'Hello Marinette. How are we today?'

She doesn't respond. There was rarely a reason to. Instead, she silently stares forward, looking up at the ceiling. Counting the tiles. It helped. Doing anything she can to distract herself helps, but the pain is always there. Even as they try to dull it with medication, it doesn't work. The pain wouldn't leave. It never leaves.

'Marinette. Sweetheart, the doctor is talking to you?'

'She doesn't need to respond, ma'am. I am sure she is aware, just not in a talking mood. I can not blame her.' The doctor's voice was sympathetic, not at all changing tone from when he spoke to the child or parent. 'Look about these things in her head. It is-'

'They are called the "Butcher's Nails".' Her throat was dry as she said the words. It was enough to spook her parents and the doctor. Almost immediately, her father is over her, asking if she wants water to drink.

As much as she didn't want to hurt him, she also found him an annoyance. She tries to listen to the doctor instead as he continues to speak to her mother.

'They are unlike anything we have seen before. I mean-' He struggled for the words. The look on his face showed he was equal parts fascinated as he was disgusted with the device, it would seem. 'It changes so much of the brain's chemistry. I wouldn't even know where to start on how it was made, let alone how they-'

'Just tell us if you can take it out of her!' Marinette's mother interrupted, her voice coming as a shout. 'For god's sake, just tell us if you can get these things out of her head.'

'We can. But we also can't.'

'What does that even mean?'

Her father reaches down and presses a button, it makes Marinette's bed move up to a sitting position. Letting her see the X-rays the doctor had put up to show the parents what was wrong with her. To show the Butcher's Nails and how they were connected to her head. 'These nails, as they are called seemingly, are dug in far into her skull. Into her brain. It is possible to remove them, but in doing so, we might do more harm than good.'

He raised a finger to the image, showing the points of which how far the nails went within her. Showing how each was more than a few centimeters deep. And none were straight. Like as if they became bent when they were forced in. That was just how it looked in the X-rays.

In other scans, it proved to be a lot worse. More intrusive. Less of a device of some kind, more of a parasite. From her cheeks. To her temple. To down her neck. There were these thin lines. Barely visible, but they can be seen.

The true reach of the Butcher's Nails went through her entire head.

The doctor points directly at the spot where cable-tendrils joined the flesh and bone. Her very skull was molested with the likes of crude cybernetics and the bone-scarring of masterful surgical cuts.

These tendrils were sunk deep, rooted in the meat of the brain, threaded to the nervous system, and down in roughly serpentine coils around the spinal column. The doctor tried as best as he could to explain what this could mean. How badly this meant in terms of possible surgery. Explaining that with such a degree of mucking about the human brain, it was a miracle for her to even be alive. Removal without killing her is as possible as trying to take off the stitching of a patch from a shirt. With a chainsaw.

'The more tests we do, the worse it seems to be. I've talked to others, and while this is just a theory, it is almost as if your daughter is losing her mind. Literally.' He shows one last set of images. Showing how several parts of her brain, in terms of the parts for mental development, were surgically attacked and even removed. The device hammered into her skull hadn't ruined those sections of the brain. It had replaced them. 'If what we believe is true, then if we remove these. She will effectively die or become braindead. And if left in, it might be the same result.'

It shouldn't be possible. It borders on magic, in fact. But the proof was in front of them. The proof was in her skull. She had enough of it. 'Please, can we just go home?' She asks her father, she is tired and just wants to sleep in her own bed again for the first in months. Seeing the tears in his eyes. Somehow, that hurt worse than the pain the nails gave. It was one thing to suffer alone. It was another to drag others down to her level.

'Later, sweetie. Later.' He moves forward, brushing her hair aside and placing a kiss on her forehead, then pulls her into a tight, warm hug. She used to love his kisses. She used to love his hugs. She used to love her parents.

She doesn't anymore. The nails took away those warm feelings. They took away everything.

'Second opinion. I want a goddamn second opinion.' Her mother barked as tears were rolling down her cheeks. Cursing at the doctor in Chinese as he tried to assure her. The medical man stepped away, attempting to give them privacy as he left the hospital room. He was met at the door by a police officer. A detective.

'Is it now possible to have a word wi-'

'Get out!' Marinette feels her father flinch at how shrill her mother's voice is. Immediately, he lets go of their hug and tries to move the woman as she starts to break down into sobs. Holding her now in a hug.

Marinette doesn't move from the bed at first. She stayed in place and watched for a while. She found herself staring at her mother's crying form. The old her would have leaped from the bed to help in comforting her. The old her would have been crying with her. It all would have been thoughtless.

Instead, she had to force herself to pull away from the bed and walk forward. Trying as she might to hold both her parents together in a hug. 'I'm sorry.' She tried to tell them. 'I'm sorry I am broken.'

It only made them cry more.


Her morning ritual is the same. She wakes up before the creak of dawn, then stands from her bed and climbs up to her balcony.

Push-ups. Sit ups. Squats. Pull ups. Jump rope. Weight lifting. Stretching. All a part of her morning ritual. After an hour and 30 minutes, she stops. She goes down stairs, and takes a shower.

Washing away the sweat that drenched her body gave her time to relax her aching muscles from her harsh treatment of them. Some people would call what she does to herself, as a bit intense. Maybe even brutal. She didn't do it for some notion of improving her health. She did it as a distraction. The Butcher's Nails, the pain was at its worst when she awoke from sleep. Even after two entire years with them embedded within her, she still can not be used to the pain. At this point, Marinette believes she will never be used to it.

Once she is done with a shower, she continues on with the morning ritual. Brush her teeth, use the toilet, make an effort to brush her hair, wear deodorant, floss. It is hard to do so.

Waking up in the morning. Working out. Those were easy for her. The nails saw to that. But others weren't. Trying to pretend to care about such things as appearance and even basic hygiene took much effort for her. More than once, Marinette had entertained the idea of regressing to a cavewoman. It was not like she cared what most people thought of her.

But yet she put herself through it. For the same reason, she doesn't fulfill the other idea she had upon waking up. Where she could easily just throw herself off the balcony face first, let her skull be crushed into the payment. An idea that means the end of her pain.

For her parents. She stays alive for her parents. While she can't feel the emotions she used to have; while she can't fathom how she could so easily say how much she loved them before the nails; she could remember that she did love them. She could remember that they made her happy.

So she presses on.

It helped them to see her do these things. Comb her hair, clean her teeth, and have a sense of modesty. It made them happy and gave them a sense of normalcy.

'Good morning, sweet tot.' Walking downstairs, the first to greet her is her father. Tom smiled as immediately he stopped what he was working on and moved towards her. Fulfilling his morning routine of giving her a hug. Marinittee returns it as best she could. Trying not to squeeze him too hard or too soft. He probably would worry if she did either of those. 'Did you sleep well last night?'

'I slept.' She answers him. It was the most honest answer she could give without worrying him. Pulling away from the embrace, she looks around the kitchen, seeing her father making breakfast. 'Mom is downstairs in the bakery?'

