мσcнα мσσsε cσғғεε нσυsε

[[deleted user]]

[Morgan]

In the horizon Sybil could see the sun slowly start to rise. It was a chilly morning as she walked down the vacant streets of Lake City. It's inhabitants weren't usually up this early, but soon enough this town would be bustling with people out shopping, running errands, and even going to work. This was Sybil's fourth day here in the town and she had already memorized its daily routine being as observant as she was. It was easy for her to memorize things because of all the practice she had when she was on a hunt, much like now. She had to be aware of everything. She had to memorize everything from street signs to people's faces to house addresses. It got easier and easier as the years rolled on. Sybil could already sense that people were waking up. Looking down at the silver watch fastened to her wrist, it read: 6:15 AM. Everyone was right on time. This was the usual hour the people of this town woke up and prepared to get their children to school and themselves to work.

Sybil wrapped her grey jacket a little tighter around her body, finding some sort of warmth from the chilly morning air. She had to wrap it because the zipper was broken. It had been pulled off when she was chasing after a mutant a few hunts ago. She was running down the street that night and it was pitch black out. She had finally gotten a lead on the mutant she has been looking for for a few weeks. While chasing after him down an alley way, her zipper got snagged on a chain link fence and was yanked off. Sybil didn't have the money to buy a new jacket, nor did she have the time to go all the way back home and get a new one. Wrapping it for the time being would suffice.

Yawning sleepily, Sybil rubbed her blue eyes and tucked a lose strand of blonde curly hair out of her face. She continued walking down the street with an exact location in her brilliant mind. The coffee shop. It had been a long time since she had drank coffee, but at the moment it seemed as though it was the only thing that would keep her awake. She needed to be alert at the moment and being tired wasn't going to help. Her gait quickened dramatically as she rounded the corner and set foot on the same street as the coffee shop. She steps were quick and wide, leading her down the sidewalk fast. She looked into each building checking her surroundings, observing things as always. She was memorizing each little shop just in case she needed to go to it in the future.

At last she reached the coffee shop. Taking in a deep breath, she swung the door open and was greeted by the ding of a bell, the strong bitter scent of coffee, and warmth. She stepped in confidently, tugging her white t-shirt down over her double handguns so no one could see them, although the only people here were a few workers and an old man in the corner reading the newspaper. Her sword was expertly hidden under her jacket as well. It was a small coffee shop, yet it was homey and a pleasant place to be in. Sybil made a mental note to come back if she ever needed some coffee. A cheery hostess noticed her when she entered and directed her to a table for one in the dining area. She followed her and took her spot at the table and was handed a menu.

Looking around the coffee house, she could just sense that something was wrong. Something was going to happen. Sybil remembered what she was here for. She was on a hunt. She had been informed that there had been many signs and disturbances, but no one could track down the mutant, which is why they sent her to check things out. Turning her gaze to the menu that sat in front of her, she closed it. She was only in her for coffee, but she had a strange feeling something was going to happen so sipping it slowly was her best bet. She planned on waiting for what ever it was to occur. Usaully when she had a hunch about something, she was always correct. Her waitress returned and asked her if her was ready to order and Sybil simply asked for a coffee. When the waitress left she looked around again, but nothing had changed only the sun had become brighter. The old man was still reading the news paper and the workers were in the back playing around. Growing inpatient like always, she began to tap her foot feeling as if they were taking too long on her coffee even though it had only been a few minutes.

[dany]

((I've seen this place in real life >.>))

[Morgan]

((Fun.))

[[deleted user]]

Oliver had almost reached Maxwell's Academy and his excitement was only growing with each passing moment. The chance to be around more people like him, the chance to not be looked upon as an outcast was a desire he'd had for years. Now, as he entered into the town where his new life would begin, feelings of relief and hope filled him. Things would be different here, he could just feel it. Lake City was absolutely stunning in the morning light, the sun's bright rays glinting off of the windows of the small shops that lined the towns Main Street. It was a relatively small place, only about half a dozen people on road and even less strolling down the sidewalks. It was relatively early and he imagined that things would start to liven up as the day went on.

His observations were interrupted by his desperately growling stomach. He'd skipped dinner the night before, choosing instead to browse the local library. They had a wonderful poetry section and it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. The entries in his journal had nearly doubled in the few hours that he'd spent among the books. Just thinking about all of the beautiful pieces he'd managed to add to his little collection brought a smile to his lips. With the smell of paper clinging to his simple jeans, t-shirt and messy hair, he made his way down the sidewalk in a hunt for food and caffeine. Stumbling upon a quaint little coffee house, he made himself as inconspicuous as possible and walked through the door. Hearing a little bell ding above him, announcing his presence, he cringed. So much for keeping a low profile.

He kept his gentle brown eyes downcast, avoiding making eye contact with anyone because he knew precisely where it would lead. Eye contact would lead to a smile and then a smile could very well become a conversation, which is something that he didn't really want to get involved in. His vocal cords were bothering him, as they did from time to time. With a sore throat and his brown locks falling into his eyes, he scanned the room as he went towards the counter. There was an older gentleman, a young woman and the employees. A sigh of relief escaped him as he deemed the place safe. Ever since he'd been chased a few days before, he'd been extra careful about laying low. He'd managed to escape, but there was still the risk of being found again.

Ollie made it to the counter after a few long strides, the coffee house not being very large in size. Upon being asked what he would like by an exceptionally perky middle aged woman, he gazed above her head at the menu that was hanging at an angle that showed it needed to be replaced. The shop was ultimately antique and a bit run-down, but cozy nonetheless. "A blueberry muffin and a coffee please." He read, looking down as soon as he'd ordered. His eyes were locked into his shoes, examining the dirt and dust that coated the black Chuck Taylor's. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, waiting for the employee to give him a total but she didn't.

Looking up at her, he saw a look of pure terror on her face and she was staring down at the counter. Dropping his gaze, he saw that exactly what he ordered had appeared on the marble counter. His eyes widened and he knew that he'd just blown whatever cover he had managed to obtain. The woman screamed, much to his dismay, and ran off into the kitchen. Her words were mottled by the steel door but she was yelling something about a freak being in the shop. His hands were shaking as he slipped his wallet back into his pocket, trying to play it cool. Maybe nobody would notice.... He turned on his heel, about to leave, when he did something he'd tried extremely hard not to. He made eye contact. With the girl.

[Morgan]

Every breathe Sybil took was filled with the thick scent of pure coffee, but she was slowly getting used to it. She looked around causally once again, observing every possible detail. She listened in on the workers conversation and she looked over to see what the old man was reading about. She read every sign and poster hanging in the coffee house, but nothing could quite entertain her. She felt something deep down, as if she was meant to be here. She wasn't quite sure why, but she was glad she decided to get some coffee this random morning.

