~Daylight, the end of the mall~
The villain was now gone, leaving the hero wounded on top of the building and a worried officer looking up at him. The blonde man yelled up at him, his words echoing off the decaying, crystalized walls, missing the hero's ears.
Oxzy stayed in his same position, his mind and eyes alert for movements around him. He knew the villain could still pop up from anywhere and do more damage; he had done it before. Only, nothing but the sizzling from the extinguished fire and shouts coming from Milo could be heard.
Oxzy's heart calmed down a few beats, and he kept his stance hard even as his ribs began to sting again. His body ached, and Oxzy could already see a bruise starting to form. But the hero shook the thought away, his senses high, and put the shouts he heard into focus.
Thinking the sheriff might need help, Oxzy leaped from the building to the ground, shocking the man in uniform when he landed next to him. Milo stepped back, but when he realized it was the hero, high on alert, he put his hands up.
"It's just me now," he said calmly, walking over to Oxzy, whom he could see shaking slightly. Milo found himself needing to comfort him—the hero was stressed after the fight—and the officer had strange urges running through his mind. He put his thoughts into action.
As gently as he could, he put his hand on the hero's shoulder. The man beneath the hand flinched, looking at the sheriff, their eyes leveled. "I've got people to evacuate. Everyone who was injured is in the clinic, and the police are coming to clean up this... this mess Pierce made."
Oxzy's body slowly relaxed, though the comforting words confused him more than they soothed him. The sheriff was acting differently. He usually made the hero clean up after the villain whenever they fought, no matter what, since the blame fell on him.
Now, after the sheriff had seen him wounded and fighting the villain, and had even helped Oxzy, Milo was treating him differently—and acting differently himself. It was as if a light had switched on behind his eyes.
He saw Oxzy differently now.
Oxzy probably wouldn't even notice, since he didn't care, but it did make Milo's job slightly easier if the police helped him under Milo's orders. All the hero could do was nod, saying nothing as Milo said all that needed to be said.
The sirens sounded closer as they approached. The hero shifted out of the officer's touch, making Milo fight back a rising emotion. Oxzy looked at the destruction around him; it lay mostly behind him, where the villain had made his mark.
Even though the station would clean it up, the hero felt more responsible for the mess, since the ice and bent trees were his doing.
The curly-haired man spread his arms toward the trees, and with a calming breath, the trees moved back into their normal position all at once. Oxzy then turned his attention to the ice, which was already starting to melt. He breathed deeply again, his hands burning from the invisible weight as he drew in the solid energy, and slowly, it began to melt and disappear.
It turned to liquid within seconds, and the hero's arms dropped with relief once it did. With hard breaths and a sweaty face, he tucked his arms to himself as they began to burn. The officer took notice of the hero's actions, watching the man close in on himself, wanting to do more than simply touch his shoulder. The hero was about ready to leave when the flashing lights came into view.
Sucking in a shaky breath, Milo spoke up. "I can take you to Parrway, if you like, Oxzy?" The man in question turned at the use of his name, his silent demeanor giving way to a questioning look. "I brought you all the way to Oakway, to Daylight. So... I can take you halfway home. You seem tired."
"I don't need a ride," Oxzy replied coldly, swiftly turning away from Milo and stalking off toward Parrway. Milo caught sight of the man limping, dragging his feet behind him in obvious pain. Milo gulped, moving closer to the man, about to speak.
Just as his hand came within a few inches of him, Oxzy jumped up, a strong, quick wind lifting him away. It kept Milo grounded but carried the hero off his feet and into the air. The cold air blew around Milo, and he clutched himself before looking back at the hero.
But he was already gone.
~The Grubs, Pierce's home~
The man slumped onto the brown, ripped couch. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he put his hand over his eyes and screamed internally. The anger rising in him was hot and fast, striking his head like a blazing bullet.
The sheriff had once again ruined his fun, taking away his chance to play with Oxzy for as long as he wanted. Now he was back at home, boredom seeping right into his veins.
The boredom shifted when a loud figure waltzed in. With her baggy, ripped black jeans littered with chains and an equally ripped jacket, Mercy came in and plopped right next to the man. He made no move to greet the intruder.
Seeing her friend in an angry frenzy, Mercy rolled her eyes. She propped her heels on the sofa, knees up, and dug into her purse for something. When she found it, a foul smell filled the room. The smell caught Pierce off guard, striking him with a sense of familiarity. Looking at the woman, already quite stoned, Pierce smirked.
"Already fucked?" He laughed.
"You look more fucked than me," she retorted, leaning into the sofa and facing the non-existent TV. "What happened? Got bored and played until your dick ran dry?"
"More or less," the man responded sarcastically, earning a hum from Mercy. "That damn blonde interrupted again."