'Yes, we figured it is your first day of class. Why not make a big breakfast for it. And maybe some extra sweets for the class. We actually manage to wake up in time to hear you working out.'

'You shouldn't have to wake up earlier than you have to. You know I don't eat much.'

'Look who's talking. And Mari…' He reaches down, holding her cheek with one of his hands. 'When are you gonna realize we do these things not because we have to, because we want to?' Marinette shrugged her shoulders as she pulled from him and walked to the table. She had learned it was best to just let them do what they want when it is for her. She has tried to argue against it for the last two years that she doesn't need to eat more, that she doesn't need a new sketchbook, that she doesn't need them to give her the bigger room. Yet they did. As stubborn as they were about it, she could understand why. It was them trying to help.

It was them trying to be "better parents". Did she hate the thought of such a thing? Yes. They were great parents. Amazing. She was lucky to have them. But if there was one thing about them she could not stand, it was how they blamed themselves. She could see it each and every time they looked at her. Each time, they spoke to her about the nails. More than once came the argument about her confronting them about it. They deny it. She could tell though. She was good at seeing through lies.

In a short time, she was eating her breakfast with them. Her mother had come up the stairs from the bakery and gave her a container of macarons. A gift for the class is a way for her to make some friends for the new year. Something simple that they could all enjoy. At the very least, it is a good way to get future customers for the bakery.

Finishing their food, Marinette endured the long goodbye her parents would give her at the door. With each giving a hug and a kiss. 'After school, you come straight home.' Sabine is strict with her words. Each time Marinette would leave the house, she would say to her. 'Call us as soon as you are in class, and as soon as class is over, then come straight home.'

'I will, mom.'

'Please, remember to do so?' Tom calls out as he stands behind the register. The worry is as evident in his eyes as the color of the sky.

'I have my phone. I have spare keys to the shop. I have the mace.' Marinette recalls, holding her backpack to her mother to show her the content inside. 'I promise, Papa, I will call.' He forced himself to smile at her. It was always like this when she left the house by herself.

One last time, they wished her to have a good day at school. Marinette held her tongue. Deciding it wouldn't be smart to mention that for her, a good day of school would simply be not going to it. Knowing her parents, they would try and take her up on the idea if they thought for a second, it would make her feel uncomfortable to go.

It did. But they didn't need to know that.

Putting the hood of her jacket up, Marinette walks to school. It is a short walk, thankfully. Quickly, she finds where she needs to go and it isn't at all long before she is sitting in a classroom. Making a call to her parents and telling them she was safe.

There is still a lot of time before class starts. She passed it with her sketchbook. Before the nails, Marinette had dreams of becoming a fashion designer. To make things that people would wear at fancy dinners or weddings. The kind of clothing that made you feel special for wearing.

In a drawer of her desk, buried under some old knitting supplies and color pencils, there was still her old sketchbook. Filled with numerous drawings she had made from when she was nine till she was 12. From hats to skirts, to even a few full dresses. The kind she wanted to see her own mother wear to her own wedding.

Then the nails happened.

All the creativity, all the drive, was gone. The people in the hospital tried to encourage her. Her parents tried to push for it as well. But it just wasn't the same. It was harder to even picture such things. Let alone put it to paper.

She remembers apologizing to parents for it. For having them bought so much stuff that is just gathering in her room, collecting dust. They said it was okay. Instead, they made it about her taking a break from it all. Let her interest and love for fashion come back on its own at her own pace. It's been two years. It hasn't.

Still, she sketches. Not of clothing but a different passion. If she could even call it that. It's more so a strange interest. One day at the hospital, she was with her sketchbook, and she stared at the X-ray that was left in the room of her own skull.

She tried to recreate it. She failed. But she tried again. And again. Something about it became an attachment. A sort of mania that couldn't be described. Skulls. She liked drawing skulls.

'Dupain-cheng!' Suddenly, Marinittee has fingers snapping in front of her face. Pulling her attention back to the real world. She looks up and sees who is getting her attention. Chole. Of course, she had forgotten about her "bully." 'Off again in your own little world.'

'I like my little world. It's quiet because you're not there.'

'Oh, it must be terrible then.'

This would mark the fourth year the two of them have shared a class together. If you were to sum up Chole in a few words, none of them would be kind. More than likely, one of those words would be a swear to emphasize a fitting insult. So it would be odd that despite it all, Marinette liked her. She used to dread Chole, used to hope each and every day that Chole would just magically go away. Then the nails happened. Everyone treated Marinittee like she was made of glass after that. Always careful, always gentle. Even when she would be clumsy or say something rude. Everyone would just excuse it.

Chole didn't treat her much differently at all. And it was a relief that something didn't change. A single constant. The nails had taken the relationship with her parents, her interest in her hobby, even her school work as now she is given things that are dumb down for her broken mind to work with. Yet, her "school bully" remained the same.

It was a thing that Marinette's been meaning to thank Chole for. Probably won't though. Last thing Chole needs is to realize she is actually doing something Marinette likes. Might make Chole stop and that would mean Marinette loses the closest thing she has to a friend.

'Anyway, you're in my seat.'

'Chole, I've always sat here.'

'Not anymore. New school, new year, new seats.' From her side came a new voice. Marinette turns her head to see Sabrina. Chole's "friend" if you could even call her that. More so a yes-woman to Chole. She tried to speak as if to put it all in some kind of positive light. Marinette liked Chole. She didn't like Sabrina. One hard glance, and immediately the mean-girl persona she was trying to copy off Chole breaks apart like a stone against a mirror. 'Please, Marinette, just do as Chole says. You know it is better for you.' Marinette's hands closed tightly into fist the moment Sabrina started to look at her with pity. The nails were a constant pain, but it always grew worse when she got mad. Suppressing the urge, trying not to even think of the satisfaction she would get in seeing the blood that would flow from a broken nose, Marinette sat quietly for a moment and picked her next words carefully so as not to give them with an attitude.

'I like my seat. My parents say it is good to sit close to the front.'

'Than good, you can sit further in the front then. Right next to the new girl.' Chole gestures to a table in the front row of class in the other column of seats, where said new girl sat, who was looking at her phone. Only taking a glance at Chole when being referred to. 'I need this seat for when Adrien gets here. He's sitting in the front, so I am gonna sit behind him.'

Marinette doesn't even bother asking who Adrien was. Possibly someone from Chole's social circle. Some other rich snob. Maybe then he will also treat Marinette the same way Chole did. It would be interesting to talk to someone else who isn't afraid of treating her as a normal person.

'I don't want to move.'

'Chole, maybe we should just leave her be. I mean she-'

'No, Sabrina! Her brain isn't that broken! She can understand when someone is telling her to get her butt moving.'

Marinette was about to say something back. A comment about moving butts. It doesn't get made. Instead, the new girl stood up and talked back to Chloe. Instantly, Chole switched attention targets, beginning to mock the new girl for her sudden attitude. The new girl possibly felt heroic for standing up for herself and didn't understand that Marinette didn't want to be saved. That Marinette liked when Chole would insult and challenge her. To have that moment interrupted was annoying. It made her even more angry, causing the nails to bite harder than before,

Marinette tries to do as the therapist tells her. Close her eyes. Trying to count and breathe. But her arm is grabbed, and she is pulled from her seat. It was so sudden that she fumbled on her footing.