Sybil was happy, yet angry about how slow this service was. She was happy because they were wasting more time so she had to wait here longer. The longer she waited the sooner whatever it was would happen, but she was also getting very frustrated. They were taking too long and once again, Sybil was very impatient. Her foot tapped at a faster rate as the seconds ticked by without her coffee in sight. She started to mentally go over things in her head. The town's lay out, the places she had been to, the houses she had investigated and yet, no sign of the mutant she was tracking down.

This hunt was a blank slate to her even though it had only been four days since she had arrived. All the investigating and searching she had done hadn't helped one bit. She had no leads on this mutant, it was either really good at hiding or Sybil was just looking in the wrong places and asking the wrong people. It would turn up eventually, all mutants did. They would slip up and blow their cover and that's when Sybil would strike. She would have to do it in a secluded vacant area though. It was for the best of the people that she didn't attack a mutant out in the open. Her usual plan was to follow it to its house or living quarters and then stage the attack. No one saw most of the time, but when they did Sybil paid them handsomely to keep their mouths shut.

Suddenly she heard the slight slam of a coffee mug and looked up to see the waitress their. "Enjoy." She told Sybil and she nodded in response. Sybil watched the waitress walk away, observing her closely, seeing if she could spot any signs of mutants but came up blank. She moved her gaze down to her coffee. It was unsweetened and pitch black. Not at all how she preferred it. Reaching forward to the small basket in the middle of the table, she grabbed a few pink packets of sugar and two small containers of coffee creamer. She opened the packets of sugar and poured them in, then did the same to the creamer. Stirring it all together with the straw, the black coffee slowly turned a lighter shade of brown. Sybil took the straw out and set it down on a clean napkin before raising the mug up to her soft lips, slowly sipping it.

The sound of the bell rang through the coffee house, signaling another costumer had entered. Looking up to see who it was, Sybil noticed a boy that looked around her age. The first thing that popped into her mind when she saw him was weak. He looked as if he couldn't handle himself against any oncoming threat. It was pathetic. She had no suspicions as to whether or not he was a mutant. He couldn't be. A normal mutant would be able to hold their own in a fight and he was far from it. Sybil took another small sip of her coffee and felt the warm liquid run all the way down her throat as she watched the frail boy walk to the counter.

Sybil set her mug down on the table, casting her glance out the window. The streets were getting busier with people either walking or driving to their destination for the day. She turned her attention back to her coffee and took yet another sip. The boy was still at the counter and it seemed as if he was just about to order. Everything in this coffee house was dull and uninteresting. It seemed as though whatever she felt was going to happen wouldn't. Just as she thought her hunch was completely wrong, she heard the boy at the front counter ordering a blue berry muffin and coffee. What she saw next let everything fall into place and gave the mutant's cover away.

When he spoke the words off the menu the food appeared out of thin air. There was no possible way any human could do that. The lady screaming that he was a freak in the back also gave it away. Sybil had finally found the mutant she had been looking for for the last four days. She could tell by the look on his softly featured face that he hadn't meant to do that. He was freaking out, great. This was just what she needed. A mutant that couldn't even control his powers. She watched him with a steady gaze as he went for the door. She needed to stay calm and follow him out. There was no point rushing this process. It wasn't like he could out run her or put up a descent fight.

Just as he walked to the door he stopped. Sybil raised a thin blonde eyebrow in confusion. He was looking right at her like a deer in headlights. Why wasn't he leaving? He had just given away his powers to the few people in here. Who knew who they would tell. If she was him she'd be out the door and already down the street running, but instead he stood there, staring. If he wasn't going to run then Sybil would make him. Standing up, she pushed her chair being ever so calm. She pulled her shirt down, hiding her duel handguns once again, but keeping her hands near her hips just in case. Pulling a ten dollar bill out of her pocket, she set it down on the table for her waitress before walking slowly over to the mutant boy not giving away a single clue that she was an Elite.

[[deleted user]]

Oliver's heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing quick and sharp as his body pumped out adrenaline like it was a factory desperately trying to meet some kind of deadline. With his body on high alert, he kept his alarmed amber gaze cast upon the undeniably beautiful girl sitting at a table in close proximity to him. She had long, curly blonde hair and fair skin that was incredibly smooth. She seemed to glow in the sunlight that pierced through the pane of glass that made up the window positioned above her table. She was perched atop her chair with such grace and poise, it was astonishing and it felt as if he couldn't tear his eyes away from her entrancing beauty. Her gaze was locked onto him, but surely not with the admiration that was in his own eyes. He knew how weak he looked and how weak he actually was. A girl like her could never see anything in a guy like him. It'd taken years, but he finally understood that. Rejection was always a phenomenal teacher.

He toyed with the hem of his shirt, unable to break the eye contact that he had made and it didn't really seem like she was able to either. She had seen what he'd done, so maybe she was just shocked or curious about exactly what kind of '"freak" he was, as the lady at the counter had so rudely pointed out. The comment stung, more so than they would know and he just wanted to leave. However, that girl was making it rather difficult. That is, until she rose from her seat and left money on her table. Clearly she was finished with her coffee, but the strange thing was that the cup was still almost full, practically brimming with hot coffee. So...why was she leaving?

It didn't make sense, but when she started walking over to him, he felt ultimately uneasy. What did she want? To talk? To ask him questions? To point out just how different he was? Well, he wasn't sticking around to find out. Taking careful steps, he brushed past the girl just as she was making her way over to him. "Excuse me." He murmured in that gentle tone of his, making it to the door in a matter of seconds and turning the rustic looking knob. Swinging the door open, he bolted. The door continued to sway slowly, set into motion by his abrupt efforts to leave the place. All logic was out the window and he was in full panic mode.

His converses padded against the concrete softly as he ran down the street, cutting into an empty alleyway after only a few feet in an attempt to lose anyone who may have followed him. With all of the Elites that were being sent out by the government, he didn't want to risk it, even if he may have looked psychotic in front of all of those people. It was worth it if it meant his life, though he doubted any of those calm citizens were one of the killers who hunted his kind. Though, books shouldn't be judged by their covers and it was a principal that he tried to live by. With that in mind, he pumped his legs as fast as they could go, which really wasn't very fast. His physic was small, perfect for running, but his leg muscles weren't as strong as most boys his age were, which resulted in his lack of speed.

Ollie was just a fragile little thing and knew that his only defense would be the characters and such that he could animate with literary phrases that dripped from his tongue like honey. He'd become an amazing reader over the years, his voice soft and soothing except for when his throat was bothering him, like today. It worried him, but he at least had to try and defend himself if someone came after him. His fears were confirmed when he heard rapid footsteps behind him. Someone was chasing him and it was obvious that they were faster than he was. Anxiety flooded him and he reached his hands around his back, pulling up his shirt and fumbling for the small leather journal that he kept tucked away in the waistband of his pants. That was his only defense, the only thing that he could use to protect himself. It wasn't the actual journal, but the words that were expertly scripted into the pages. Those would save his life. Those would keep him safe.