"Oh, the boring sheriff?" Mercy asked. Pierce nodded, not even looking up. "That man's a fucking buzzkill. I wouldn't be surprised if he started liking the hero more than he should. They're both boring."
"Wait," Pierce turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. "Like? Since when did the sheriff take an interest in Oxzy, of all people? He hates the hero."
"It's obvious he dislikes Oxzy a whole bunch," Mercy responded, but she kept going. "Only now, he seems to be everywhere he is. Like today—he was in Daylight, where Oxzy was, right?"
"Right..." Pierce shook his head. He didn't want to believe it, yet Mercy seemed almost right. The thought needled at him as he considered the interest Milo had in Oxzy—whether the two were growing closer.
"You're burning." Mercy's voice cut through, and Pierce caught on. Looking at his arms, he saw his skin flushing red, his shirt beginning to smolder with light smoke rising from it. "You can't be that serious about this. I mean, Milo's gonna get mad at him over something you caused, and poof—no more friends for Oxzy."
Seems about right. Pierce watched as the woman on his sofa exhaled smoke from her mouth. She closed her eyes in relaxation, leaning onto the sofa with a mouth full of numbness. The villain noticed her drift off, her face smoldering against the cushions as no response followed.
The villain felt himself brimming with too much energy—he could take a hit and pass right out. Only, he didn't feel like it. He had too many emotions right now, and that was dangerous, both for him and for everyone around him.
He climbed up to his roofless room, sat on his bed facing the sky, and pulled out his phone. Once again, Rosamee's voice broke through the silence. The villain let his body relax, cooling off as though he'd been dropped into cold water.
The emotions swirling through him settled into one.
Comfort.
~The Grubs, Warehouse~
The young man brushed the dust off his jeans. He stood in the back room of his gang's hangout and "workplace," finishing up before opening the door to an unwelcome guest.
The woman stood with her arms crossed, her hair tucked behind her ear, revealing the long burn scar on her face. Felix gave a joking smile. "You're not Mercy."
The woman, Octavia, let out a low grumble and rolled her eyes. "Why would you invite that bitch?"
Felix smiled and welcomed his older sister into the small room. "I like her!"
Octavia came in and sat in the chair beside the desk in the middle of the room. She said nothing else, her head down, her face a mix of annoyance and discomfort. Felix rolled over on his spinning chair, pushing himself toward the closed-off shelf that held the reason for his older sister's visit.
Felix pulled out the pouch and set it in front of his sister. Leaning back into the chair with a smug, relaxed expression, Octavia raised an eyebrow. Felix motioned to it with his hand. "That's it."
Octavia made a face. "Have you tested it out? It looks too small to do as much damage as you explained."
"Oh yeah, we tested it on a rat who kept spreading lies about Pierce. And trust me, it worked a lot better than I imagined." Felix spun in the chair, a smile clear on his face. Octavia asked a question, ignoring the fact that her stomach flipped in knots at her little brother's expression. "The reaction is hard to explain. You'll have to see it in action to understand the full effect."
She looked up at him, fear behind her eyes. Felix tilted his head. "I have someone we could use—"
"No," Octavia replied quickly, closing her eyes.
Felix looked back at her, dumbfounded. "Isn't that why you're here?"
"It—" Octavia thought for a second. Knowing Felix would jump and overreact in a way that scared her, she gave a tight smile. "I want Corbin here to see it with me. We can do it maybe tomorrow, but I just wanted to know how much you have."
Felix relaxed a little at the explanation, pulling the pouch back onto the shelf and waving his hand in front of the window to the small room. The door opened, and a tall, tattooed man walked in. "Yo, Alex, how much is in the back again?"
Alex gave a tight-lipped look, shaking his head as he turned away from the man in the chair. "About two pounds or less. The men are making more, but it takes months for the drug to become fully effective."
Felix spun back to Octavia. "Does that answer your question?"
His sister nodded, her hands sweating but her mind a bit clearer. "Yes," she said, looking up to her brother as he shooed the tall man away. "Are Mom and Azeral in on this as well?"
"Mom knows well and is part of the project," Felix said with a yawn.
"Is... Dad?" Octavia cringed slightly saying the word.
Felix burst into laughter, shaking his hand while holding his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. "D-Dad!? Ha—that old man would spill the beans if we told him!"
Octavia took that as a no. She pulled out the papers filed in her purse and handed them to the laughing boy, who soon let the noise die down. He stopped, a smile on his face as he took them. "Are these...?"
"Half," Octavia replied quickly.
Felix's smile dropped. "Half?" he said rather quickly, his teeth showing as he scanned the top page. "I asked for all his files!"
"Look, that's all I could get! The man could only find those." She put her hands up in defense, and Felix shook his head, dropping the papers on the desk in front of him. "I'm guessing Milo is hiding the rest for his protection."