Her eyes snap open just in time to see herself trip off a step and fall face forward. Her vision turns white as her face meets the floor. The pain was immediate, but it is nothing compared to the nails. She is quick to pull herself up to her knees. The warm trickle down her lips told her of her bloody nose.

The box of Macarons though, they had been on her lap. She had forgotten about them. The treat that her family made had slipped from her, and she had fallen right on top of them, crushing the small container and the sweet treats across her jacket and shirt. Something her parents made, a gift that was supposed to be for the whole class. Ruined. Utterly ruined.

Pain. Horribly gurgling pain surged through Marinettee's mind. The kind of pain that made burning alive preferable. The Butcher's Nails surged to a whole other level as her irritation turned to rage. Throwing her hands up, Marinette held her hands to her head in reflex, but there was nothing she could do to stop the pain. A low whine escaping her lips.

'I am so sorry, I didn't mean t-' The new girl tried to quickly say, but she was silent when Marinette snapped her head towards her. Blood still drips down her nose, Marinette doesn't even pay it any mind as she stands back up. Not even giving a glance as the teacher and other students see the situation.

'You–you-' Marinette's words stutter. The pain was making it hard to speak at this point. Looking at the one responsible for causing this pain, Marinette was closing her hands to fist, her knuckles turning white. She could feel it, the urge to just go forward, to scream and rage as fists would meet flesh. To wrap her hands around this girl's throat and shove her thumbs into her esophagus. To bash her skull against the ground till a beautiful red paints the carpet and wooden floors.

Instead, Marinette just runs. Fleeing the classroom.

She bashes through the door and is out of the hall, moving as quickly as her legs would allow. She finds some sanctity of peace as she rushes into a female public restroom. Her eyes scan around, checking each stall as she locks the door. Finding herself alone, Marinette does the one thing that she could do. Fighting the pain of the nails was pure agony, where at home Marinette would be able to unleash her rage properly. Her room had long been made soundproof for that reason. But out in public, her options were limited.

She goes into the stall furthest from the door and strips off her own jacket. Sitting upon the floor with her back pressed flatley against the wall as she holds her knees up to her chest, she takes all her rage and her pain together and she presses her face into her bundled up jacket so she can let out a muffled scream. She does so as loudly and as much as she needs to. Till her rage dies down, till the pain lessens.

She doesn't know for how long till it did, but it does. Her throat is sore, and she feels light-headed. But the pain isn't as bad anymore. It doesn't go away. It never goes away. But she is able to get out her aggression. She wanted to berate herself for allowing such a thing to happen. That she would nearly attack someone at school over something as simple as destroyed pastries. It's been getting easier to make her angry lately. At this point, it would be so easy to just let herself go into a blind rage. To just stop caring and attack someone. Anyone. The thoughts have entered her mind more times than she could ever count. Violent thoughts that result in nothing but blood.

They are always followed by thoughts of her parents. How they react, the excuses they would try to give, the shame they would feel, the tribulation by the likes of the press and police. Who knows what else. They do not deserve that. They do not deserve to deal with her. No one does. Who would even ask to.

'Hey, you okay?' A voice calls. A boy's voice, sounding to be around her own age. Marinette is shocked at it, even more so as he is knocking on the bathroom door. 'I heard you screaming, so I came running as fast as I could.' She rationalizes it. Knowing that her muffled screams couldn't have been heard that far. He must have been walking by the restroom when it happened. She keeps herself quiet. More than ready to let him think that it was just him hearing something and then just walk away.

Instead, he starts kicking the door. 'Hey! I am coming in to help! I think the door is stuck!' Almost like clockwork, the pain flares up with Marinette's irritation. Almost in sheer disbelief at what some boy was doing trying to kick in the girl's restroom. Finding it hard to believe that any boy would be that simple-minded as to do such a thing. Almost immediately, she hears another voice that makes the kicking stop. Someone spoke in a stern tone to the boy, asking what he was doing. He tries to defend himself, claiming there was someone screaming. But it isn't going well.

Marinette thinks that she should just keep quiet. To let this boy be punished for being so foolish. But then that wouldn't be fair. He heard someone was in danger, and in an attempt to save that person, he was punished for it? No. She would not allow it. Standing up from the floor, Marinette moves out of the stall and to the restroom door. Unlocking and pulling it open in time to hear the boy's name.

'-would your father think, Adrien- oh my god!' Marinette was not sure what she was expecting when she opened the door. Yes, there was the female adult voice she heard, and the teenage boy her own age. But she was certainly not expecting the large man built like an ox that was standing with them.

'Ha! See, I told you someone was inside-oh!' The boy's cheerful look of excitement at being right dies almost immediately upon looking at her. Him, the woman, and even the large man all looked at her with shock. Marinette takes a glance to one of the restroom mirrors and can see why they were staring. Her nose had stopped bleeding, but she still had evidence of it. Having pressed her face against her bundled up jacket without much thought, she smeared the blood across her lips and cheeks. And a lot had dripped down to her shirt as well it would seem. Making her regret the choice of wearing white that day. Not at all helping what was left of the Macarons were also there. Leaving a terrible mix of color. 'Nathalie, call 911 for her-' Marinette's hand poke at his side, making him give out a sudden yelp of surprise.

'Stop. I just fell. No need to make a scene about it.' She pulls back on her jacket, pulling her hood up to cover her head. Being thankful that they were so focused on the blood and mess on her shirt, that they didn't notice the nails. Though she pauses as she realizes she had heard a certain name spoken. 'Adrien? Like Chole's friend?'

'Oh, you know Chole-' He is about to say, before suddenly a loud boom is heard and a shudder is felt along the ground. The kind that made one wonder if it were some kind of bomb went off.

Marinette rushes to a window and checks outside, seeing something that could only be described as unreal. As a creature had exploded through a wall out of the school. It was some unholy mixture of overgrown flesh and stone. Bright yellow liquid spewing out of the several mouths it had. There was no costume. It was no trick. It was something otherworldly. No, it was better to say it was unnatural.

It screamed with a human voice, unintelligible babble that pains one's ears to listen to. It leaped from a hole it made in the school's second story and landed without a shred of graze. Its body was like a meaty statue as it smashed along the floor. Yet it rose back up and moved on without looking the slightest bit harmed.

Watching this creature merely exist, Marinette felt her senses assaulted. Something aroused in her. Rage. Yet it wasn't her own. It was as if she was feeling something else within her own mind. The Butcher's Nails react to it. Pain flared so suddenly that Marinette couldn't react. She steps back, a scream escaping her lips as something speaks to her within her ringing ears.

She closed her eyes, attempting to look away from the creature. That somehow, it would make it all stop if she would not see it. She tried to wonder why she was feeling this way, what was raging in her mind.