Managing to pull it from it's hiding place, he didn't bother with readjusting his shirt. Flipping the book open, he searched quickly for something that he could use, anything that could possibly be helpful. Running made it quite difficult to read, but he had quickly found something decent and actually rather perfect; Shakespeare's Sonnet XXV. He began reading, struggling to get the words out and finding his voice cracking occasionally. If he could just get through the fourteen lines then he would most likely make it out of this alive. "Let those who are in favour with their stars...of public honour and proud titles boast...whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars..."

[Morgan]

As Sybil got closer and closer to the mutant she could see how scared he was. Maybe this would be even easier then she thought it would be. She just needed to chase him down and get a hold of him and it would be over. There was no way a small thing like him would be able to escape her deadly grasps. She was so close now, she could reach out and grab him, but she kept her cool. She wouldn't do anything to him in public. She really wasn't sure why they needed to chase after this mutant. It wasn't like he could do any harm to the human race with his small body, but then she remembered the real reason. The mutants needed to be wiped off the face of the planet. They were dangerous. They had killed her parents. They needed to pay.

She felt a great anger rise up inside of her as she finally reached him. She was taller then him, which was some how not surprising due to his size and because Sybil was tall for a girl. He brushed passed her, excusing himself, but he was no where near excused. No mutant would ever be excused for killing her parents. They all needed to die, to pay for what they had done to her once perfect life. She wouldn't stop until each and every mutant was a lifeless body at her revengeful hands. Sybil had lost track of how many mutants she had captured, tortured, and killed. It was likely to be a very high number due to her blood thirsty mind when it came to killing mutants.

The boy was out the door now and running. There was no way she could let him get away now, not when she was this angry. She needed to punch something, to hurt something, even kill something. That was her remedy, causing pain to people. As much as she hated doing it at some points, it needed to be done. She couldn't just keep all this anger inside of her. It needed to be released into the atmosphere. Who knew what would happen if she just kept it in all the time. Sybil didn't even want to think about it. Her life not being an Elite was one she never wanted to think of. Hunting these mutants was the only life she knew. It was the one she lived for. The one she absolutely loved. The rush of a good hunt sent her blood flowing and kept her entertained day after day.

Sybil was out the door now, the cheery bell signaling the start of the chase that would end shortly. She looked down the left side of the sidewalk, looking
for the mutant, but she didn't see him. Looking down the right side, she saw a small figure frantically running down the sidewalk. She wasted no time going after him. She would not let him get away. Not after these four longs days of finding absolutely nothing. She had finally found him and he was not walking away free when it was over. Sybil's legs were long, giving her a very big and unfair advantage. It would only be moments before she had her hands around his neck.

Sybil was running extraordinarily fast down the side walk. The morning sun was beaming down brightly on her, causing her eyes to squint. The streets were significantly busier from the time before she was in the coffee shop. Occasionally she would lose the small boy in the crowd, but then find him once again in only a few seconds. She had to weave in and out of the pedestrians, sometimes shoving a few of them to the side. She was only a few feet away from him and could practically smell the fear trailing behind him. She watched him, fumbling around for a book on his hip as she ran after him.

Sybil was unsure why he had pulled out a book. How was that possibly going to protect him? What was he going to do, throw it at her? Every single thing he did seemed to puzzle her more and more. He began flipping through the pages and began reading. What in the world was he doing? Who reads and runs at the same time? Unbelievably weird people. With each word that breathlessly came out of his body, Sybil got even closer. So close that she reached her long arm out and grabbed onto the back of his shirt. Yanking him back, she slowed down. Hopefully the fabric would hold and not tear away as she pulled on it, stopping him from running any where else. While her left hand was entangled in his shirt, her other was at her hip, grasping the butt of her handgun. "Don't move." She said firmly.

[[deleted user]]

Olive ran with all the strength his feeble body possessed. The streets were littered with people now that the day had really started, the early risers now being accompanied by the people who slept in a bit. Oliver just so happened to be a morning person, favoring an early start rather than a late one. It partially had to do with the fact that libraries were one of the first places to open and he loved going when he knew he could avoid contact with people. His body pretty much ran off of the libraries schedule of whatever town he was in, considering how much time he spent there. Most people would view it as unhealthy, but that wasn't quite how he saw it. He felt most in control of his abilities when he was surrounded by the very things that gave him his power. So to him, it was only natural that he would frequent libraries so much.

Pushing past the now constant stream of people on the street, he found that his pace was slowing even more due to all of the pedestrian traffic. Weaving around men and women in an obvious rush, he continued to read from the pages of his journal. His fingers grasped the book desperately as he read, willing the words to come at as quickly as possible, but still clearly and precisely. He'd managed to mess up readings, or read them incorrectly and the end results were never pretty and actually could be quite frightening. So, he did his best to recite the passage accurately. "Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most...Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread...But as the marigold at the sun's eye..." His breathing was ragged, the words taking an increasingly amount of effort to bring forth from his lips.

The fast paced footsteps of his pursuer were gaining on him, closing the cushion of space between them at a startling rate. Turning his head from his reading, he was curious as to who it was chasing him. The least a look at them would do was prepare him for what would happen when they caught up to him because it was quite clear that they would soon enough. His eyes locked onto a quickly moving figure and he was shocked to see that it was none other than the gorgeous girl from the coffee shop. He knew something wasn't right when she'd abandoned her caffeinated beverage. Perhaps that was his inner caffeine addict speaking, but something just hadn't seemed right about that. Why would someone be in a coffee shop if they didn't want coffee? The answer was simple really, because they didn't want coffee.

Tearing his gaze from her stunning features and absolutely lovely complexion, he focused on the fact that she was most likely an a Elite, trying to do something dreadful to him because he'd been born with a mutation. It was something that he hadn't even had control over and it certainly wasn't fair. Returning to the last line he'd read, he continued on with his reading, his stamina obviously lacking in his voice as well as his legs. "And in themselves their pride lies buried...For at a frown they in their glory die..." He was drawing near to the part of the poem that had made him choose it to begin with.

"The painful wa-" Just as he was about to bring to life the great warrior of Shakespeare's twenty fifth sonnet, a hand latched onto the back of his cotton shirt, gagging him and cutting off his speech as he was yanked backwards. A choked sound escaped him instead of the word warrior, as he had intended. He clutched his book to his chest with one hand and reached up to his throat with the other. It had already been bothering him and her abrupt way of stopping him certainly wouldn't help. Could this day get any better?

