No tengo los derechos de los hombres de equis (I don't have the right to the X-Men).
The shot rang out and echoed through the office. Touch opened his eyes, and the computer tower dropped to the ground. The thug that had been holding it had his eyes wide open, and he fell to the ground... and it was not until he hit the ground was it clear to see where the bullet had passed into his head from his fellow gang member to the right, who was currently holding the gun where it had been when the shot was fired in the first place. The other two members of the gang looked towards the man with the gun in shock, but only for a moment before they pointed their guns at him and made the same shot towards him, penetrating his skull without a moments hesitation and watching his limp body drop to the ground.
The two looked at each other, than drew their guns toward Touch. Or, where Touch was. They heard the shutting of the door to the stairs and bolted behind him in pursuit. As they reached the roof top, a hand snapped out and grabbed the hand gun away from one, using it to pistol whip the other. Despite how big the guy was, a steel handle slamming into his jaw shattered it and sent him flying down the stairs. However, the other thug had a hand free and connected it first with Touch's stomach, and than with his jaw, tossing him backwards. His head slammed into the edge of the roof top and the sword flew out of his hands, though the hit only made him dizzy enough to slow down for a moment before he rolled back onto his feet.. The thug was almost as fast though, and tossed a punch towards Touch, who grabbed onto his opponent's wrist, placed his foot into his stomach, and leaned back, throwing the man over his shoulder and off the roof.
He turned his back to go get the sword as a wind swept behind him. He leaned down to pick up the sword when a blow slammed into his back and lay him flat onto the ground. Amazingly enough, the airborne enemy had found his way back onto the rooftop, and was currently sitting on Touch's back, attempting to rip his arms out of their sockets. Suddenly, the man's gripped relaxed, and he stepped off of Touch, then reached down and helped him up, even as going as far as helping him dust off of his coat. The man walked over and picked up the sword off the ground, handing it to Touch in a very cavalier manner, as if presenting him with his own finely crafted sword from a blacksmith. Touch walked towards the edge of the roof just as police sirens began to sound in the distance. He looked towards his "mental slave", who was temporarily just staring into space. Finding his way to a ladder, Touch looked off from the roof top at the city for a moment, wondering if his thoughts were some sort of premonition of the events that were going to happen. He thought to himself
this must have been a message...
this must have been a sign...
this mus-ARGH!
The previously-entranced thug tackled Touch, knocking him off the side of the building and just barely giving him a chance to grab onto a rung of the ladder for a second, just enough to slow their descent before they crashed onto the pavement of the alley on the side of the building. This fall hit him harder than any of the other blows, and Touch was nearly unconscious for a moment, but pulled himself back into consciousness. The thug stood above him holding the sword in his hand, and took off down the alley.
Touch shook his head and took off, cussing underneath his breath. "I don't need this shit," he spit out as he sprinted after the sword. He slid around the corner and came to a stop. Nowhere in sight. He was about to turn around when a stifled scream coming from an alley across the street. He sprinted across the street, running into the alley.
The punk stood there with the sword unsheathed and pressed up a girl's throat. "Son of a bitch, were did you find a girl at three in the morning?" Touch asked, clearly irritated. He stood there with the blade glistening in the street light, toying with him and refusing to say a word. They locked eyes and stood there for a few seconds, neither making a single movement. The sword started to waver for a moment, and dropped out of the thug's hand, clanging on the ground. Touch released his hold on him, and gave him a chance to run away, which he promptly took advantage of at a high enough speed where he did not notice a notebook falling out of his coat. After picking up the sword and placing it back into its holder, he went to check on the girl. She was curled up in the shadows, and he couldn't pick up anything about her but her eyes, which shone with a white and blue hue.
"You alright?" Touch asked, extending a hand to help her. The white and blue hue of her eyes seemed to swirl, and the air around him became incredibly cold. A white smile appeared in the shadows, and a blast of cold slammed into his chest, pressing him into the wall across from where she was sitting and forming a block of ice around his chest, attaching him there. The girl stepped from the shadows, letting the street lights flow over her, revealing a twenty-something face that was untouched by flaws. Though she was beautiful, two features burned into Touch's memory. The first was a mark that appeared to be a rigidly etched numeral six underneath her left eye. The second feature which stuck out were her eyes, which seemed to have irises that were constantly flowing. The blue and white that they were before swirled into a predominantly white and blue color fading into the background. Almost as soon as this change in her eyes occured, a wind swept into the alley and lifted the notebook that had been dropped into her hands. The wind rushed even more intensely around her and swept away. Just as she faded out of sight, a flame sailed down and slammed into Touch, melting the ice block just enough where he could break out of it.
He dropped to the ground, coughing from compression against his lungs and the shrinking of the air from the cold pressed agains this chest cavity. The sirens from the police cars approaching were enough motivation to get him moving though, and in one swift motion, Touch grabbed onto the sword and swung up into the fire escape, getting onto the roof top and heading back to the recon spot. The entire trip, only one question rung through his mind...
who was that...?