There was no time to even fathom such a thing as suddenly she was pulled to the ground, landing once more onto her face for the second time that day. The fact didn't sink in for Marinette immediately, as her mind was certainly still reeling. But she is able to regain her focus as a car has blasted through the wall where she would have been but a second ago.

'By the gods, that was close.' Marinette sees Adrien lying next to her on the floor. Her apparent hero. 'I am sorry I tackled you.' He pulls at her, helping her to her feet.

'I am not dead. So, no complaints.' Her words were slurred, but she was able to speak. Even if her mind felt left in a fog. The rage finally passed, and along with it, the pain of the nails.

'Adrien!'

The lady and the large men are back at Adrien's side. 'It's okay Nathalie, we are not dead. The gods have blessed us.' He says, giving a smile. Though it did nothing to ease the two visibly worried adults. Though suppose they have reason two as they have just seen a car thrown through a wall.

'Adrien, we need to get you away from here. It is clearly not safe here.' She tells him, taking a glance at Marinette. She looks as she is about to say something, but Marinette cuts her off before she could.

'I live close to the school. I can run home. It looks like that thing is leaving anyway.' Right then, the loud bellow of the creature screaming is heard. Though it seems to draw away from the school. 'Better to still go home and be safe.'

'That is good thinking, Young Lady. Come on, Adrien, we have to be going.'

'Wait!'

Marinette had turned and was about to rush off to class to get back her bag and sketchbook. She is stopped as Adrien grabs her arm. First instinct came to punch him in the throat. Marinette thankfully ignores it.

'Are you sure you are going to be okay?'

'You don't need to worry.'

'I want to. I mean, you're friends with Chole, right?' Marinette chooses not to respond to that question. While she considers Chole a friend, that feeling might not be mutual. 'Well, so am I. That makes us friends-in-law or something, right?'

'I don't think that is how it works. Again. I will be fine.'

While he does let go of her, Marinette could still see the worry in his eyes. It was an honest look. Clearly, he was an emotional person and kind. Admirable in some cases, a pain in others. She watches him take a glance at the car that was half embedded through a wall and that could have killed them both.

'Would you believe I kinda snuck out of home to try and attend school? Some first day, huh?'

'I hate the first days back at school. In this one alone, I had fallen on some macarons, busted my nose, and had a car thrown at me. It's still not one of my worst days.'

'So, it can get worse?'

'Yep.' For some reason, he laughed. She didn't mind that he did. It meant he was being put at ease. Not worrying as much. 'But you'll never know unless you get home safe. So get to it.'

Marinette turns and this time is able to rush off. Jogging down the hall. 'Hold up! I never got your name!' She doesn't answer him. Better he wouldn't know her name yet as she was sure Chole had at least told him some things about her. That girl did love to gossip about others.

If he knew that he ran into the "Broken Girl", it might make him chase after her.

He seemed nice enough to do that.


Her parents reacted as well as she expected they would when they saw her come home early with blood covering her mouth and shirt. A lot of questions and a lot of worrying was had. She explained what she could. From her being pulled off her seat and falling, to her fleeing the class, to her seeing a monster at school. Her father fainted when she told him of the car that had seemingly been thrown at her.

After cleaning herself of the blood and dirty clothing, Marinette had placed the news on her computer to see what was happening outside. To find out what that creature was and what it was doing. She had gotten her answer for the latter seemingly. It was causing pure destruction.

A press conference was held with the mayor as he spoke about the apparent "Monster of Paris". It was becoming clear that police were failing to stop it.

Whatever the creature was, it was going on a rampage. Smashing anything that had gotten in his way. The live feed on the news continued to broadcast, even as graphic as it became.

Seeing the creature once more, Marinette was filled with the same feeling as before. Rage within her mind. Rage that was not her own. Immediately, she turned away from the monitor. Took to looking around her room instead.

She didn't know why, but it felt like the creature somehow made the nails worse, and she couldn't understand why. Just once glance and immediately her mind was flooded with absolute pain, the nails were biting into the soft tissue of her brain in a way that felt like they were trying to pull something out. She resorts to following one of the techniques her therapists had told her in trying to calm herself.

Counting.

There were eight colored pencils on her desk.

There were eight sketches pinned on her wall.

There were eight cookies on the plate her mom gave her.

Even if her eyes were off the screen, Marinette could hear what was happening. As cars would be thrown into buildings. As people would be crushed. The police tried to do what they could. But bullets did nothing to it. It only seems to enrage the creature more. Make it grow in size, as the newscaster would say. Marinette tried not to think of it. It was a mistake to put on the news.

Not looking at the monitor, she tries to grab the mouse while still counting things in her room.

There were eight pieces of trash on her desk.

There were eight pieces of folded laundry she meant to put away.

There were eight pieces of paper that were falling out from her bag.

Marinette clicked the mouse several times. She made sure to hover it over the exit symbol, to close the page in case her nails would flare. Yet the audio kept playing. More and more, the creature hurt people who didn't deserve it and she couldn't stand it much longer. Without thinking much of it, she turns to the screen as she gets ready to shut it off.

There were eight tabs on the browsers.

There were eight error messages from the computer not responding.

There were eight bodies on the live feed.

Marinette tries to reason that the idea of monsters were only works of fiction. Yet the proof was before her eyes. The proof was killing innocent people. It was unfair. It was a mindless slaughter of those that couldn't defend themselves.

There were eight people who had died right before her eyes.

The Butcher's Nails were reacting with her. Pain flared, burning along her mind throughout her entire skull. She hears her ears ringing. Sharp pain across her limbs.

There were eight people who would never be able to go to tell their families they love them.

Something within her was angry. She was angry with it. Fury filled her as she stared at the screen. Watching the monster as it had taken far too many. Her rage boiled and burned, and something was beginning to overflow. Yet as something whispers into her ringing ear, it makes her turn her eyes upward above her monitor. Something given to her by relatives on her mother's side of the family. A trinket that showed what was called "The Eightfold Path". A means to find peace after the nails. Peace.

As if such a thing would ever exist for her,

Her lips are pulled back. It was a foreign feeling to do so. Yet as more pain flares from the nails, as the whispers in her mind grow louder, as she stares at the eight pointed star pinned against her wall. Absent-mindedly came the words from her lips…

'I am the eightfold path.'


She had raced out of her home like never before. With speed and strength she had never had till now as she leaped across rooftop to rooftop. It was an amazement. It was power. It was enough to stop that monster from hurting others.

Upon saying the words given to her by the whisper, she had changed. Something had come over her, forming into clothing. Not even giving herself a chance to look over herself. She had just felt the sudden rush of power and left her home immediately. She could tell she wore some kind of armor over her chest and a helmet. Marinette had been a fan of American football for the past year. Something of the refined raw mayhem of the sport drew her attention to it. Though never did she think she would wear something remarkably similar to their uniforms. Nor give her such a feeling of freedom.

Still, the nails were felt. As strong as ever, but it was easier to deal with its constant biting.