It was a shame really, the fact that he hadn't been able to animate the mighty and yet mournful warrior spoken about in the passage as being, "famoused for fight" and having "a thousand victories". Surely he could have protected him from the assumed government agent who was after him. True, even a warrior as strong as he had his hamartia, but any help in this situation would have been immensely appreciated. Upon being told not to move, he stilled his entire body. Listening to her seemed like right choice for now. However, when he saw an opportunity for escape, he would surely take it. There was no telling what this girl would do to him and he really didn't want to know. "P-please don't." He stuttered out, his voice cracking harshly from the effort he'd just put into trying to spare himself, ultimately failing in the end.

[Morgan]

Sybil could hear him chanting words from whatever book he was holding. It sounded so familiar, but it was hard to tell what it was through his breathy voice. Her mind suddenly drifted back to the coffee house. When he spoke his order it appeared right in front of him. That was his mutation and a very worthless one at that. How could he protect himself by reading words off a page of a book. It seemed very useless to Sybil. There wasn't any way that he could get out of this by reading. Suddenly a thought crossed her mind. What if he was summoning something from those pages. Something that was unstoppable. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let this horrid mutation walk this earth any longer and that's exactly why she reached forward and made him come to a halt.

She tightened the grip on his shirt, balling it up in her clenched fist while her other hand was prepared to unholster her gun and put a bullet straight through his brain if he didn't cooperate. She wouldn't hesitate to do that. She would actually prefer it. One less mutation to deal with. But she couldn't do it here, not in front of all these innocent people. That wouldn't be fair. She always killed mutations in private areas where no one could see, then rid of the body professionally. She couldn't hurt him here, there were already people staring at them. What a sight it was to see her standing behind this small boy, holding onto him with her hand at a gun. She seemed like the bad guy in this situation, but in her eyes it was the boy that was the bad guy. Other things like him killed her parents and they all needed to pay.

Hearing his weak voice drift through the air to her ears made Sybil tug on his shirt urging him to be quiet. She was thinking. Thinking of where to take him. It needed to be some where private where it was only then two, somewhere nobody could see them. She had memorized almost every building on this street, there had to be an empty one right? "Don't talk." She shushed him. She remembered what his powers were one again. What if he read a random street sign or poster and summoned something. That wouldn't be good and that would surely give away that he was a freak, but if she blind folded or gagged him people would possibly call the police.

For the first time in a long time Sybil was stumped, although she has the perfect place in mind to take him. Somewhere nobody would find or hear them. She sighed, moving her hand away from her gun. She let her arm hand loosely as she looked around at the surrounding area. A little farther ahead she could see an alley way. Maybe that would lead to where she needed to head. Hopefully. All she knew was that they needed to get out of this crowd, before people got suspicious or this mutant spoke up to the people around him, telling them that she was trying to hurt him or she had a weapon.

Shoving him forward slightly, she made him walk up the street until they reached the alley way. Turning right, they stepped into the darkness. Sybil's hand was still clenched around the back of his shirt, not letting him run. Once they were far enough in where they were hidden from the crowd, she pushed his small body against the brick wall and kicked his feet apart. "If you have any weapons on you I'll kill you with them." She said into his ear as she bent down to began frisking him. She started with his right leg and slowly went up, checking everywhere for any possible spot to hide a weapon. She sort of hoped he did, that way she had a new toy to torture him with. Finding nothing on his right leg, Sybil moved to his left leg. She patted all the way up to his upper thigh and then moved both hand on either side of his hips.

She didn't enjoy it, nor did she find anything so far and she was highly disappointed. Moving up his stomach, her hand sprawled out, searching around. As they made it up to his chest, she felt the smooth binding of the book that he still held closely to his body. Sybil was debating whether or not she should take it. If he was blind folded her couldn't read it, if he was gagged he couldn't speak the words, and if the book was taken away he wouldn't be able to do either. Her hand were clenched around the binding of his journal as the front of her body pressed against his back when she started to pull on it. "Let me have it." She told him briskly.

[[deleted user]]

The possibilities of what this dangerous beauty planned to do to him were endless. Was she going to just kill him quickly without leaving any evidence or would she take her time and make him suffer? Did she even want to kill him or did she want to toy with him, cause him pain and watch him cry? He knew the thoughts were extremely cruel but that's what the Elites were; cruelty in the form of a human. He felt her grip on him tighten and he knew that she wasn't going to give up and just let him go. It was a hope he had entertained for about two seconds before she squashed it with her intimidating hold on the back of his shirt. There was no way to break free, seeing as he was afraid she would tackle him or something dreadful that would cause pain.

People were starting to stare but he kept his mouth shut. These people wouldn't help him anyway. They would defend their own; the woman, the normal human. Things were looking pretty bleak for him and he wished in that moment that he would have stayed with his parents, no matter how much of an outcast he was back in Georgia, he would have at least been a living outcast. It was obvious that she noticed the odd looks they were getting from the people around them because soon enough she was shushing him and forcing him to move forward. Where they were heading, he had no idea, but something told him that she wanted to get away from the crowds that had formed on the newly busy streets. So, when she took him down an alley he almost had a panic attack.

Being alone with her certainly wasn't something that he wanted. She was going to do something to him that she didn't want people to see and that couldn't be good. After walking for a bit, the people on the streets couldn't be seen anymore and he knew what that meant. He couldn't be seen by the people on the streets either. He swallowed hard, feeling a deep dread rise up inside of him. He was shoved against the rough bricks that made up the wall of the alley and a small cry escaped him and his eyes widened when she kicked his legs apart. What on earth was she doing?

He felt her hot breath against his ear and he froze in place. She was threatening him, but that wasn't what made him go statue still. It was her proximity. Then, she did something that made him pale. He felt her hands traveling up his legs, gliding over his hips and his stomach. Girls didn't touch him. It was just something that didn't happen. So as her hands continued to make their way up his body, a fiery blush rose up on his sickly pale skin. She'd made it clear that she was just searching him for weapons but he still found that he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't focus on anything except for her hands on him.

Thinking back to all of his experiences with girls, he remembered nothing but rejection and heartbreak. He was the kind of little boy who picked flowers for the girls that he liked, but they always ran away and claimed that he had cooties. Things hadn't gotten better as he got older, middle school and high school producing the same outcome but without the hand picked daisies. He'd tried writing poetry for his crushes, passing them notes so that he would have to speak but they never responded well. Whether they just didn't like him or if they were thrown off by his seemingly weak personality, he felt like he'd never know. It was pretty obvious though that he wasn't what girls would consider boyfriend material. He wasn't strong and he didn't play sports. He was a premature baby for Pete's sake. Weakness radiated from him and he imagined that every girl in the universe could sense it and that's why they stayed away.

