make it all the more bitter, she knew so much that I didn't.
"Shit, Xima," I coughed, knuckles against the asphalt. "You're putting on too big of a show for it to mean nothing. What are you protecting?"
"Well... you." She answered. "I'm protecting you."
"Why?"
"Because you're important." She muttered.
"Tch. No thank you," I scoffed, smirking at the cat woman. "Why'm I important? What does that mean?"
She didn't answer me. The only thing I got as a reply was a siren over another siren, coming closer, pitch shifting with its distance, lights in sight, approaching from behind the cat. She giggled.
"I'm all out of time! Give the authorities my regards! And by that, I mean kick them lots. Buh-bye now!" She sang, leaping into the air and crossing her legs as her sphere of bright energy formed beneath her to sit upon. The giant orb engulfed her in a flash, before shrinking away, leaving no trace of the lady. Well, almost no trace. That arcane scent lingered, my nose accommodating, while my ears still never got used to the damn sirens screaming at me, chasing me. They began to cut short one by one, cars screeching to a stop in front of me, car doors opening and shutting, guns cocking.
I didn't look ahead, but I knew who they were. Mari was beside me, tugging at my scarf. I knew what she wanted. That wasn't the problem. The problem was what I wanted.
"Valentine!" The man shouted. The voice sounded annoyingly familiar. "The both of you! Stay on the ground and get your hands in the air!"
I wanted all to expunge myself from my own body. I was sick and corrupted. I didn't need that bitch Xima or this Laza person to tell me anything. My boiling blood and burning skin told me everything I needed to know.
"You have three seconds to comply. Hands in the air or we will use force!" He said. My gaze was full of gravel even still.
"Katalyn, heeeeey." Mari fretted, small paws on my left shoulder. I looked at that shoulder, then into her big blue orbs. For a moment, I felt infuriated. I saw a skywisp. That was what they were called. The skybound whores. I didn't understand this malice. It was unwarranted by Valentine. It was of some other, deeper origin. Something bubbled inside of me—infernal stew. I became nauseous, threatening the ground with my burning vomit.
All of the hatred left Mari, buzzing away. I felt sorry for her. I felt sorry that...
...he...
...turned her into this.
Pseudo Cruce.
The demon within me.
You're infected.
I looked ahead and sighed. The last image I recalled was of a man approaching me. It was the same man from the bad side of town. He threatened to capture me. I frowned, disappointed in myself for letting them reach me. However, where my mind began to fail me, my body reconciled. The officer decided that the best course of action here was to grab me. The closer his hand got to my arm, the slower he moved, as if questioning his motives. He squinted through his sunglasses—I could tell by the wrinkles in his forehead. Mari became unusually quiet. I could feel her unrelenting touch. She stayed close to my shoulder like it meant everything left to her.
Contact came. Then a sizzle and a spark and a scream, all at once, echoing the sirens that have ceased the choir. The man backed away, falling onto his rear, his feet pushing himself away from me messily as though he was crippled. One hand clamped his simmering other's wrist, steam escaping into the air like gnats. It was like... my hand, having dissipating into mist. I watched as the officer's hand proceeded to change in hue, turning bright red as he groaned, tucking it against his chest. I must've looked too confused for them to have opened fire upon. We shared the bemusement, but the only other one to act on it was a fellow officer; he was a short, rather round man with a bulky handgun that looked like it didn't need bullets to break bones.
"What's wrong with you, man?" The overweight officer asked, holstering his weapon before kneeling by the man with the burnt hand.
"What just happened anyway?" I heard someone say. When I looked into the crowd of gun-toting maniacs, the weapons were all either lowered or sheathed.
"Shit, shit, shit," The sizzling man swore. "Should've known it. She's tainted or something. The disease got her in some other way."
"Dammit!" The overweight officer jumped back, flicking his hands a few times. "Get Brackor to the containment vehicle!" He shouted, as a man and a woman dressed in those wretched black hazmat suits emerged from the crowd with poles. At the ends of the poles were clamps that appeared about as wide around as a set of handcuffs. I watched the two situate themselves on either side of the whimpering 'Brackor'. Each pole cuffed a different wrist while keeping the two at a safe distance. Whatever safe meant. The man was painfully yanked to his feet and taken back to the convoy.
"You're dumbasses," I scowled, showing my teeth. "And you don't even need me to tell you that. C'mon. Come and get me." I tampered, standing and waving a finger at the congregation, gesturing for them to approach if they dared.
"Oh don't do that, hey..." Mari stuttered, shivering, having made my shoulder a sort of home, her chest now closing into it.