'Hey!'

A voice cries out and Marinette stomps her feet, digging into the rooftop grovel to stop herself from moving forward. The momentum causes her to slam into a chimney at near full speed. Enough to cause a large chuck of it to be blown off as her shoulder collided with the brickwork.

She barely even felt the impact.

'That looks expensive to fix.' Marinette looks to the voice and sees a person was moving to meet her. A hand waving in a friendly greeting, yet his appearance would deem otherwise. He looked "busy" and "cartoonishly evil".

From his mostly black and red outfit to the fur that lined his shoulders, to the large dagger at his side, to the bone necklace and trinkets that dangled off his form. All of that, without even speaking on the skull and horned helmet he wore. If there was such a thing as pure evil, it seemed this man was doing everything in his power to look like it.

Yet his voice was energetic.

A kindness and innocent joy held within each word. 'Right, I am supposed to do introductions. Okay. Greetings, champion of Khorne! I am uh–' He pauses, one of his clawed fingers tapping the front of his mask. He groaned and mumbled to himself a few curses under breath. '-how can I forget to come up with a cool name? All the months waiting for my chance and I can't even–'

'My name is Marinette.'

'Wait, is that your hero name?'

'Hero name?'

'Oh my gods, did you tell me your real name!? You're not supposed to say that! Secret identities and stuff!'

She only shrugged her shoulders in response. Watching somehow the skull he wore on his face seemed able to show some of his facial reactions. Even how he rolls his eyes at her. 'Gods, please, give me strength.' He groans out childishly. She was going to ask who he was and what he was doing in trying to speak with her.

But their attention is grabbed by a loud rumble and they both look towards a large building a few blocks away from as it falls. Neither made a response at first. Both just stood their ground, watching the entire thing crumble and collapse in on itself. A large cloud of dust forming underneath it. Echoing screams being heard.

'How many people do you think made it out?' His tone immediately had changed to show his immediate concern. He asked the question but she held her tongue as she knew it would be wrong to just tell him that none would have had enough time to escape the crumbling building. Especially the people that were on the top floors. He was too kind to hear her say that. Somehow, hearing the genuine care in his voice made her more angry. The nails were biting as her rage boiled.

Without another word, she bent her knees and then leaped through the air, jumping even further than before, as she followed the path of destruction the creature made. A scream bellowed out her lips as she flew through the air, sometimes landing and making a dash to build up more momentum to aid in her movement.

She reaches a stadium. Landing over on the roof, she looks within the field and sees her target. The mass of flesh and stone was attempting to kill more. Attacking children who had no means to protect themselves and were trying to flee from it.

Marinette would not have it. She had leaped once more, her lungs burning with her screaming in rage as loudly as she could. To be loud, to get the monster's attention. It worked.

Her body crashed against the creature with enough to force it back a few steps. She had grabbed onto it, and began to rip it apart with her bare hands. Digging her fingers into the bloated mix of flesh and rock before pulling with all her might, she would hear the sounds of bone creaking and wet flesh tearing. The creature would roar, trying to throw her off itself. Swinging its massive weight around in an attempt to throw her off.

She roared back, refusing to lose her grip on the creature. Blood spurted from its wounds, a terrible mixture of red liquid and yellow glowing ooze. The creature is bleeding. That means she could kill it.

It attempted to reach her with its large arms, but she had landed upon its back. Its bulging and bloated muscles made it impossible for it to reach her. She had laughed at its attempts. Laughed for possibly the first time in the two years since the nails entered her brain.

Was it her heart racing? Was it her adrenaline pumping? Was it the violence of it all? Marinette didn't know. But for the first time in so long, she could feel again. 'I'll kill you and rip out whatever passes for a skull, you disgusting-'

The creature throws itself backward, landing on the floor with her under it. Marinette's form is smothered, not even able to allow a scream at what felt like the weight of an entire bus had just landed on her. Something in her broke, she was sure of it. Burning heat flared within her chest.

When the creature pulls itself up, she would see the front armor of her armor was seeping blood and completely dented inward. That may explain why it was so hard to breathe, even with the creature off her, and why warm blood is gurgling from her throat.

She was dying. And she didn't know how to react to that. She knows she should be scared and feeling panic. Instead, she feels oddly calm. Isn't this what she wanted? What those intrusive random thoughts were when she felt the nails would be too much. She could finally rest. No longer deal with the pain of living. She could be at peace.

Then she heard screaming.

Turning her head, Marinette sees the creature attempting to chase after one of the children still in the stadium. A boy around her age, she even believed he was in her class. Kim was his name. He was egotistical, dumb, and liked to mess with others. Sometimes too far. But he was scared. He had fallen onto his back and was trying to crawl away. But he isn't fast enough. He was going to die.

That single realization made Marinette think of the other people. The police. The civilians that couldn't get away in time. That entire building that collapsed. So many are hurt or dead. So many that would never tell their loved ones that they are loved.

Marinette was no longer at peace. She was now angry again.

The burning in her chest worsened as she stood to her feet, spreading through her own body through her nerves. Like a million needles were pricking her at every inch possible. She did not care. Even as her body made demands for her to stop, she forced herself forward. Stomp after stomp.

Instinctively, she had placed her hand over her chest. Feeling her blood leaking into her palms. Yet it doesn't fall from her grip. It forms within it. Becoming solid. Becoming a weapon for her to use.

The creature was not looking at her, focused on its prey. It was reaching for the boy. Speaking out garble words that would possibly make sense to itself. Its wounds are closing, as more mutations are growing. Sprouting rocks and tongues in each torn bit of flesh. Growing in size as it healed.

It didn't matter. It still bleeds the same.

A fact that Marinette learns as she throws her weapon at the creature's outstretched arm. The weapon that formed from her blood has taken an impossible shape, into that of a large axe. With a motor attached and serrated edges of a chain. A chainsaw axe. A chainaxe. And possibly one of the most beautiful things Marinette has ever seen.

The creature wailed as it took several steps back. The chainaxe motor was on, the blades were carving through the stone and flesh of its arm with little effort. The creature's blood is spewing like a broken fountain, going in all directions and across the field.

Marinette took her chance to run, to step in the way between the creature and the boy it was reaching to kill. 'No more. You will not take another.' She tells it, glaring with all her might as she takes her stand. The pain was tremendous, yet she stood.

The creature roared once more as it threw down its arm. Unlodging the chainaxe from it. The limb was only barely hanging on by a few threads of muscle tissue. Already, the creature was mutating again, and even growing in size once and new eyes began to form the new wound. Effectively stitching its limb back together through grotesque growths. It roared at Marinette. More unintelligent babble of what it was attempting to make as words.

She answers its challenge by grabbing at her chainaxe that fell by her feet. Revving the engine once more. 'I will have last blood!' She shouts towards it, gripping her axe with both hands. Pleased to hear the boy behind her was running away. That he would survive.

She readies herself, preparing to leap into battle. Her grip tightened on the axe, feeling its vibrations. She bends her legs to leap.