In truth, he was very well aware of how to treat a woman but he was never given the chance and this didn't know how to speak or act whenever they were close to him. Her hands made it to his chest and he was completely stunned. His breathing was quick, making him feel light headed because he couldn't force the oxygen into his lungs fast enough. His heart rate was exceedingly high and when she grabbed his book, it only went higher. She demanded it from him, pressing her body to his as she tried pulling it from his grasp. "N-n-no." He stuttered out, trying to pull it back from her. It was the only defense that he had and he couldn't just let her take it from him!

Her body's heat was a major distraction, making him feel weak in the knees. The physical contact was almost overwhelming and he felt like he was going to pass out. He gripped the book with his frail, page turning, fingers and held onto like it was his lifeline. Really, it was. He couldn't let her take his journal. It would leave him absolutely defenseless, as if he wasn't already! His wrist was being pressed hard into the bricked wall, causing him quite a lot of pain. Whimpers escaped him and suddenly, an idea came to his mind. The book could be lost if he made it out. With that plan in mind, he released the book, most likely surprising her and giving him a moments opportunity. He took it, attempting an escape. He fell painfully to his side, managing to get to his hands and knees and crawling away from the woman who meant him harm. It was the best he could do considering the circumstances.

[Morgan]

Sybil was very disappointed that she was having no luck finding a weapon, but just look at him. Why would he even carry one? He probably wouldn't even know the sharp side of a knife from a dull one, let alone know how to use one against an attacker. It was actually kind of humorous how scrawny this boy was. Most muntants Sybil ran into were strong powerful, and knew how to use their powers, unlike the one that stood in front of her. Normal muntants could hold their own against the Elites and she began to wonder what happened to this one. It seemed to her like he didn't practice his powers enough, he didn't train his body to become strong, and he didn't get any sunlight due to his pale complexion.

As Sybil grabbed onto his book, he pulled against her but it was useless. There was no way he could stand against her. She was going to pry this book out of his hands whether he liked it or not. She was wondering to herself why he wanted to hold onto this book so badly, like it was something too important for her to take. She remembered him reading out of it, but what? What was written in this book that he needed it? Whatever it was the book would soon be hers and he would no longer have it on his possession and he wouldn't be able to read any words from it again. Nothing from this book would ever appear into the real world anymore. His chances of any survival would diminish as soon as she had his journal.

Suddenly, something happened that completley shocked Sybil. As she was pulling at the book, with him pulling opposite, he let go. The book flew up with Sybil's hands still around it. She stumbled back, grasping it tighter in her hands, trying not to lose it. Confusion was the first thing that hit her. She wasn't sure why he had put up that much of a fight and then released, giving up. Maybe the book really wasn't that important to him. Running a hand through her long blonde locks, she moved it out of her face so she could see the book better. She noticed that it really wasn't a book. It was more of a journal. Maybe it was his diary. When that thought crossed her mind she chuckled to herself lightly. He seemed like that type of boy to own a diary, but who reads out of their diary as they run down the street. Everything was so confusing to Sybil, nothing made any sense.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sybil saw something moving around. Turning her attention away from the journal, she looked to see what it was and it was none other then the mutant itself. That's when it all fell into place. He did that in attempts to escape, only it was far from working. He would have to try even harder then that if he was going to get away from Sybil. She was not easily tricked. Tucking the book under her arm, she walked over to him. At the moment he was crawling away, trying to escape, but he was far too loud and slow. She stepped in from of him and squatted down so that she was face to face with him. Sybil reached her hand out an firmly grabbed his soft chin. "Nice try." She smirked at him.

A thought crossed her mind quickly. Her first chance to torture him. It wasn't too extreme, but it would surely get under his skin. It was a good plan. A very good one. It was a great way to start off his torture session before she killed him. "Let's play a little game." She smiled at him sweetly, showing her beautifully white teeth. She let go of his chin, knowing that he would surely look at what she was about to do. Taking the journal out from under her she waved it front of his face. "You don't have a choice whether or not to play it, so you might as well enjoy. The game is called: Behave." She told him. "The first rule is be quiet. The second one is no using your worthless powers. The third is cooperate." She gave him the rules. "Now if you break these rules this is what will happen." When she finished she flipped to a random page on his journal and quickly tore it out, letting it fall to the alley floor. "Sounds fun right?" She said, slamming the journal.

The rules sounded fair enough to her. If he didn't behave a page of his journal was ripped out. If it really meant that much to him he would be a good little mutant. She was still squatted down in front of him, watching his reaction play out, loving every moment of it. This was Sybil's life, torturing these monsters that killed her parents. They all deserved to die. To pay for what they did to her. Sybil kind of hoped that he would misbehave again and try to escape because she had no problem ripping out page after page his little diary until there were none left. Then she would just find a new way to torture him. Something more torturous then this.

[[deleted user]]

Oliver had seen plenty of daring escapes in movies growing up, but the real thing wasn't anything like how they portrayed it in the films. On screen, the plans were always full proof, well thought out and were completed with seemingly no effort. His attempt though, was far from that. The first mistake he made was falling over. Tripping over his feet wasn't really the best way to start off the plan that could possibly save his life. His next mistake was not getting back on his feet. The gravel dug uncomfortably into his soft palms and knees, slowing him down and causing him to lose the small amount of time he had gained. It was a pitiful attempt at freedom really, but it was the best he could manage with his anxiety through the roof and his weary body running on fumes. He still hadn't eaten anything in hours and his energy levels were suffering because of it.

He hadn't even made it halfway down the secluded alley when a pair of long legs appeared in front of him. With a gulp and a hanging of his head, he knew that he'd been caught in mid-escape. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would tolerate such an action and he cringed away from her a bit, thinking that she was going to hit him or duel out some kind of physical punishment. Staring down at the pavement with his eyes squeezed shut, he waited. However, nothing that he had expected ever came. He felt her grab his chin and tilt his head up. Her fingers pressed against his delicate skin firmly and he felt like he was going to die, not from her impending attack but simply from her touch.

It was one thing when she was touching his body, but his face? That was a whole new ballpark. He'd always been a sensitive person, highly receptive to pain, temperature and his environments. His face however, was the most sensitive part of him and as she forced him to look upwards it was difficult for him to handle it. He peeked one of his amber eyes open, then the other as he heard her sarcastic tone, catching a glimpse of her smirk before it turned into a lovely smile as she suggested that they play a game. He knew that her idea of a game probably wasn't the same as his, which consisted of Scrabble or Pictionary. He got distracted though, her beautifully white smile charming and glamorous. If they weren't under such circumstances he may have even worked up the nerve to compliment her. Maybe...

Her warm hand was pulled back, however his gaze didn't waver. He stared up into her sparkling blue eyes, his own wide and full of terror. He saw her hand move in his peripherals, reaching to grab something that was tucked away beneath her arm. At first, he thought it was a gun or a knife and fear pricked his chest. Was that the game? Kill Oliver in the alley? No, it was his book. Seeing it waved in his face only caused him heartache, longing to have it nestled against his back. He missed that familiar feeling, currently feeling like he'd lost a piece of himself along with his journal. He'd carried it around for three years now, growing an attatchment to the thin pages and leather binding that he loved so much. He'd purchased it when he was fifteen, right after he'd discovered the basic idea of his abilities.

