Chapter Thirty-Two:
Michelle had been tense all day long. Today was the day, she supposed. She told him that today was the deadline or else she'd tell everyone who and what he was.
She tapped her foot on the tile floor of the classroom, staring at nothing. Mr. Rampent was droning on at the front of the classroom, and everyone was either on their phones or asleep. He always had that voice that just put people to sleep, and even Michelle could feel herself slipping away.
Michelle shook it off and began to doodle in her notebook, trying to get her mind of the mutant. What would she be eating today in lunch? She wondered, was the test for AP World History today or next Monday? She'd study during lunch anyway, if she was wrong.
Michelle sighed, she was never stressed, not like this, and not over a boy! Of course, her worries were probably more... Socially unaccepted as they usual 'boy problems' go. Other girls don't worry if someone mutant will slit their throats with their goddamn hand as they are walking home, right?
Michelle sighed again, staring to tap her foot and draw. This was unhealthy, to worry about this so much. She was never like this and it would be easier to just forget it and focus on school - of course, those were the same words every other student her age told themselves as they sank further and further into depression and anxiety. But, this time, Michelle decided she was going to be like every other person. She was going to be normal for a day.
And, she quietly hoped she would still be alive by the time she got home.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
"Hey." Michelle nearly jumped as she turned around, eyes wide. When she saw who it was, she nearly shouted. "Chill out, will ya," Tyron huffed, "M'not goin' to stab ya in broad daylight."
"Then why are you here, Mutie?" Michelle snapped, eyes set in a ferocious glare.
Tyron's eyebrow flinched at the word, but didn't get upset, "I jus' wanna talk, is tha' alright?"
"You want me to keep my mouth shut?"
"I want ya to listen, if it's possible." Now, he sounded a bit annoyed. Michelle did, and Tyron continued, "Ya can tell whoever ya want about me," He began and Michelle rose an eyebrow. "Look, m'here to talk, alright―"
"Then talk," Michelle hissed. "Or are you just stalling or something else?"
Tyron sighed through his teeth, "Would you just listen to me, just for a second?" He said, his tone on a hint of a beg. Michelle narrowed her eyes at him, "Your friend, I can't remember her―"
"Then why the hell are you here?!" Michelle snapped.
"I'd tell ya, if ya would stop cuttin' m'off, god dammit!" Tyron finally said, throwing his hands in the air.
"Say what you have to say," Michelle hissed, "And hurry up, I don't want to be seen with a Mutie." He grinded his teeth, but took his chance.
"Everything that I did back then, I couldn't help it," Tyron began to say and Michelle scoffed. "Baron made me. All those times, he made me."
"You always have a choice. You chose to kill her."
"Ya have never met 'im then, have ya?" Tyron said bitterly. "I did wha' I had to do to survive. If I. . . no. . . m'not goin' to start with that again. M'sorry, Michelle," Michelle rolled her eyes, turning away. "Whatever I did to ya an' her, m'sorry. But, believe me when I say tha' killin' her was a much better than what Baron would've done."
"How do you know!?" Michelle yelled, making a few people near them turn and look at her. "Huh!? You didn't even give her a chance!"
"Quiet down," he hissed, looking away, but Michelle was upset now.
"But, you just had to, didn't you? Were you thinking about her or about yourself?!" Tyron pushed Michelle into the alley between two buildings. She stumbled and tripped over a box. Tyron caught her arm before she could fall down completely. Then he spun her around and hid under a fire escape.
Michelle's heart was pounding as she stared at the boy who was just looking at her, waiting. "What are you going to do to me?" She asked, trying not to let the fear into her voice. She was stronger than this, damn it!
"Nothin'," Tyron said, "Ya were jus' causin' a scene, an' I didn't want people askin' questions," He admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "Can I finish talkin' now, or are ya jus' gonna keep cuttin' m'off?"
Michelle crossed her arms and stood up straighter. "I said to hurry up." Tyron pursed his lips and rolled his eyes, but continued to talk.
"M'orders were to bring back the kids," Tyron continued, leaning against the rusty ladder, and Michelle furrowed her thick eyebrows. "His exact words were 'bring the cute ones'."
"So?" Tyron stared at her, as if she were the one speaking nonsense. Why was she even talking to a Mutie like him still? Why hasn't she called the police yet?
"Baron wanted to stimulate kids in order to trigger a mutation," Tyron explained. "If 'ey didn't mutate, he sold 'em."
"'Sold them'?" Then, it struck her, and Michelle felt sick. "He. . . you. . ."
"That's why I killed her," Tyron looked away, his eyes looking into nothing. "If I let her live, she'd hate me. If I let any of 'em live. . . I would be worse than Baron."
"Why would you work for someone like that?" Michelle asked, now angry again. Tyron turned back, as if remembering that she was still there.