Instead, she stumbled backwards as suddenly a large garbage truck came seemingly from nowhere. The vehicle crashed into the creature, the sheer speed of the truck being enough to carry it. Till they ran directly into a field wall with a loud booming sound of broken concrete and awkwardly bent metal.

'By Nurgle's horns, that was too close.' Marinette looked and realized a figure was on the floor. Having thrown himself from the speeding garbage truck, staff in hand and horned skull still on his face. 'Not bad for the first time I drove a car, right?' Despite everything, he still sounded cheerful as he made to stand himself up from the grass.

'That was a truck. Not a car. And you crashed.'

'Semantics.' He waves his hand at her in a playful manner but pauses as he looks at the truck's wreckage. Seeing the vehicle being pushed back. The creature was growing and healing for the third time now. Easily looking to be over four times the height of a grown man now. 'You think if I told him to pick on someone his own size, he would leave us alone.'

'No.'

'Yeah, I thought so.' Stabbing his staff into the grass, he reaches to his waist and pulls free the large dagger he had tied to his robes. Without any hesitation, he uses the dagger to slice into his palm. 'Champion of Khorne, you're wounded. I offer you my blood.'

Marinette felt taken aback by it. She should be focused on the creature, but her attention is stolen. She can only focus on the blood in the skull boy's hand as it seeps from the tear in his glove. It looked rich. Flavourful even. Like a very expensive wine. Just now, Marinette had also realized how dry her throat felt. Possibly from all her screaming. She should be disgusted by it. Instead, she takes the offer. Raising her helmet, just enough to show her lips, she tastes his blood. Intoxication couldn't even begin to describe how she felt after.

Within moments, the pain in her chest faded. Her body began to feel better, and simply standing wasn't taking all her strength to do. The blood was healing her. In fact, she was feeling stronger than ever before because of the blood.

'Blood offered is different from taking it. More personal and dynamic among the followers of The Blood God, right?' She wasn't listening to him. She just focused on the taste of her meal. Her tongue rolled around the cut of his gloved hand to get each drop. She surprised herself when suddenly he pulled his hand away, and she growled like a dog that had its treat stolen. 'Okay! That's enough! No tongue on the first date!' As she slid her helmet back down, she could see the skull face boy was trying to look away from her. Embarrassment being read on his mask for a moment.

'Oh. Sorry.' Marinette tells him plainly, turning her attention to the approaching creature. Trying to force her head to clear, as it felt the high fade. Smacking herself at the side of the helmet helped with that. 'He grows each time I hurt, break, and cut him. It's annoying.' Holding her chainaxe at the ready, she starts the motor once more as she is about to rush into the fight once more. Feeling its vibrations within her grip gave her some sense of security. Though if she were to be honest, this was not a situation she felt comfortable in, as the creature was slowly walking to them. Not by choice. Its larger mass was slowing it down as its legs seemed to struggle to move its own new weight. Over bloated flesh and stone were rubbing against each other with each step the creature made. It screamed at them, yellow ooze following from its hideous face. It looked to be in pain.

'Chaos Spawns are tricky creatures. But they aren't unkillable.' The boy takes back his staff, as he places his dagger back at his waist. 'Something caused this to be made. Whoever this person was, they are nothing but a mindless creature now that is just lashing out at others.'

Marinette was not sure how to take such a revelation. As she looked again at the creature, seeing the flesh, seeing the general shape. The name was fitting, a "Chaos Spawn". To think it was somehow human once only made her more disgusted. 'It killed too many.' The words leave her lips in whispers, but she could tell he heard her. Could see his hand tighten along his staff.

'We will return the favor.'

Marinette couldn't agree with him more.

She ran forward, chainaxe roaring in her hand as she rushed at the Chaos Spawn. It attempted to swing at her, slamming its large fist into the earth. But as she observed, it was getting slower. Its growing mass was becoming too much for itself. Easily, she was able to move aside to dodge the strike, her chainaxe meeting flesh and stone, ripping through both once more as she pulled with all her might and refused to stop her movement. Cleaving through the Spawn's limb, it screams once more. But that seems the only acknowledgment of the pain, as the Spawn attempts to throw its weight over her once more. Its entire body crashed onto the ground.

Again, easily she dodges. Leaping backward at its humiliating attempts to fight back. All sense of enjoyment was leaving the fight. It was even starting to get too easy as again she raised her chainaxe and tears through its exposed shoulder. Holding her arm against the back of the weapon, she pushes deep as the chains continue to run. Blood was splatting and covering everything, even Marinette's vision. But she didn't want to stop, not till the Spawn's entire limb would be cut off this time. So that it could spill more blood.

'Pokemon lied to me! This isn't effective at all!' Marinette feels herself being picked up and pulled into the air. Doing so only because of her tight grip on her chainaxe. She shakes her head, trying to clear her vision from behind her helmet. When she could open her eyes, she saw the boy with a skull mask crouching on the other shoulder. A long water hose was in his free hand, something he used to stab into the creature's neck, burying the nozzle right into the flesh as if it were a weapon. His staff was being used to help with the impalement somehow. The skull ornament on the top of it had its eyes glowing similarly to the boy's mask.

Whatever he was doing, there didn't seem time for it as the Chaos Spawn was trying to throw them off itself. Throwing its weight around as to take them off its shoulders. Marinette was quick to remember what had happened before. Using her other hand to get a grip, she pulls herself up, even as she could feel her sense of balance completely off. Now was not a time to be clumsy. 'Mary, I have a plan-' The skull boy tried to shout at her, but she was too quick. Launching herself at him, tackling both themselves off the creature, just as it threw itself back.

They both landed on the grass together. Possibly the third time that day, Marinette's face met the ground. Still was not close to her personal record of doing so in a single day. Thankfully, this time, she couldn't feel it due to her helmet. Though still needed to spit a few blades of grass from her lips as she stood up to her feet. 'It landed on me last time I climbed on it.'

'Yeah, good call.' The boy groaned as he pulled himself to sit up right alongside her, coughing to catch his breath. Marinette could see she had tackled him with her full strength, and he was gasping for breath. All the air knocked from his lungs. Possibly not helpful that they fell for about the equivalent of two stories. She was about to say something of an apology but stopped as he showed her that he had grabbed onto the hose cord. That one that led to the nuzzle he just used as a weapon. 'Water is running. Want to see a magic trick?' Despite the clear pain he was in, she could see the skull mask he wore was baring a grin somehow.

Hearing the rumbling, they both turned to see the creature had its back turned to them as it was picking itself back up. Wounds healing and closing up as it was growing, yet as it was doing so, the flesh and stone grew around foreign objects. Her chainaxe and his staff had sunken into the flesh, and the nuzzle of the hose was doing the same. But with the hose, she could see the Chaos Spawn's flesh was reacting, squirming as water was running into it. Marinette looked back at the boy, trying to understand if this was the plan he was trying to tell her and how it would count as a magic trick.