"Miss, you've left me no choice," My replacement opponent said, lifting his weapon once more, both hands steering the silver pistol. I gave him a smirk. I didn't need to vocalize it. My face told him that I wanted a bullet. I knew he'd never give that to me. Bite me, jackass. "The floating thing comes with us or you lose the ability to walk."
Mm, that set my fire roaring, but it was shallow to charge the guy like a bull. I've not seen a police officer play his or her part at a creating a hostage situation. I didn't think they were capable of it. Color me woefully wrong.
"Wait, don't shoot her! Please," Mari flew ahead of me, shielding me with a body too small for a bullet. "Look, hey, I'll come with you, just... tell me why I need to."
If I had a heart, it would've stopped beating. My eyes went wide and a bitter taste skimmed my tongue.
"I can't say anything on the matter. We need to contain you. That is all we were given. You're top priority."
"Okay, okay. Just don't shoot her. She's been through enough and," Mari caught her breath, turning back to face me. My eyes were already sharp on her, a predatory glare locking her in place. I had a reason to hate her after all. Or what—did I? Why the fuck did I care? She was only following me so she didn't get scared because she couldn't handle anything on her own. I didn't need to give two craps about the girl and for some reason I hated her for this. I hated her for protecting me only to leave me. Why? Why did my skin crawl for her? She meant nothing to me. "...and I want to see her again some time."
"I can't guarantee that you will, but I can ensure that we will be seeing her again very soon. It would be for her own good." The fatass said, giving me some poor excuse for a look telling me I was in trouble. Piss off. You literally can't even touch me. I'm not the only one who wasn't ready. We all got ahead of ourselves. Dammit, now I was relating to them. At least these jokers knew somewhat, through example, why they couldn't capture me. I still had no freaking idea why Xima insisted on protecting Cruce from me, or the other way around. Speaking of the other way around, I faced the broken hospital doors behind me. Yeah, that bullshit barrier was still there. And when I looked back, Mari was with those guys. And not me. She left me. Good riddance, you little... I couldn't even waste thoughts on her anymore. Protect me, Xima? Protect me, Mari? Protect me, officer?
Yeah, I'd like to hear from what. FROM WHAT are you insufferable assholes protecting me?
I heard doors close, but I didn't want to look over there anymore. Noises told me enough, as they usually do. Again, I felt Mari's eyes on me. They made me cringe, because even though I couldn't care less for the runt, she wanted to be back by my side. I wish she didn't give me her sentimental crap. I wasn't worth being given that. I could never have known who you were, Mari, because you didn't remember jack about your past. And hey, while we're at it, I would've never bothered telling you about myself. Maybe this was for the better. Friendship wasn't my thing, no matter how hard I
..wanted to try.
Engines. Exhaust. Tires against gravel. Some screeches. One left after the other, headed elsewhere to tear some more seams—to take some more important things away.
I was given the blessed-curse of silence. No one ever took that away, because no one could. Not even you, demon. I know you're inside of me.
I was surrounded by Cain. All the things that I wanted to hold onto until my fingers broke were stolen away in flickers of black. There was nothing to cling to anymore. No father. No home. No friend to keep me human.
No Cruce.
Everyone was after everything but me. It was like I barely existed, which was as big a boon as it was a nightmare. The worst part of it all was that I played the same game. I hated interaction. I liked to ignore. I liked to pretend that I was in this space where no one else could bother me. Why did I do that? I was alone because of that. It made me less human than anyone else I knew. Humans were supposed to talk and mingle, right? What the hell did that make me?
Laza, I still have no idea what you are, but you get your kicks off of turning humans into things that aren't human. I don't know whether you choose your victims or what, but I get why you didn't come around to me. No sense in transforming me. I've done your work for you.
I was still in the hospital parking lot. The sun had moved more than me. I didn't know how long it had been since I moved from this spot. I was waiting to die, I guess—waiting for someone to turn up and spit some more shit at me that I couldn't understand. Now that I was all alone, I supposed that was out of the question. No one had the time for me. Thank God for that.
Well, someone(thing) had time for me.
I ached on the way back to my house, barely dragging myself, only lifting my head when it felt light enough, or when enough noise was made to be granted attention. Those infected little animal people... My legs and my arms were still burning and boiling, but they never became tired. The same was true, thankfully, for my neck. I had nothing but defeat to display, with no reason to display it. Vicious paradox. Or maybe just irrational, emotional teenage stuff. The context really threw me off. My head pounded when I tried to justify my own pity.
The path home, if I could call it that, wasn't paved. It was a smoldering ruin, and I trudged every step of it, all the way to a damaged Orion Avenue, drowning with fire and screaming unlike it had ever been before. Flames licked the central street divider, tearing down trees and snapping branches from heights, crashing onto houses. Some other squadron of officers was in disarray, running around like flurried livestock. A number of them too small was trying to contain the fires, while another number had just failed at containing something else. I couldn't see what it was upon turning the street corner, but I could hear it. Gunshots told me enough. The thing was damn dangerous if they'd finally resorted to using those fancy toys for something other than show. Funny that I'd had one pointed at my leg hours ago. The damage that could've caused...