"Ya think I wanted to?" He scoffed, "Every time I killed them, I was punished. Every time."
"What could he have done to you that could be that bad?" Tyron inhaled and looked away. "You're making excuses. Just like Muties, huh? You think you have all this power until you don't and look at where that got you. You haven't changed at all, have you?" Michelle looked him up and down and then scoffed, "I'll take you up on that offer, by the way. I'll tell the entire school that you're a murderer and a mutie. See how they take that. Baron will have your ass in seconds, and I guess you'll be back where you started, huh? Killing children? That is, if the police don't get to you first. That bill is going to be passed, and you'll be locked away, like the dog you are." Michelle turned to leave, but Tyron grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"What?!" She snapped, spinning around at him. Tyron wasn't looking at her. He glanced up at a window on the building across the street. Michelle turned too, but nobody was there.
"He would shoot me," Tyron said. His voice was brittle and he wasn't looking her in the eyes. Michelle stared at him, he didn't sound like he was done. "An'. . . An' then he found out I was a girl. . . So he raped me." Michelle stared at him ― her? ― in shock. "I killed 'em because I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason they lived a life worse than death. Ya right, Michelle. I could've let ya friend live, but if I did, she wouldn't be ya friend anymore. Ya wouldn't even recognize her. She'd just be a shell ― an echo of who she used to be. An' m'sorry for wha' I did to 'er. M'sorry I killed 'er, but the alternative would've been much worse than what happened to 'er. I want to think I was bein' merciful to 'er, but. . . I think the better thin' to do would be to kill m'self instead. I dunno wha' would've changed, maybe nothin'. Maybe Baron would've found someone else to do it, I dunno. But, m'sorry. I really am."
Michelle stared at Tyron ― was that even his name? Tears were running down his face, but he turned away and wiped at his face. "Goddamn," he murmured.
"I. . ." Michelle stammered. She never thought it was this serious. Well, she knew what she was getting into the minute she tried to stab him, but she never thought that he was a victim. Sure, she assumed he was 'roughed up', but this. . . this was more than she asked for.
"So, yeah," Tyron said with a small sniff. "Ya can go tell everyone, if ya want. I guess it's wha' I deserve at this point, right? I wouldn't care. M'jus' tired." Michelle turned to leave the alleyway. She had everything she needed now. His confession would be proven if they took a mutant test and she would finally have her revenge.
Before she left, Tyron said one last thing, "When I die, Michelle, I'll tell Rosie-Marie ya said hey." Michelle's head whipped around, her eyes wide.
"You. . . you remember. . .? How? I―?"
"She never said her name when I went in the room with you two," Tyron said, "Her mother begged for her. 'Rosie-Marie'. She kept saying it over and over. Sometimes, I can't get it out of m'head. . ."
Michelle swallowed, stepping away. "That. . . I don't care about that anymore. You're still mutie trash!" Tyron winced but didn't say anything. "I'm gonna tell everyone about you. You're a murderer and everyone will know."
Tyron looked at the litter at his feet, "Yeah. . . I know." He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked towards Michelle to go out on the street. "Bye, Michelle." Then, he walked away.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Tyron turned the corner a couple of block away from the school, just as Steve met him. Tyron stepped back, surprised for a minute before walking around him. "Tyron!" Steve called after him, but he kept his head down, not looking at the man. "Tyron, I didn't know," Steve said, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back. Tyron yanked it away and held his hand to Steve's neck. It was as sharp as a knife.
Steve took a step back as Tyron turned around and continue to walk, this time a little faster. "Tyron, please, can we just talk for a second," Steve begged.
"There really isn't anythin' to talk about," Tyron grumbled.
"I saw you. You looked at me before you told her," Steve said.
"That doesn't mean anything," He hissed as he turned to enter the stairs leading to the subway.
"It does," Steve insisted. It was a pretty crowded due to rush hour, but Tyron made his way through the crowd with ease. Tyron dug through his pants pockets to find his card. "Tyron, can we please talk? I'm sorry I reacted the way I did, but―"
"But, nothing," Tyron snapped, glaring at him. Steve saw the hurt and raw emotion in his eyes for a fleeting second before Tyron turned away and kept his eyes on the ground. "S'nothin'. I don' care anymore."
"I don't care who ― what you are, Tyron," Steve said. "I want you to know that, alright?"
"Yeah. . ." Tyron murmured, not sounding sure.
"Hey," Steve pushed him in the shoulder. "I'm serious. I don't care what you are. You'll still be that punk kid I found in the alley, alright?" Tyron made a scoffing sound that almost sounded like a laugh. He checked his pockets and finally found the card he was looking for. "I can take you home, you know," Steve reminded.
"No thanks," Tyron murmured. "I'll take the sub." Steve smiled and stepped away from him.