Then she saw him raise his other hand to the hose, as suddenly sparks were showing. 'I usually only do this with a lightbulb. But, I'll try anything once!' Marinette narrowed her vision as sudden bright electricity flashed before her eyes from the boy's hand into the hose. In less than a few seconds, the Chaos Spawn was screaming again. But this time, it was different. Instead of the insane babble of attempt at words, it was just a sheer scream of agony. Carried along with the terrible smell of melting flesh.

Taking a glance towards it, Marinette sees the over 20 foot tall creature of flesh and stone boiling from the inside out. It thrashed around, throwing its weight around in a frenzy. Trying in some way to stop the pain it was feeling. Soon, what would pass for its skin would turn black and rubbery. The multiple eyes along its body pop and melt. And then the Chaos Spawn would fall over. Its large body collapses into the ground. The screams would die out and it would become quiet and still. Seemingly dead.

The moment it had looked that way, the boy gave out a long breath, and Marinette stopped seeing the electricity sparking from his hand. Letting the hose cord fall from his hand, he lays back into the grass. Letting out a tired, but a pleased laugh. 'Thank the gods that worked. Cause I am completely wiped.'

She couldn't help but comment about it, as she moved to sit more comfortably beside him. 'You only got hit once. And it was by me.'

'Yeah, and I think you bruised my chest.' He counters, though his mask was smiling at her. She felt her lips pull back, once more. She didn't know why. But he made her smile. Though he probably couldn't see it behind her helmet.

Suddenly, there came a voice. 'Spectacular, incredible, Supreme!' A young teen came at them, holding her phone out to them as she was recording. Marinette couldn't believe who it was. The new girl that had stood up to Chloe and had pulled her from her seat. The one that ruined her father's macarons. 'Who are you two? Where are you from? Are you two gonna be protecting Paris from now on? What's with the evil costumes?'

'Okay. Rude.' The boy says, as he holds out his hand and tries to shoo the girl away. 'I don't come after you save the day and demand to play 20 questions.'

'Sorry, I am just so excited and I have so many questions to ask you both.'

'And they can wait.' He waves her off again before leaning closer to Marinette and whispering how this girl was as bad as some reporters he knew. That they should be careful before she starts asking about what brand of socks they wear.

Marinette's laughs at the thought. Genuinely laughs while throwing her head back. Basking in the sunlight for a small moment as she takes everything in. Though immediately afterward, sheer confusion took hold of her.

She laughed. She smiled. She had fun. That shouldn't be possible. That hadn't been possible for her for the past two years.

'Hey, what's wrong?' The boy noticed and moved to place a hand on her arm. One look in his eyes, and she could see he was worried. The girl that was playing reporter was trying to ask questions, but Marinette focused on the skull wearing boy as he was trying to look her over. 'You're covered in so much blood, I can't even tell. Are you hurt? Do you feel pain anywhere?'

That was when the realization came to her. That as she was fighting, something changed in her, but she only noticed just now. For the first time in so long, something she thought impossible happened. The nails had stopped biting. The pain was gone. Vanished completely. For the first time in years, Marinette could feel. Could smile. Could laugh.

She was alive again. Her old self.

'Is this a dream?' Her hands find the boy's arms. Holding him as he held on to her while her mind felt overwhelmed with old emotions. The fear. The worry. The love. The happiness. All that the nails had taken from her, and she was able to have it all back. All at once, they had returned to her.

'No. We're awake, and we're okay.'

'It's too much. I-' She stops, finding her voice isn't leaving her lips right. She was choking up. Her vision was becoming blurred. She was happy. She was so unbelievably happy. 'I'm free. I'm finally free.' She knew her voice was creaking, and she couldn't care less. The nails had stopped working. She could feel again.

'Okay, what is happening? Seriously!'

'Is this from the monster? Some kind of psychic attack!? Are you feeling it too?'

'Hey! Give us some space!'

Marinette had her eyes closed. She could hear the two speaking but she couldn't listen. She was starting to laugh again. Even as tears flowed from her eyes and down her cheeks. She reaches for her helmet, willing to just rip it off as she wanted to feel the nails to check if they were even still in her head.

She was stopped as her wrists were grabbed. 'Hey, we talked about secret identities, remember!" She laughed again at his voice, then leaned forward. Pressing the front of her helmet against his chest. Right up against the necklace of animal bones he wore. And she suddenly felt like crying.

So she did.

In an instant, she held onto the boy and didn't for a moment let go as she sobbed into him. Finally, she could let it out. All the sorrow she felt. All the regret. Too long, all she had was rage. She wanted to feel everything she could. Because she was free now.

'If she needs help, I can-'

'She having a moment, can you just leave us alone! Please!'

'But-'

'Enough!' Marinette opened her eyes as suddenly the boy pulled away from her hold and stood up. He was stomping towards the new girl, who was backing away fearfully. 'We had just risked our lives. She is clearly emotionally vulnerable. And I asked you nicely to leave, keep pushing and I swear to the gods, I'll make you a sacrifice in their name! So for the last time, will you just please go away!'

The girl finally seems to have the sense to listen to him. Turning around and running off while giving a quick apology. As she left through one of the field stadium entrances, Marinette just now realized that the boy had taken out his dagger to threaten the girl. Marinette couldn't argue with the results, though did find it in poor taste. She was just being a fan, if annoying.

'You didn't need to do that.' She told him.

'Yes, I did. You were…' The boy pauses as he turns back to face her. His tone quickly changed from anger to shame. 'You obviously don't need someone like that asking questions right now.' He returns to her, kneeling beside her and suddenly he is reaching for his mask.

Marinette had to take a few moments to blink her eyes in shock as she saw it was Chole's friend. His hair was messier, his green eyes were holding a super natural glow to them, and there seemed to be something similar to black grease paint that covered the area around his eyes, acting as a domino mask. But it was Adrien.

'Look, forget what I said about secret identities. Just tell me what you need, and I'll help as best I can.' Marinette found herself whispering his name absentmindedly. Possibly from shock. 'Oh, you're a fan.' He chuckled, rolling his bright eyes. 'Please do not ask for an autograph cause I am pretty sure neither of us have a pen.' Though he was attempting a joke, he placed a hand on her arm again. His grip was gentle, making sure his clawed fingers wouldn't harm her.

Just as she guessed it. He was very kind.

'Not even for a friend-in-law.' She jokes back and could feel herself smiling as he held a bewildered look on his face. Then she reached for her helmet and pulled it off. 'Hi.' She giggles as the greeting leaves her lips, seeing his jaw become slack.

'By the gods. By the gods of chaos!' Adrien's face quickly turns from shock to amazement and he starts to laugh. Holding a hand to his head as his eyes had widened and he was looking at her in absolute wonder. 'What are the odds? I can't believe it!' Marinette didn't know how to react to such a thing, with him obviously feeling so many emotions.

'Really? With how often you keep mentioning gods, I figured you were a big believer of things.'

A loud "HA" escapes him as he lowers his hand from her. Instead, he used it to gesture at her as his eyes looked her over, one last time. 'You're Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.'

'So Chole did mention me.'