I saw some infection victims watching from rooftops, hiding behind chimneys and ceiling fan mechanisms, slopes and other obstructions. Orion was an savage wasteland now, the place smelling like charred grass and ether, along with all the burnt flora and ashes in the air, sickening rubber and rotten wood reducing to charcoal. I smirked. This looked interesting enough to pick me back up. I broke into a steady jog, diving downhill, straight for the mouth of the flames.
The closer I got, the redder the world became, microcosm and macrocosm alike, my blood stirring in the heart of the heat. The fire had appeared to have been set in segments. Fire didn't do that naturally. It had to spread. It had to be connected. While it long since had chained together with itself, something caused that inferno recently, as in minutes ago. Whatever did that must've been effortlessly capable of starting a new one any second. In the smoky haze, I encountered a blockade which the gray plumes did a wonder of concealing from the hillock behind Orion. The blockade was as sloppy as that on Brink Boulevard, if not more thanks to the conflagration nearly surrounding it. These fires weren't haphazardly placed. They were strategic. These guys had a smart foe. And, as usual, a pair of them came at me like bouncers.
"Hey! You can't be here right now! Go!" One of the masked men shouted over the crackling of the towering fires. These officers looked like they meant a hint more business than the last batch. They were armored, clad in bullet proof attire, full headgear, and automatic weapons. If I wasn't convinced earlier, I almost was now. They were up against something fucking scary.
I gave about as much a response to the dismissal as a grunt and a roll of the eyes, which happened to catch the contents of an armored black van nearby. Time froze. My focus was fixed on that one window. That window, with the flames reflected, forming some horrible frame around the figure within—the jackal with the yellow ring on his head, those same designs around his tall ears. His eyes were redder than blood.
"You have my dad." I said, fingers squeezing into my palms so goddamn hard that I could feel the inside of my knuckles.
"I won't tell you again: you have to leave! Now!" The same man blared.
Consciousness began to escape me, creating itself outside of my body. I became two.
I had lost the last of my inner humanity at that point. All of the images swarmed in. Panoramic demise. All framed by flames. Mother and father. Phantom and devil. Demon child.
There was something so beautifully powerful inside of me.
It helped me reclaim Orion.
I never stopped to think about what I was doing until after I had taken one, no, two, no, three, no... I lost count. I took lives. That was all that mattered.
Flames poured from my mouth, swallowing one of the men whole. He screamed and ran, beaten to an early death by his comrades.
I beat one of them to a pulp, my strength at a supernatural pinnacle. I tore his helmet off and dragged him to a curve. I told him to bite it. When he did, I stepped on his head. His jaw exploded. No one needed to see it. The fires cleaned it up.
Another of the officers was crushed to death, or so I assume, by a kick sending him into one of the vehicles. Something white and sharp came out of his chest. I tried to push it back in with another kick. His chest didn't look like a chest anymore. He had to burn.
I was shot over and over. I didn't feel the metal melting into my flesh, tearing through my body as though I was liquid. I reached the man shooting me. He tried to back away. I grabbed one of his arms, not his gun. I didn't remember how feeble human joints were. The arm didn't give much resistance. There were cracks and crunches, then a fountain of red in a sea of fire. I threw he and his arm to the floor, letting them writhe.
I heard so much yelling. So much anguish. I couldn't find any more officers. The cars were starting. I found a vehicle and threw my fist into it. Fiberglass caved in. The vehicle vanished afterward. A van approached. I thrust my palms into it, and it yielded. I roared as loud as the inferno endeavored to burn my slate away. The van tipped to one side, the tires and wheels so desperately spinning. Hurling my arms up, the van was pushed to its side, glass shattering like all the broken voices telling me to... stop...
Something black and canine in its appearance leaped from one of the windows. I was on my knees, but I felt it looking at me for a few seconds, before...
"Kat, enough! You need to stop! What are you?!" Someone said. Was it the jackal? The voice sounded...
Gruff.
Time became a stagnant pond. My scraped and sliced knees were against cracked asphalt. My hands were dripping with sweat and blood. My skin was pale and my knuckles paler. My breath left my mouth in puffs of smoke and water vapor. There were drops escaping my solar plexus and shoulder. I lifted a hand to both. They gave the same result. I didn't know what it was, but it led to my innards. It was bright and hot to the touch. It was glowing and it came from within me. Was it blood? It smelled nothing like blood. I didn't feel the pain of the wounds. I only felt heat. I only felt comfort in knowing I was alive and hurt. I loved being hurt...