She started explaining the game, giving it the name Behave. He didn't like where this was going, but he listened intently because like she'd stated, he didn't have a choice whether to play or not. The rules were quite simple. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut, refrain from reading anything aloud and be cooperative. He wondered what exactly he would have to be cooperative for, but he didn't question it. Surely it would be something terrible and he imagined it would be better if it was a surprise. If he knew what it was then he would only dwell on it, waiting for it to happen. A surprise would avoid that dreadful waiting and thinking process.

After she completed listing the rules, she went on to discuss what the punishment would be for disobedience. His heart was in his stomach simply by the time she finished her sentence, but what she did next destroyed him entirely. The sound of ripping paper was similar to the sound of nails on a chalkboard to Oliver. It was a horrendous sound and as it rang through the alleyway, tears sprung into his eyes. She tore one of the precious pages from his journal and he watched as she let it drift to the ground. His eyes followed it all the way down and when it hit the ground, a choked sob escaped him. He'd spent years filling the pages with beautiful pieces of literature, devoting hours upon hours to the task.

He quickly scrambled for the paper, tears streaming down his face as he gathered the precious sheet in his hands. The Snowfall Is So Silent by Miguel de Unamuno was scripted in Ollie's usual loopy cursive on the cream colored paper. Even though his heart was now shattered into thousands of pieces, he managed to read the page in a last ditch effort to get away from her. If he didn't, then his poor journal wouldn't survive! "The snowfall is so silent, so slow, bit by bit, with delicacy it settles down...." As soon as the words had escaped his lips, small snowflakes formed above them and began to fall slowly. It wasn't unnatural for snow to fall this time of year in Colorado, but this snow was no ordinary snow. It had come from the pages of his journal. He knew that by doing this, he was breaking all three of the rules he'd been given, but perhaps she would get distracted and he could get away. Either that or she would get extremely angry, seeing as he hadn't been quiet, he hadn't refrained from using his powers and he certainly wasn't cooperating. The beautiful little flurries got in his hair, dusting it white and a chill went through him as a small gust of wind whipped through the alley, sending the snow dancing across the pavement.

[Morgan]

This mutant's attempt at an escape was by far the worst Sybil had ever seen, and she had seen quite a few. He didn't know the first thing to escaping and she could tell by the way he was still crawling across the ground, but she had caught him and was now punishing him for it. His reaction was priceless. It was hysterical to see him cry, and she knew for a fact that it wouldn't be the last time either. The tears started as soon as the page was torn. It wa amazing that he was so attached to this useless paper. She was excited to torture him even more as the minutes ticked on by.

In his crying, the boy reached forward and took the turn page off the ground and began reading instantly. Sybil stretched forward in attempts to take it from him, but it was too late. He had already finished. What had he just read? What had he just summoned out of that book? Suddenly she saw little white flakes falling through the air. It wa snowing and what he had read made it snow, even though it wa completely normal for it to snow on Colorado. His powers were strange to Sybil they weren't exactly powerful, but they had some use. Maybe if she decided to keep him alive she could use it to her advantage.

The snow didn't distract Sybil one bit. It add her excitement grow actually. This boy had just broken three rules. That was three more pages. The snow was beautiful of course, but she had seen it far too many times for it to get her attention long enough for him to escape. "Man, you're bad at this whole escaping thing." She laughed slightly, giving him another nice smile. Reaching forward, she took the torn page out of his hands and into hers. Then she shredded it into tiny little pieces, unable to read. She kept ever single piece in her hand as she looked at the boy. "You really need to try harder then that." She said, throwing the pieces of his precious paper into his face.

"Oh, and you broke three rules." She pointed out to him. "Such a shame. I thought maybe you'd go a little longer before I had to rip more out, and three of them at that. I wanted this game to last longer." She said, giving him a little frowny face before opening his journal back up and turning to yet another random page, the time taking three pages and ripping them out. She crumpled the three of them up and threw them into the dark alley way. "I told you to behave and you're not doing a very good job at it."

Standing up in front of him, she brushed off her clothing from any dirt. Then she simply took off her gray jacket, revealing to sharp, gleaming sword sheathed on her back. She went back over to the mutant and stood behind him. She put the jacket in front of his eyes and tied a tight knot at the back of his head. "Just in case." She said and moved to the front of him. Once she was there she lifted him up by his forearm and inspected his blindfold to make sure he couldn't see anything. "This is what happens when you don't listen." She shunned him. "I have you the rules and everything and yet you still felt the need to her away. It wasn't even a good plan." She shook her head at him, knowing her couldn't see. "If you were trying to distract me you should've done something besides snow."

[Morgan]

((Sorry it's short.......))

[[deleted user]]

Oliver knew it was another sad attempt at escaping. However, his mind and body weren't used to these high risk circumstances. If this girl was, as he suspected, an Elite, then he was toast. There was no way his fragile little body could compete against hers'. Losing to a girl was one thing, he could handle that, but being kidnapped by one? That was something absolutely terrifying to him. Just the thought of what she planned to do to him was enough to make him shake in his boots. Well, his converses. When he'd first seen her in the coffee shop, he was mesmerized by her beauty but now....he was completely afraid of it. He'd always heard that there was danger in beauty, but he'd never understood it until now. She was beautiful and dangerous, and he wasn't sure what she had in store for him.

He wondered for a moment what exactly an Elite would want with a mutant like him. His powers were still a bit sketchy, and he didn't have a full understanding of them. He couldn't even order something at a little coffee shop without giving himself away. A normal life and a low profile seemed absolutely impossible at this point. To most people, his powers would seem completely useless, a waste of the mutant gene, but he knew better. He knew that whatever was inscribed upon a page could be manipulated, and depending upon the passage, that could be very dangerous. Perhaps she saw that too and that's why she was so bent on chasing him and capturing him. No matter the reason, he didn't like it one bit.

He watched the snow fall around them, actually getting distracted himself. It was absolutely beautiful and exactly like he had imagined it would be when he'd read the poem. It was such a light and bright snow. It seemed so pure, untainted by any source of defilement. It was magnificent and any attempts at running were out the window. A few flakes fell into his big brown eyes and he wiped them away, only to gaze back up at the frozen beauties that were falling from the heavens. He was only pulled from his trance when she spoke again, his eyes flitting to meet hers in enough time to catch the dazzling smile that she flashed his way. It seemed so genuine that he actually felt like returning it, but he knew that there was malice hidden behind those stunning pearly whites.

