From the last chapter:
The second of the thugs grabbed the knife away from his
friend and placed it next to the girl's neck.
"No one screws with out business…"
As sadistic and cruel as his voice sounded, the amount of enjoyment he seemed
to be getting out of it only slightly offset the anger in the eyes of him and
his comrade. His arm threw back behind
his head and slammed the knife down with every ounce of strength in his body.
* * *
The knife cut past skin, past bone, coming out the other
side… of his friend's wrist. There were
a solid five seconds of shock before a scream erupted from both of the allies –
though, one with better reason than the other.
The girl's body dropped to the ground, with her cloak curling around her in a
dark pool of indigo. Hardly anyone
would have noticed her, though, with the painful screams of the second man
carrying through the loud city streets.
The first was doing his best to try and figure out what had happened,
but the hand with the knife in it was shaking, pointing it towards his own
chest. It was not until then the man
with the knife noticed the figure in the trench coat leaning against the all
near them, watching the entire set of events unfold as if he had written the story.
"DO SOMETHING!" the man screamed towards the figure in the trench coat. Touch smiled and pointed his hand towards
the hand with the knife, moving them up and down parallel to each other.
"Oh… but I am."
He manipulated the two men to face each other, and backed
them each up ten feet. With one swift
clasping of his hands, the two men ran full speed into each other, backing up
and doing it several more times before they lost consciousness.
Touch walked over to where the girl lay and saw that she had not moved from
that position, though he could see the cape heaving up and down as she caught
her breath. He carefully laid her on
her back and examined her to see if she had an serious injuries.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, truly beginning to notice her exact features among
the small scrapes he had been checking.
Pulling back the hood revealed a pale face, marked only by a small red
diamond on her forehead and the violet/blue hair that fell just above her
shoulders. The hair lay flat against
her skin, giving her a more refined, facial structure, commanding a respect he
had never seen before, even in this weekend state. She could not have been much older than sixteen or seventeen, yet
she had the intuition to know that Touch was there to help her. Her mouth opened and moved in response, but
no words were coming out. He closed his
eyes and placed a finger on her temple, letting himself enter her mind just
slightly.
Don't talk, think, he said through his own thoughts to hers.
She closed her eyes as well, creating a picture of herself in her mind. The image closed in onto her head, and
showed some sort of band-aid sized sticker on the back of her neck. Keeping his eyes closed, Touch reached
behind her head and ripped the patch from its place.
Her eyes snapped open, and her body shot up.
"A little warning next time?" she spoke in an almost monotonous, but still
clearly feminine voice, as she rubbed the back of her neck.
Touch, still crouched next to her, stood up and walked
away. He had no desire to deal with an
unappreciative brat, and he made her know damn well that thought. He was several steps away before a small
white hand held his shoulder, attempting to get him to stop.
"I'm sorry… thank you for helping me," the girl spoke more delicately now,
despite the fact he had not even turned around to face her. He turned to face her, and she that her face
still had the same solemn look, despite the fact he heard true guilt in her
voice. There was a moment of peace
between the two of them before her knees buckled underneath her and Touch pulled
her arm up so he could catch her. With
much care, he brought her into the lobby of the apartments that the fight had
broken out in front of, and laid her on the cool tiling. He took off his trench coat as well and
tucked it underneath her head.
"You're probably just tired… I'm Touch by the way…what happened?"
"Touch. My name's
Raven. There was a bunch of guys
mugging this woman, and I took care of it.
Before I knew it though, there were another ten guys around. The swarmed over me and I fought back, but
they immobilized me and I ran."
"You… fought back?" He couldn't quite
take in how she managed to take down
She nodded. Her eyes
faded to white as she pointed to the lock on the door they had just come
through. The lock turned completely
black, with the exception of the edges that became white outlines, and melted
off the door.
"Then why did you run away?"
"You aren't the best when it comes to making connections, are you? I need to be able to speak to perform the
incantation, even if it is just murmuring it, and that thing on my neck
paralyzed my vocal chords." By now,
Touch was not sure whether to be fascinated or pissed off at her. Normally he would not have given her ten
seconds of his time, but there was something about her that he could not help
but feel the need to stay by her side at that moment. As he had these thoughts, he neglected to remember to actually
respond to her. It took a moment for
him to realize he had been staring at her, but once he had, he noticed an
inquisitive look on her face as well.
"Why did you help me?" Her voice was a
little quieter than it had been before, with more concern than simple
curiosity.
"Oh, I'm a mutant. I
can possess people an-" he began, until he waved a hand to stop him.
"No, I figured you had powers or something – I'm not stranger to them. Why?"
He thought for a moment. "I don't know really… these people I'm with are always helping other people. It's just been kind of a habit now."
"You didn't need to.
You don't look like a good guy."
"But I did. And most good guys don't do
what I did to the bad guys."
"Touché. What now?"
"The place can make sure you aren't too bad.
We can check you out back there unless you want to go home."
Raven looked away
from him. "We can try that place I
guess." He helped her up and went
outside of the building. Touch
scribbled an address on a piece of paper and handed it to the first taxi driver
that stopped by them.
"I can't really let you know where we are going, but trust me." He closed his eyes and entered her mind
again, blurring her vision so she could not see where she was going.
He could not even remember the last person who he had asked to trust him.