And I loved to hurt.
I still grimaced. Everything around me was dimming down. Flames were settling. Ashes were falling. Shouts were becoming few and far between, scarce as sense. When I lifted my head to the overturned van, there was nothing there. The creature was gone. Even though our blood was no longer the same, we still had something in common. Gone.
I knew I still had a blighted audience on the rooftops. I stood up dramatically. It wasn't intentional, but whatever. I tightened my scarf, tucking it into my torn sweater, sections of the clothing completely absent, such as the right sleeve. Hell, I was lucky to be clothed right now. I remembered everything I did, but I felt half-asleep while doing it. It was a lucid dream that I could find no other choice in but to destroy.
Destroy everything.
Cleanse it in fire, consume the ash.
Shit... It only just began to... dawn on me...
I took a life. I took many.
I shuffled my feet, dragging them against the ground. I didn't bother lifting them. There was a meek whimpering nearby, choked by the dying flames. I tried to find it.
I searched the wreck near me. There were fallen trees and busted houses, debris and litter coating parts of the street like jagged film. As I began to pick my feet up, I realized there were holes in my legs and my groin, just like how there were in my chest and shoulder. There was no pain. It was horrific. Painless injury was severe, however my body refused to feel weakened in any way. My only fault was a severed conscience.
I discovered the source of the whimpering beneath a stray truck tire. It had a round head. Well, round were it not for the huge ears creating a flamboyant V-shape. I could only see its head, as the rest of it was beneath the tire. It looked bruised and hurt. I sympathized. Empathized, even. The creature was already looking at me with grand, circular blue eyes. The blue eyes haunted me. I've seen them before. Big and innocent. The story is the same. I didn't want to feel for the creature. But something inside of me spoke the language of mercy. I had no room left for cruelty... I couldn't leave him.
I squatted, hands grasping the vague rim of the tire. It almost felt weightless. Regardless, I lifted the item with my legs, throwing my arms into the air, flipping the tire around. It fell flat again, only after revealing the creature's full body, which was punier than its head suggested. It had a narrow chest that widened into large hips. They were adorn with feathery wings. Its pale orange legs led to two red feet, as its arms led to two red hands that couldn't seem to stop with the whole peace symbol thing.
Had he—I was only assuming it was male—the energy, this little thing would've probably scampered away like wild game. It was injured. Unlike me, I could tell it was in pain. Dire pain, at that. I didn't want to care, but I... leaned over him and let my arms wrap around him. He weighed less than the tire—less than nothing, it seemed. I brought him close to my chest, his ears at either side of my face. He was shaking, still whimpering. I'd probably not taken him from the urgency, but I wanted to believe he was safer like this. I so wanted to.
"I don't... want to die..." He gasped.
"Me neither, kid. We can go ahead and not die together." I told him, letting my voice drip gently into his ears.
"What... are you... human?"
"More questions... just like her," I started. "Ah... no, not human. Not anymore."
"I... I'm sorry... I infected you... then."
"Don't be sorry. You can't infect me. What's your name?"
"...Mm... Caden..."
"And you are?"
"...Huh?"
"What am I holding in my arms?"
"Oh... a Pokémon I... don't remember... my friend Drew... would know... Victory something... Vic...tini," He coughed. "I tried to... avoid them. I made... all that fire. Somehow."
"Victini. Pokémon. Got it," I whispered. I felt the boy's nose tuck into my bosom. He was barely hanging in there. Too young to be ignored. "So you're the big scary fire-starter. Huh. You're coming with me, Caden."
"Katalyn..." I heard a voice ring behind me, accompanied by the chime of a small bell. When I turned, I saw a blue feline standing in front of a wall of flame, darkened by its light, his golden eyes still piercing the red glow. He looked uneasy, like I had taken something dear from him. That would have made him just like me. I caught a glimpse of a few other figures rushing to his side. One of them looked like the hedgehog—Topher. The other looked like a tall rat with pointy ears and a lightning bolt for a tail. In fact, a good three of them looked like that. The last one was another quadruped. That was Al. The one with the round ears. He made it. A little more pressure on the ribs, and he wouldn't have been here, looking at me, waiting for me.
It was all over. I've been transformed and...
...I couldn't face them, namely Cruce's cousin. I turned away, pulling myself forward into a veil of fire. I felt no burn, and Caden didn't object. I had only hoped the flames closed behind me.
I couldn't tell them how sorry I was. I couldn't tell anyone. It was outside of my vocabulary, and I was beyond, or maybe beneath, their understanding.
My name is Katalyn
Valentine.
I have
two shadows. Two reflections.