Despite his urge to continue, as the elevator doors opened he couldn't help but stopping just outside of them.
Where… am I?
He had stepped out into what looked like a hallway of either a really old mansion or a boarding school. After taking a tentative step forward, he glanced back at the doors that had shut behind him. Looking around he couldn't see anyone, and he couldn't hear anything, but that didn't mean that no one was around. Caim knew how silent people could be when they wanted to.
He continued down the hall, sticking close to the walls and resisting the urge to run. The floor had already creaked twice under him and he didn't want to make any more noise than he had to; he'd only run if he saw or heard something. His ribs protested with every breath and nearly every step sent a pain shooting up somewhere. He'd push himself once he got outside to get away from the building, but until then he'd take it slow.
Passing a door, he heard it unlock and he rushed around the nearest corner, his heart pounding in his throat as he pressed himself tight up against the wall. His hands shook while his blood raced and he took several deep breaths despite the pain, trying to calm himself.
A few pairs of footsteps exited the door he had passed and a couple continued on down the hall, luckily in the opposite direction. Caim could hear the remaining people talk amongst themselves .
"-so just relax around him a bit, ok, Kurt? He's probably not used to other mutants," an orderly voiced male said.
"I get it Scott, the professor already told us."
Then there was a puff sound, like the one that happened after a magician's trick on a kid's cartoon show.
Other mutants? So Mr. McCoy wasn't a coincidence…
Caim swallowed the lump in his throat and went down the hallway that he had turned onto. Up ahead there was an open space and he suspected a branching off hallway or something.
Maybe there's a door…
He quickened his steps, wincing at every noise, and saw he was coming up to a door ahead. He glanced around - there was no other way to go, he'd have to quickly slip by.
He stepped past the larger than average door in two strides, but stopped once he heard what someone was talking about inside. Risking being caught, he strained to hear what seemed like a news broadcast. The room must have been a living room.
Looking into the room, he found it unoccupied, though someone had left the TV on. A lady in a pressed and presentable suit sat behind a desk, talking to the camera.
"-gruesome and shocking for a small part of the city that has never seen violence of this scale before. We go to Clare Waters on the scene."
Caim's eyes widened as the news feed went to a blond lady standing amongst a bunch of other reporters. Although the bodies had been removed and a man was currently rinsing the blood off the street, Caim recognized the alley.
"Residents say that they heard shots fired and several screams late last night. Police say that three teenagers were found dead on the scene, one from a gunshot wound and two from some sort of animal attack. No word yet on what kind of animal-"
They'll never believe it when they find out…
He was really shaking now. Natasha had said that he had dragged himself to this place, so he must not be far from the attack site. Mr. McCoy had commented about the amount of blood on his clothes, and Caim didn't take him for an idiot; the doctor already mentioned that Caim hadn't had enough cuts to constitute having that much blood on him. They would eventually put two and two together and get the cops to take Caim away.
His breath quickened as he backed away from the TV screen .
Away… Just get away…
He whirled around, his legs tensed to burst into a run despite his earlier decision, but he pulled up short when he saw a man standing in the doorway. He held an unlit cigar in one of his large hands and looked Caim up and down with the eyes of a skilled predator. Caim had run into men like this before, but no one nearly as terrifying as this male. He looked like he could pick up Caim with a single hand and snap his neck without a care in the world.
Caim took a small step back but then stopped. Men such as this were like sharks: they could smell fear and blood, and they loved the look of both.
Steeling himself he stood up a little straighter and set his jaw, all of a sudden well aware of the tattoos that spanned his bare torso and arms. He had been told by some that he could be intimidating and although he never believed them he hoped that right now he would be able to put off even an inkling of that supposed strength. He flexed his hands, more for personal reasons than for show or intention, and took a breath. Pain zinged up his chest.
The man raised an eyebrow slightly and crossed his arms. "What you tryin' to put off kid?" His voice was deep and gravelly with the raspy undertone of a smoker.
Caim flicked what he hoped was his cold gaze between the man and the door beside him, not wanting to speak; he knew his voice would crack if he did. The man must have understood because he replied: "Go ahead. No one's stopin' you."
Caim didn't move. This had to be a trick. He glanced again from the door to the man and unwillingly caught his gaze. The man's eyes bored into him and he felt himself start to shake.
"Go on," the man repeated, stepping aside as though ushering a dog out of the room.
Caim slowly took a step, then another, and was halfway to the door when the news caught his attention once more.
"-Malcolm Reglin, has been convicted of second degree murder after nearly two years in court. He was sentenced to twenty five years with chance of parole after fifteen."
Caim's eyes widened as he turned his head to stare at the TV, at the man in the grey suit with dark hair just starting to be streaked with grey and deep brown eyes walking out of the courtroom with only his highly paid lawyer by his side.
A single word slipped from Caim's lips, breathy and with the weight of a thousand worlds: "Finally."