'A few times.' How quickly his eyes are quick to look elsewhere. Making an obvious lie even more obvious. His tone was more than enough of a giveaway. Not that she cared what Chole had to say behind her back. There were much more pressing matters. The nails.

Marinette raised a hand to her temple. She felt for the Butcher's Nails. The familiar touch of steel is felt. The cables were still there but had seemingly stopped working. She humors the thought that maybe all her movement made something come loose in her skull. It made the most sense at the time,

'But again, and full seriousness.' Marinette pulls her hand down as she hears Adrien's tone change back to concern. He leans closer to her, lowering his voice to ask quietly. 'You okay? You were kind of falling apart a second ago? Is there anything you need?'

There were a lot of things she needed at the moment. A shower. A meal. A bed. A vacation from school as there was maybe still class tomorrow. But most of all, Marinette needed to go home. She needed her parents. To hold them in her arms and thank them. Cry with them. Laugh with them. Be their daughter again.

It's what they deserved after so long.

'I need to go home.'

'Then, can I do the gentleman thing and escort a lady to said home?'

He stood up back to his feet and offered her his arm. Marinette stood up on her own before playfully slapping his offer away. 'I can escort myself. Besides, I think you need to head home yourself. That lady and the big guy that were with you before might be looking for you now.' She said, remembers back to their first encounter.

'Oh, that's my dad's assistant and my bodyguard. As far as they know, I am still in my room sulking about not going to school. Rather, stay here and examine the big guy, see what made him.' He pointed a thumb towards the large fried corpse that lay slumped on the field.

'Most people I know wouldn't sulk about missing school. '

'Do I look like most people?' He leaned forward again and gave a grin that fit more of a mischievous cat more than it did a boy. 'Don't worry, I have faith that I can work something out. Hopefully, we can do something like this again.'

'Maybe. Though I would rather deal with a lot less danger next time. Bye, Adrien.'

'Farewell, Mary.'

Placing her helmet back on, Marinette turns and jumps. Still given such strength she couldn't understand, easily she is able to make it to the stands and then make it to the top of the stadium. From there, she runs, throwing herself off the ledge and through the air.

She recognizes where she was and how far she was from her home. Within less than two minutes, she made it back. Landing within an alleyway that was a few meters away, she could see into the bakery. There was a closed sign out front, and from the windows, Marinette could see parents were worryingly moving around. Her mother was on the phone. Possibly trying to either call the school or the police in hopes of finding her. A sense of guilt came over Marinette at how worried they might have been, finding her missing from her room as a creature was outside killing people.

She took a step, ready to rush to them but stopped short as she remembered what Adrien had told her. The idea of secret identities. It would not end well if you told them the truth. Especially not if she comes into the bakery still covered in blood and wearing some kind of outfit. They have a hard enough time letting her go to school by herself, if they knew she had run across rooftops and fought a creature that had nearly killed her, it would worry them to the point of being ill.

Lying was out of the question. The nails made that impossible. But that was when they had worked. That was when they were biting into her skull. With them not working, perhaps she could say something, make up some kind of excuse why she had snuck out of the house without them knowing. Though the thought made her feel disgusted at such a thing. She loved her parents. She wanted to tell them she loved them. For the past two years, the nails wouldn't let her do so. Couldn't say the words because it would be a lie.

It took away her happiness. It took away her love. Her creativity. Her sorrow. Her fears. Her hopes. It took everything it could and left her with nothing. An emptiness. The only emotion she had was rage. A kind of rage that is just always bubbling, a rage that she knew was toxic to hold onto. What had kept her going through this time was the memories of what she had, was the love she felt for her family and the happiness they gave her. Though now, she could feel it again. She could be their daughter. Make friends. Meet Adrien again and laugh with him some more.

She could be free-

Pain.

Pain that was familiar.

The pain of the nails came suddenly and without warning. Biting deep and furiously, like burning oil was being injected into her mind. It was agony of an intensity she had only felt once before. The kind that made her limbs turn numb and forced her to scream out loudly as her lungs could bear. Her mind was burning. Her skull felt as if it was being torn apart. Her brain couldn't think.

Marinette collapses to the floor, screaming in the alleyway. As she felt the Butcher's Nails effect return. Doing so with the same biting and clawing as they did when they were first hammered into her skull. She howls and wails, thrashing her body into the floor. Slamming her face against the alleyways walls and floor. Just anything to make her be distracted from it. Something comes over her, something inhuman. She sees hooves, horns, eyes that know nothing but rage and hate. She sees blood. She sees skulls.

And then she sees nothing.

She stops screaming. She stops moving. She stops breathing. She feels her heart in her chest as it slows its beating. Becoming slower and slower by the second. And then it becomes quiet for Marinette. Even as people from outside the alleyway rushed towards her, to see what had been screaming, she couldn't hear a word they spoke. It made it easy for Marinette to close her eyes.

The nails were back. The pain was back.

The love she felt for her parents was gone. The happiness she had, the hope, everything went as it did before. The nails took it all back. Leaving her with nothing but her rage and pain. She wanted to cry again. To let tears roll. But she couldn't. Not anymore.

Her mother and father's voices are heard shouting her name. She opens her eyes to them, sees as her father shoves his way through the crowd, her mother right behind him as they are at her side. 'Oh god, sweetie, what happened? Where did you go?' Her mother asks, as they both look over her to try and find if she was injured. No sign of anger in their eyes. Only love, guilt, and fear for their only child. A child that felt little for them in return. Only some odd sense of transactional fairness that she owes it to them to try and pretend she can be worth something in their eyes.

She wanted to tell them she didn't deserve them. But speaking was hard, her mind was burned, her throat ached, and even keeping her eyes open was a struggle.

'My head hurts.' She hated how weak she spoke the words. She feels her father picking her up in his arms. Her mother was brushing her hair with her fingers. Both of them tried to comfort her. Like they used to when she was little. Her helmet was gone. She was back in her normal clothing somehow. She tries to question any of it. The nails, her clothing, the strength, the chainaxe, why she was free for a few minutes. A few minutes.

8 minutes…

"I am the eightfold path."

The words have been branded into her mind. And then all Marinette sees is black as she closes her eyes and lets exhaustion take over.


[And thus, my new story plan. This one being a crossover between Miraculous Ladybug and Warhammer 40,000. With a very unique aspect of it. I am sure not many others would think it nice to grab a poor girl and force her to have one of the worst devices in all of 40k, but I did! But it is a fascinating idea for a character, and I really wanted to do it.

I had a lot of fun, and a few annoyances. Such as their costumes, for those that know less about games workshop miniatures, that is entirely what I based Marinette and Adrien's new superhero identities on.

Adrien takes a look very similar to "The Master of Possession" of the chaos space marine. Marinette takes an appearance as a "Bloodseeker" of the Khorne Blood Bowl Team. With some minor changes. There isn't nearly any positive Chaos stories as their should be. So this is one of them, with Marinette under the eyes of Khorne while Adrien is undivided. More information will be revealed later on.

Please, leave your thoughts. I really love to hear them.]