"That damn sheriff can be so annoying." Felix put his hand on his head, scanning the papers and crumpling them. "I already know this about him!"
He spat the words out, flying off his chair and smacking the papers in anger. He looked back at his fearful sister, who had curled herself up in the seat. "I need to know where he lives! Who he's close to! Everyone knows this!"
"Yeah, and no one knows where he lives, Felix!" Octavia yelled out, shaking her head as she shrank back into the small seat. "That's all I could get—"
"Well, if you want the drug, you have to get everything."
Octavia felt her skin crawl and her eyes shot open, her body rising from the chair with her arms up. "That wasn't the deal, Felix!"
"Deals change," Felix replied shortly, all smiles and joy gone from his face. He turned to his older sister. "Get it all, then we'll talk."
~Formay, Police Station~
The sheriff entered the station hours after the fire incident near Oakway. The men in uniform, exhausted and littered with ash, their limbs shaking, filed toward the changing rooms. Only Jamisen stopped to watch as his sheriff went straight to his desk.
He gulped before stepping forward. "Sir, you can look back after changing. You have cuts on your arms."
"I'll be fine," Milo grumbled, his eyebrows drawn deep in thought—or so Jamisen assumed, when really the sheriff was simply angry. Pissed and disappointed in himself, he huffed while shoving papers around.
Jamisen sighed, turning to the doors at the back where the lockers stood for the uniformed men. He left the blond to his hustle. Milo didn't know what he was looking for, but he needed something to keep his mind off the hero. He couldn't help but feel angry at the man; he had tried to be more open and willing to show him all the cases, yet Oxzy had given him nothing in return. The least the hero could do was listen to him. Even though Milo had decided not to be forceful anymore, he still felt unnerved by Oxzy's rejection.
How could he react any other way? He didn't like feeling angry at the beautiful man, so he focused on the work in front of him—focused his anger on Pierce's doing instead.
People in this town looked at Oxzy with frustration over the messes, directing their anger at him instead of at Pierce, the man who had started it all. Milo didn't want to be like them. He had feelings for the hero; he wanted the man to trust him, to see him as different. So he had to be different.
He wouldn't make the hero do things he couldn't control.
But he wanted something in return.
His hand stopped right above a paper he recognized. The pile on his desk consisted of recruits to fill Ronny's spot. He hadn't taken the time to look through all of them, too focused on Oxzy. Now that he wanted a distraction, the blond sat down and studied the information in front of him more closely.
He pushed aside papers with little information, sliding the ones with good looks and solid backgrounds under his elbow. Only two papers remained in front of him. He skimmed the information once again.
One man stood out to him. His lips formed a tight line as he tried to figure out why the man seemed out of place. Compared to everyone else, he fell right in between—not too much information, a decent background, and a fair amount of past experience.
He was the best option.
Milo decided he had to give the guy the position. He shook off the nagging thoughts whispering doubts in his mind. Someone needed to fill the spot quickly; the station was losing focus, and now that Milo had redirected his attention to his duties, everything became clear.
He stood up, walked into the lockers, and called out for the man. He held the papers in his hand as he walked past his officers, who nodded respectfully while dressing. He spotted the man near the end of the lockers, turned on his heel, and called his name again.
Jayce Keel stood at an average height, with dull ginger hair shaved underneath and a neat smile on his freckled face. He looked clean and proper, as if ready for anything—and he was ready when Milo called for him. Jayce stopped talking, faced Milo, and narrowed his eyes, waiting for a command.
"Yes sir?" He stated, nodding to Milo.
Milo felt himself smile, seeing someone promising. "Are you up for becoming the third in command?"
The words made the young officer's eyes widen, and he earned some 'whoops' and 'awes' along the walls. His lips turned up and his eyes shined. Seeing the attention on him, he nodded, straightening his back and focusing on Milo only. "It would be an honor, sir!"
"Good," Milo replied. "You have a meeting with me tomorrow morning. I hope to see you ready, bright and early, officer Jayce."
"Yes sir!" His voice was firm and proud, a light smirk on his freckled face as he watched the blonde officer leave the room. His thoughts were anywhere but there.
~Cleoi, Oxzy's apartment~
The man stumbled down onto the end of a ramp that led to his small living room. He slipped, caught himself on the railing, turned down the steps, and quietly traveled to his window.
He made it there quietly; no one saw him, so he was safe. He opened the unlocked window and tumbled inside. His feet caught him, bracing against the couch that lay in front of the open window.
Oxzy was now inside, limping his way to his room. He turned the light on to find his way to the twin bed in the middle of the small room. The fluffy cat with a pink collar slumbered silently on the gray covers. Her ear twitched when she caught the scent of her master.