The paper was snatched from his hands as she pointed out how terrible his escape attempts had been, as if he didn't already know. He watched as it was shredded into tiny little bits and then tossed into his face. His nose and cheeks already pinkening from the extreme temperature drop, her act had caused his entire face to turn scarlet. She not only broke his heart, but she embarrassed him far more than she would ever know. It seemed as if in that one act, she was proving her dominance over him and it made him feel very small. Very small indeed. He took her advice, knowing that his next attempted get-away was going to be well thought out, planned. He was going to make her see just how cunning he could be.

The next thing she did didn't surprise him at all. When he'd read that wintry poem, he knew what he was getting himself into. Her words, combined with the horrendous sound of tearing paper, he felt the warm tears flowing down his face again. "Sto-" He started, but didn't finish, cringing as she crumpled the beautiful pages and threw them across the alley. Didn't she know how to treat literature? She'd just broken almost every rule! Don't ever tear the pages and you never ever crinkle them. He was absolutely stunned, unable to move with his jaw having dropped ever so slightly. This was unbelievable, completely unacceptable. He had to get his book back! Before it was too late! Her words were cruel and taunting, making his stomach feel as if he'd just ingested curdled milk. Her words were dripping like honey from her perfect lips, honey laced with poison.

She stood up and he felt like he couldn't move and he didn't. He didn't look up at her until he heard the rustling of fabric. What was she doing? He watched as her gray jacket was slipped from her shoulders where it had been draped ever so innocently. However, her use for the jacket was far from innocent. It was quickly tied around his eyes, leaving him devoid of one of his major senses. Sight. Without being able to see, he couldn't read and as he heard her speaking again, he realized that was exactly what she wanted. He was pulled to his feet, unable to see a thing at all besides the expertly woven cotton of her coat. His last images flashed through his mind and what he'd seen wasn't pretty. She had a sword. Who on earth carried around a sword? If he wasn't scared before, he certainly was now.

Ollie heard her berating, feeling like a child who had gotten into trouble. Really though, that's exactly what this felt like. If you were trying to distract me you should've done something besides snow. That was it. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, he felt the warm prickle of anger in his chest. It was quite a sight to see when Ollie got angry and boy, she was in for a show. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails leaving crescent shaped imprints on his delicate skin. "Maybe if you would have ripped me out a better page!" He snapped back at her, his accent flaring as he did his best to express his anger. Ollie didn't get mad easily, but she'd done so much to him already. He just felt like she was pushing him, like she wanted a reaction and if that's what she wanted, then that's what she would get.

[Morgan]

Sybil wasn't sure as to why he would ever think that snow would distract her. They were in Colorado. It snowed a lot, but at least he tried. Plus it gave her a reason to rip out more pages of his little diary he was so fond of. This was probably the most amusing torture she had ever done. There happened to be a lot of pages in this journal so he had a lot of chances to mess up, but once all the pages were gone there was something far more horrid in store for this poor fragile boy. Sybil was going to have a lot of fun slowly killing this mutant. Putting him through all kinds of unimaginable pain was the part that excited her the most. His reaction to her ripping his pages out made her want to tear them out one by one right now on front of him, but then she would be breaking the rules of the game and that wouldn't be good.

When Sybil had first seen him in the coffee house she didn't think anything of him. He was small, worthless, and looked like he couldn't kill a fly to save his life and he still did. Only now she knew he had powers. He was a mutant and all mutants needed to die. They had killed the most precious thing in the world to her and they all needed to pay for it. Every last one of them. Sybil wasn't going to stop until she knew there wasn't a single mutant walking earth again. She didn't capture him because she thought his powers were a danger. She captured him because he was plainly a mutant. Powers or no powers, he was weak and couldn't escape from her graps no matter how hard he tried.

The snow kept falling all around them. Big fluffy flakes getting caught in Sybil's long blonde hair. The snow was getting heavier by the second and soon enough the gravel ground of the alley way would be covered. Sybil had no time to sit a stare at it. She didn't think it was pretty one bit. It was snow. That was all. She wasn't quite sure why everyone loved it so much and thought it was so beautiful. It was cold and white. What was beautiful about that? Maybe if this boy had a different Elite capture him he might have escaped by now, but not with Sybil. She wasn't going to let this mutant out of her sight. Not after she finally got her hands on him.

As Sybil slide out of her gray jacket, goosebumps quickly formed on her arms as the cold flakes landed on her fair skin. A chill went through her body and she really wanted to put the jacket back on, but she couldn't. She needed to keep this mutant from using his powers and she was going to stop at nothing to prevent it from happening. She felt the familiar weight of her sword against her back as she moved around. If he tried anything to crazy she wasn't going to hesitate to chop his head right off. No. She wouldn't do that. That wouldn't be any fun. She'd start with his fingers. One by one. Then she would move to his toes and cut him limb from limb, and put him in the worst pain of his life. The thought of that made her heart race with excitement. She could only imagine how much she would enjoy his screams.

Sybil tied the her jacket tightly around his head, making sure there wasn't any more room to tighten it. She doubled knotted it so that it would be extremely hard to untie if he actually had enough guts to try. They were close to where she wanted to take him and she just couldn't wait to get there. To torture him even more. A lot more then just ripping out these worthless pages from his diary. It was going to be the perfect location. Nobody would ever hear him. Nobody would ever see him. Nobody would ever know anyone was in there. There wasn't going to be any hope for this boy. Her smiling face would be the last thing he saw before she put his life to an end.

As she was teasing him with her venomous words, he spoke. It wasn't worth the pain. Him mouthing back to her wasn't going to be worth the pain he was about the recieve for it. Sybil began to laugh and real, genuine laugh. What he said was funny and sort of true. If she had ripped our a different page who knew what he would've brought to life from the pages. Her laughing died down a bit and she began to talk. "You're a mouthy one I see." She smiled, although he couldn't see anything now. "It's going to be fun hearing you scream." She said, imagining how wonderful that would sound. "What if I just cut your tongue right off." She suggested. "Then you wouldn't be able to talk back to me." That idea sounded great to her. Cut off his tongue and he wouldnt be able talk back. "Oh I almost forgot!" She said, pulling out the journal again and flipping to a random page and ripping it out. "Don't speak to me that way." She said in a much firmer, lower voice before pushing him forward to walk after letting the torn page glide down to the snowy ground.

[[deleted user]]

Today did not turn out how Oliver had been planning for them to. He was supposed to have made it to a safe haven, a utopia for people like him. It was something he'd dreamed about since he'd discovered his powers and he still wished he could have made it. However, he was stopped by a dangerous beauty, a girl with more power inside of her than even he had and she was just a normal human. It was quite frightening really, but Olive was already a pretty anxious person. He jumped at just about anything; loud noises, people's touch, someone suddenly talking to him. If his face was paired in the dictionary with a word, that word would be paranoid. Anything and everything scared Ollie and he found it mostly as a setback, keeping him from doing a lot of things he desired to do simply out of fear. It was something he'd been working on for a long time, but now, meeting this girl, had destroyed any progress he'd made. He was so scared, like deathly scared, of her.

