ikikouchiha9668
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Chapter One
I lie in the pain. I gasp for breath, watching as the love of my life smirked evilly to himself. He leaned in to my face, pecking a quick kiss on my lips.
“That’s for the other night.” The night right before I got into this mess. Right before I knew what a lying jerk Ron really his.
“Get away from me.” I rasped out. My lungs stung from the first letter, but I had to spit it out.
“I can get as close as I want to.” He let his scrubby face scrap my neck as his lips dragged slowly across it. Last night, that felt like heaven on earth, but now it feels like poison to my body, sending it numb.
“Oh, Elaine, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to screw with bad boys?” His body slinked away from mine, leaving a musky smell after him.
“You’re about as scary as a kitten.” My lungs ripped, and I flung my head against the dark metal of the chair,
“But I’m a pretty scary kitten, baby doll.” His scarred hands jerked the lever that hung dauntingly over his shaggy head and unshaven face, and my body cleft in the jolting pain that impaled my shivering body. Everything faded in the agonizing pain and my own blood running through my quivering fingers.
“Hello…? Are you awake?” A rough voice called through my aching head. A penetrating pain rippled through my body. No matter the pain, instincts kicked in. My hand instantly swept roughly across his cheek. I throbbing pain heaved through my wrist up to my shoulder, and my arm instantly dropped in pain.
“C-careful. You’re not supposed to move so much.” The blazing hand mark that strode on his cheek stunned him.
His dark coco hair fell roughly over his mossy green eyes. The gold-skinned face had splotches of dirt on it.
“W-who are you?” My sore hand gripped tightly around a broom that leaned against the wall closest to my bed and aimed it at him like a sword.
“Matthew Irons.” He raised his arms over his head, defensively.
“How did you find me and what do you know?” I dragged the broom’s end under his chin, examining his face.
“I found you behind a bush, and nothing other than you need to take a shower.”
The end of the stick twirled around my fingers, the bristles clumping his head.
“Ouch! That hurt.” His hand flicked to his wound.
“Then you should learn to treat a woman.” Pain pushed aside I look in the mirror to my left. My once smooth dark curls now puffed over my head like a lion’s man, completely untamed. Blue eyes like the lapping ocean held a weak tint to them. Plenty of scars covered my face, the rough stitches stung my body, my clothes felt like heavy metal on my weak frame.
“Do you have a name?” His gentle tone echoing in my head. I glare at him like he just insulted me.
Yes, he did save me (I think), but, after all the traumatizing boy drama, I doubt I’m ever going to trust another guy again. No matter how cute, or nice, the scars still hurt.
“Are you hungry?” Silence called back at him. “Thirsty? Cold? Hot?” Matthew rummaged for excuses to get me to speak. He didn’t quite understand that I wasn’t going to talk.
Stupid boy.
He pressed forward, not silencing till I answered. I sighed. “Elaine Valentine, very, very, no, and no.” I flung the covers over my head, wishing he would get the hint I don’t want to talk.
“What to you want to eat? My mom said soup was best, but I don’t know if you like soup. Do you-”
“JUST GET ME SOME SOUP!” My head pounded, body throbbing. I gripped my temples.
“Oh my god!” Matthew’s hands fiddles were I hurt the most. “Y-you’re bleeding! Mom!”
An older woman, in her late forties, shadowed through the holes in the quilt. Her gasp pulled at my ears. Mrs. Irons gracefully yanked a needle from her bag. I squealed, half from pain; half from my fear of needles.
“Hush, child.” The tip of her needles poked at my skin. “This won’t hurt a bit.” Panic filled my mind, but I fell into a deep nothingness.
A dark abyss surrounded my exposed self. Films strips swung around me. Some from when I was a little kid, my mother and father, my cat, pictures of my house. My body jerked in another direction, facing another strip of films.
A boy, Matthew, sprawled on the couch, kissing me passionately. I looked stunned, but only I would notice my crimson cheeks. A line forward, a baby girl with sage green eyes and dark unruly hair smiled up at Matthew and me.
My future lay ahead of me. My numb body reaches out to touch the films. It warps me into a dark hole, and I’m suddenly on back on the bed. Matthew on my left, and Mrs. Irons on my right, preparing my wash cloth.
“Mom, she’s awake.” I moaned, but my eyes locked shot, begging not to show any signs of weakness.
The films burned my brain. Matthew and I…never. I would never fall for such trickery of men. Those immature control-freaks didn’t deserve to be in my life, therefore Matthew will not be my beloved.
“Oh! Elaine, darling, did you strain to much? All of your stitches popped open.” A damp cloth draped on my sweat bound forehead. Her blue eyes smiled sweetly. Smooth brown hair trickled down her back.
“I-I guess.”
“She did scream right before she passed out.” Matthew glanced at his mother, trying to help me.
“Matthew.” He stared at me, worryingly griping my hand. “O-Ouch.”
“S-sorry!” His hand dropped gently following on the silky bed.
“When can I-” My question was silenced as the window shattered. Four bulky men with (probably) loaded AK 47s burst through the window, cutting me soundlessly. The men wore badges: Tested Subjects’ Runaway Specialists; the same secret facility Ron worked for.
My back history is kind of a problem. I was once experimented on for my abilities (being able to transform my hands/arms into weapons), and all the needles and alcohol didn’t suit me well, so the T. S. R. S have been after me. I met (and fell in love with) Ron Gio, a dashingly handsome young man that stole my heart, and my freedom. He took me to his agency, strapped me in a chair that was supposed to drain my powers by jabbing barbs into my body that already stung with pain. Only one reason why I never trust guys.