Oxzy felt his lips curl up at the sight of his cat stretching and waking. She sat up, leaning her head to rub against the finger he held in front of her. He rubbed under her neck and kissed the soft kitty on the head with a small smile.
No matter how much he wanted to collapse onto his bed and sleep for years, Oxzy knew better than to do so. If he went to bed now, he would fall asleep before cleaning himself up, and he would regret it in the morning. So, as slowly as he could, Oxzy made his way to the bathroom connected to his room and began to undress.
Blood and rips in his skin ran all over his body. Most were old, a few were new. The hero ignored the marks that held memories he wanted to forget and turned on the shower.
Afterward, it took him almost half an hour to get ready for bed. He bandaged his new sores and cuts so they wouldn't become infected, then fed Kamari and fixed up her cage, since she had begun to rip her bedding once again. That made the hero smirk; shaking his head, he filled her bowl with pebbles and dried fruit.
The sound drew the drowsy kitten forward. She put her head near the cage, sniffing and nudging at the rodent's food. Oxzy noticed and chuckled, seeing that Kamari allowed it. The fluffy rat let the cat sniff at her food while the owner lifted the cat by her belly and away from the cage.
He set her down beside his nightstand, where she had her own food and water bowl tucked in a small cabinet. The cat ate her meal while Oxzy returned to Kamari, closing the cage but leaving it unlocked so the rat could leave whenever she wanted.
He knew that if Kamari were "trapped" in there, she would grow bored, which led to the torn bedding. He trusted Cirilla May not to attack or hurt the creature, since she had never shown any signs of aggression toward any living thing. What he didn't quite trust was Kamari near his bed.
So, as long as he remained there, sleeping on his mattress, the rat wouldn't climb onto it. Each night, he let her out to roam freely with Cirilla.
Finally dropping onto his bed, left messy from the cat's lazy sleeping, Oxzy let his whole body and mind rest. His body relaxed quickly; his arms lay limp beside him as his mind wandered through the silence around him.
Waiting…
Waiting for what? What did he want at this moment?
He grumbled to himself, wanting only to sleep. That was what he wanted, what he needed. But, of course, it would not come when he needed it most. The hero longed for a break—a break from the outside world, from the memories of trauma this town had given him without a care.
Thanks to his growing anger and grief, Oxzy's thoughts drifted subconsciously to his mother. His beautiful mother had been God's gift to this cursed place he grew up in. The only good thing to come out of this town was his mother; Genna was everything he wanted to be.
Kind, loving, faithful, pure, and most of all, honest.
Genna had believed her son embodied all of it. Only he wasn't honest at all. He hid his real thoughts, his true feelings. The villain would laugh at him, hurling words dripping with mockery each time he opened his mouth.
Thinking of the villain, Oxzy growled under his breath as the man invaded his thoughts. Pierce always found a way to creep into his mind at the most unwelcome times. The worst part was that Oxzy didn't know how to stop thinking about him.
Even though Oxzy hated and despised the man with spiky red hair and inked arms and neck, he couldn't keep Pierce off his mind. It was something Oxzy remained very cautious about—he had to remember that Pierce existed at all times. The evil man could start anything, at any moment, just as he had today.
Out of nowhere, Pierce had started a fire and burned people. For what reason?
Boredom? Probably.
No matter how much Oxzy tried to believe that Pierce's actions carried deeper thought, he didn't even believe himself.
The villain was unpredictable, and above all, crazy in every sense of his twisted mind.
Oxzy felt his sore body flinch. Thinking back to their fight, the crude comments the man had made during their tussle made him flush. Pierce always found the worst things to say at the most unbelievable times. It completely threw Oxzy off guard, every time.
Even now, away from the fight, he couldn't help but think back to that moment—to those words and that infuriating smile Pierce had given him.
His body began to grow hot, something stirring uncomfortably below.
Oxzy's eyes shot open at his body's reaction. Sitting up straight and fast, he welcomed the aches and protests from his sore muscles.
Stop it! He cursed himself, looking down at his pants, unable to believe he had reacted this way. He immediately pulled his forearm close and used his hand to scratch and tear at his skin, letting the pain shoot through him—which was exactly what he wanted.
Pain.
Pain to drown out his body's disgusting reaction. Not only was he growing hot at the thought of a man touching him that way, but that man was the villain—the very cause of his miserable life. It was unspeakable; Oxzy knew the gods, or anyone, would recoil in disgust at his body's lewd response.
Even with the pain, Oxzy still felt tense. He decided to blame it on being pent up and alone for years. He hadn't had a partner or slept with anyone in ages, and because of that, he had grown sensitive to the slightest thoughts. It wasn't an excuse, but the hero refused to give in to shame and release himself.
No way would he entertain thoughts of the villain, let alone act on them.
Pierce was the insane one—not him.