The snow continued to swirl around them, but Oliver knew that it would be over soon. With the page torn to shreds, the animation wouldn't last long without the parchment it'd been scripted on. In fact, after she got her jacket tied tightly around his face, he could no longer feel the snowflakes falling from the sky. What he'd brought to life from the poem was falling apart, just as he page had as she ripped it to pieces. He missed it honestly, the snow. It was just lovely and he had wished he could have made it last longer but oh well. He had more important things to deal with anyway, like getting away from the sexy lunatic that wanted to kill him. Yeah, that was probably where his focus should have been, not on crystallized precipitation.

No longer able to see, he wasn't quite sure whether he was looking at her or not when he mouthed off but that didn't matter. He'd already said what he wanted to and she would duel out whatever punishment she deemed worthy for his smart comments. He cringed slightly, expecting her to hit him or something, as would seem appropriate for an elite such as herself. However, that never came, but what did come sent a chill up his spine. She simply laughed. That was definitely not a good thing, at all. When she finally stopped laughing, after what seemed like an eternity, she referred to him as a "mouthy one". That wasn't entirely true but he just let it slide, not really caring what she thought of him. The next thing she did confirmed her insanity in his mind. It's going to be fun hearing you scream. Bile rose up in his throat and his stomach was doing flips after that but he stayed perfectly still, not moving. He had gone rigid, her threat doing exactly what it was supposed to, scare him.

The offer she gave to him was anything but appealing. She offered to cut his tongue off. Clenching his teeth tightly, he swallowed hard and stayed silent, trying not to shake as much as he could. Only trembling slightly, he simply said one thing after she stated that he wouldn't be able to talk back to her. "I scream like a girl. If you do it, I'll scream and someone would hear me. I could scream right now." He threatened, considering doing that so that someone would come for him. However, there was one thing standing in the way. What if she used that sword on him before anyone could reach him? "O-or you could just take me somewhere quiet." He suggested quickly, possibly taking a cautious step back from her but really he had taken a step closer.

When she announced that she had forgotten something, Oliver really didn't care to know what it was. However, when he heard the familiar flipping of the pages of his journal, his heart sank again. Before long he wouldn't have any pages left at all! Choking back tears as that torturous sound filled his ears again, he bit his lip and fidgeted, trying not to do something stupid that would only get him into even more trouble. He may be a lot of things, fragile, weak, squeamish, easily frightened and intimidated, but he was not stupid. Her command was adhered immediately with a nod and before he could even think, she was pushing him forward, forcing him to walk. "Hey!" He exclaimed. "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" His questions came out broken up due to his throat pain flaring up after talking so much and which such stress on his vocal cords.

[Morgan]

The beautiful white crystals had finished falling gently from the sky, but remnece of the very thin layer it left on the gravel let off a coolness, keeping the goosebumps on Sybil's arms. She wasn't paying attention the the coolness. She was laying attention to the fragile mutant that stood in front of her and dared to mouth off, or in his case speak at all seeing how frightened he was of her. The thought of something, or someone, being scared of Sybil made her bubbly inside, given her warm feeling like she was doing what she was meant to do and that really what she was doing. From a very young age she was forced to defend for herself, left with nothing but hatred for mutants. Without her drive and passion for revenge for her lost loved ones she would be nothing. Just another person with no purpose.

With every passing second, Sybil could see how truly scared this boy was. It seemed as though he was finally realizing that now that he was in her grasps, there was no escape for his torturous future. It all just intensified her passion for hurting him. This was what she lived for, this pain filled darkness. She thought back to all the other hunts she had recently been on. All of those mutants defended themselves against Sybil, fighting for their lives with all their strength. Some were worthy opponents, but some fell quickly to Sybil's might. All of those mutants were everything compared to this weak thing on front of her. As they had knives, guns, and any other weapon they could get ahold of, he had a book and horrible escape plans, and yet this was the most fun Sybil was having in a very long time.

Sybil was absolutely intrigued by him. He had guts that was for sure and she easily guess he had brains, but muscles? No. Far from it. For him he didn't need the muscles, he had the brains and guts. Even though he was in a dark alley, blind folded, with a dangerous killer standing only a foot away from him, he still had the bravery to speak up and talk back. It surprised Sybil, which was part of the reason she didn't punish him much, although tilling pages from his book was probably the worst thing he had ever experienced. Just wait until the real torture began. If tearing out a simple piece of paper caused him the flinch and cringe so badly and cry, then just imagine what he was going to react to real torture. The same torture that Sybil preformed on more sturdy, capable mutants. Ones that didn't break so easily.

Getting tired of just standing in the alley, Sybil wanted to go. She wanted to reach her place of destination and show this mutant what real pain felt left. Just like the pain she felt when his kind murdered her family. They were all bad. They all needed to die, to leave this earth for good. They were still standing there, face to face. Well, jacket to face. Sybil couldn't see any of his face due to her gray jacket tied tightly around his head to keep him from using his worthless powers. The scrawny boy began speaking once again, causing the corner of Sybil's lip to raise up into a smirk. He just didn't know when to be quiet. It was going to cost him. Everything he did wrong would face a consequence and that was something he hadnt figured out yet. He said he was going to scream which didn't surprise her at all. In fact, she was more surprised that he hadnt yet. She knew deep down that he was lying. He would never do that. He was brave, but not that brave. He was simply just trying to threaten her, but his wavering voice had no effect on her.

Suddenly he studdered out more words, quickly trying to correct what he previously said, but it didn't work. As he spoke he took a quick step forward, making Sybil rather confused, but she quickly recovered, putting a smile on her face as always. "Oh sweetie." She began, putting two fingers under his chin. "No one will ever hear you, scream as loud as you want and no one will come to see if you're okay because nobody cares about a frail little boy like you." As soon as she finished she dropped his chin and took a slight step away from him, feeling the familiar heaviness of her handguns she cared so much for and was so tempted to use them right now, but she settled for the game. She took out the book and ripped another page out, then let it drift down to the now melted snow.

When shel lost her patience with him, pushing him forward, she wast expecting him to recover so quickly and talk back once again. What was his problem? If his little book was so precious to him then he would behave like he was supposed to instead is being so impossible. The questions he asked were pointless. He already knew. She already told him. "Somewhere where the police won't find your body until years later." He told him with a strange happiness in her voice. "So lets get going." She said, getting excited all over again. Taking his hand in hers firmly, she began walking farther into the darkness, farther away from everything he ever knew, and closer to the most fun Sybil planned on having.