"I'll see you at the Tower," He promised and Tyron hesitated, but nodded.
"Yeah. I'll see ya then." He said, then hurried to leave before he missed his train.
- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -
Baron sat in his office, silently smoking and leaning back in his chair. Then, the door opened suddenly, sending a burst of chilly air into the room. Baron didn't look up to acknowledge the person who showed up to his office unannounced. He'd kill them in a few minutes.
"It is customary to knock," He growled loud enough for them to hear.
"M'bad." Baron turned to stare at the stranger. It was the mutant faggot. Baron laughed loudly and turned back to smoking.
"You're back," Baron noted, annoyed.
"We need to talk," he said simply.
"About your little 'riot'," Baron chuckled. "I don't see Tony Stark anywhere."
"He'll be here," Tyron said leaning against the wall. Baron smirked and reached out with his mutation. He stood up straight immediately, setting his jaw. His arm was silver and his fingers claws. "Get out!" He snapped.
"What are you planning?" Baron wondered, as he funneled his memories. He saw Tony Stark, but he wasn't in any state that was submissive to him. Then, he saw it. He was working with him. He was planning on getting Baron arrested.
Baron stood immediately, his gun in his hand and pointed at him.
Tyron was on his knees, wheezing and clutching his head. Baron shot at him, right in the shoulder blades and he let out a scream. "You're a traitor, boy! And a fool!"
Baron came over and kicked him in the face. Tyron grunted, curling away from the man cradling his body. "Your petty plan won't work. I don't keep the drugs here," Baron shot him twice again. Tyron let out another scream that was choked in his throat when Baron slammed his foot down on Tyron's head.
His face slammed into the ground and Baron heard a satisfying crack of his nose. Baron reached down and yanked him up by the collar of his shirt, Tyron groaned, trying to squirm away, but Baron pressed his gun to Tyron's gut and pulled the trigger again. Tyron screamed, his hands holding his stomach as he went limp, trembling with pain.
Baron looked down at Tyron and sneered, "How do you think it would be even remotely possible for you to take me down if you are like this?" Baron grabbed his skull and slammed it to the concrete. Tyron went still for several seconds as Baron raised his face back up, silvery blood dripped from it and his eyes were closed. "Maybe, you can make up for it, huh?" Baron whispered and the boy shuddered at his deep voice. His eyes widened in absolute terror and he went completely still. "Using you again would make income skyrocket, wouldn't it? People have missed their little doll, including me."
"Stop," Tyron said in what sounded like the mix between a frown and a hiss. Baron had his hands with held together with one hand. He could feel the boy beginning to panic, squirming and breathing raggedly and felt himself get hard, a devilish from slipping on his lips. Baron let out a mean chuckle, his free hand raising Tyron's sweater, revealing bare, bruised brown skin. His fingers grazing the bandages the boy kept on his chest, his finger digging into them and Tyron let out an involuntary gasp, tensing up.
"You're going to have to do more than whine, boy," Baron tsked as he began to tear his hoodie at the seams. "Scream for me, will you?"
"Baron," A voice boomed from outside the building. Baron dropped his hands and Tyron. The boy barely had time to hold out his arms before he hit the floor again. "We have the building surrounded! Come out with your hands up."
Baron's eyes went wild and he glanced down at Tyron, who was smirking as he spat out a bit of blood. "Gotcha," He whispered.
"You have sixty seconds or we will enter the compound. Come out with your hands raised," The voice ordered again. "Sixty! Fifty-nine! Fifty-eight! Fifty-seven!..."
"No!" Baron roared, pulling out his gun. Tyron leapt to his feet, grabbing the end as Baron squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit his hand and he inhaled, but he continued to absorb the gun until there was nothing but gunpowder dust left in his hand.
"Thirty-one! Thirty!..."
"No!" Baron screamed realizing he was running out of time. His fist landed in Tyron's stomach making the boy groan and double over. He went again, aiming for his face, but this time Tyron dropped and rolled to the side. He got back up and glanced at the door. Baron saw just as Tyron made a lunge for it.
Tyron made it to the door first, but didn't have time to open it. Baron slammed his entire weight into the door, keeping it closed.
"Fifteen! Fourteen! Thirteen!..."
"S'over Baron," Tyron growled at the man, but he wasn't done. His dark brown eyes were full of fury and rage. His hand went out, and slammed Tyron's face against the door. Tyron stumbled back and Baron kicked him to the floor. The back of his head hit the ground and Baron was on top of him a second later. Baron began beating the boy with his fists. Blow after blow, Tyron took until his face was bloody and bruised.
He heard the door being blown off its hinges and then men hurried in. They shot at Baron and electricity filled his veins. Baron fell, convulsing on the ground. He glanced over at Tyron one last time to see he was in the same state as Baron was.
Baron smirked before he closed his eyes and two men dragged him out of the building.