“Elaine Valentine, come with us.” Their robotic voice boomed.
“Why would I-”
“She will not go with you!” Matthew’s voice exploded before mine. He looked strong, but not strong enough to take down four muscle-y men. Their guns aimed at him. It wasn’t said, but I knew, one more step, and Matthew would have forty bullets in his chest.
Aching pain rumbled through me, but I stood, ignoring it. Guns emerged from my hands, and I could feel the cells in my body merging. I felt the metal intertwining with my fingers. I smiled. I love this feeling more than anything else. To see a gun booming in my head, and think ‘that came from me’.
Matthew’s shocked eyes made no effect on how I popped two guys in the head. The other shot at me, powerful bullets pounding on my newly aroused guns. I smirked, feeling the energy pump through me…that is the ultimate feeling of Elaine Valentine. I adore it more than anything, that is something no guy in get in front of.
BAM! BAM! Two limp body’s cracked and fell over, bleeding internally on the tile floor. I glanced around, making sure so weasels escaped my wrath. Smiling to myself, I stretched, guns fading back into elegant hands.
Matthew and his mother were speechless. Big sparkly eyes stared at me with horror; it almost made me uncomfortable. I plopped back on the bed, suddenly feeling relieved. My body didn’t hurt, stitches felt healed. They only thing that startled me the most was that they were scared of me. I knew I was a freak as soon as I could realize it.
“I-I’m sorry you had to see that.” I flushed. My hands fiddled with the rim of the dress that Mrs. Irons let me borrow. “I guess I should be going.”
Matthew’s hand clung to my forearm. His mouth agape from shock, green eyes mossy and wet, tanned-skin. His grey V-neck went perfectly with his pitch-black jeans. “I don’t want you to go. I like you here.” His was memorized my body, trying to decrypt my weird metal abilities.
“I have to go.” I rummaged for my things then remembered I hadn’t brought anything. I shook my head.
“I-if you have to go,” Mrs. Irons gave me a wad full of money. “This will set you off well.”
“I can’t accept this. This is too much.”
“No, really…” Her eyes were sincere and I felt a warm tingling feeling trickled from my chest. My cheeks went red. All this time no one was there to back me up from the agonizing pain when I was in the Lab, but now someone seems to be actually there for me. Even though it may seem like this, I will never let my guard down that much. Maybe I can find things with this family. Maybe I could live with them, but I would also hate to put them in danger. I will be on my own, once again. I don’t care what they say. I shall never ever put someone I care about in danger.
“I’m leaving.” I strode out; nothing would change my mind, I didn’t even look back.
I lie in the pain. I gasp for breath, watching as the love of my life smirked evilly to himself. He leaned in to my face, pecking a quick kiss on my lips.
“That’s for the other night.” The night right before I got into this mess. Right before I knew what a lying jerk Ron really his.
“Get away from me.” I rasped out. My lungs stung from the first letter, but I had to spit it out.
“I can get as close as I want to.” He let his scrubby face scrap my neck as his lips dragged slowly across it. Last night, that felt like heaven on earth, but now it feels like poison to my body, sending it numb.
“Oh, Elaine, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to screw with bad boys?” His body slinked away from mine, leaving a musky smell after him.
“You’re about as scary as a kitten.” My lungs ripped, and I flung my head against the dark metal of the chair,
“But I’m a pretty scary kitten, baby doll.” His scarred hands jerked the lever that hung dauntingly over his shaggy head and unshaven face, and my body cleft in the jolting pain that impaled my shivering body. Everything faded in the agonizing pain and my own blood running through my quivering fingers.
“Hello…? Are you awake?” A rough voice called through my aching head. A penetrating pain rippled through my body. No matter the pain, instincts kicked in. My hand instantly swept roughly across his cheek. I throbbing pain heaved through my wrist up to my shoulder, and my arm instantly dropped in pain.
“C-careful. You’re not supposed to move so much.” The blazing hand mark that strode on his cheek stunned him.
His dark coco hair fell roughly over his mossy green eyes. The gold-skinned face had splotches of dirt on it.
“W-who are you?” My sore hand gripped tightly around a broom that leaned against the wall closest to my bed and aimed it at him like a sword.
“Matthew Irons.” He raised his arms over his head, defensively.
“How did you find me and what do you know?” I dragged the broom’s end under his chin, examining his face.
“I found you behind a bush, and nothing other than you need to take a shower.”
The end of the stick twirled around my fingers, the bristles clumping his head.
“Ouch! That hurt.” His hand flicked to his wound.
“Then you should learn to treat a woman.” Pain pushed aside I look in the mirror to my left. My once smooth dark curls now puffed over my head like a lion’s man, completely untamed. Blue eyes like the lapping ocean held a weak tint to them. Plenty of scars covered my face, the rough stitches stung my body, my clothes felt like heavy metal on my weak frame.
“Do you have a name?” His gentle tone echoing in my head. I glare at him like he just insulted me.
Yes, he did save me (I think), but, after all the traumatizing boy drama, I doubt I’m ever going to trust another guy again. No matter how cute, or nice, the scars still hurt.
“Are you hungry?” Silence called back at him. “Thirsty? Cold? Hot?” Matthew rummaged for excuses to get me to speak. He didn’t quite understand that I wasn’t going to talk.
Stupid boy.
He pressed forward, not silencing till I answered. I sighed. “Elaine Valentine, very, very, no, and no.” I flung the covers over my head, wishing he would get the hint I don’t want to talk.
“What to you want to eat? My mom said soup was best, but I don’t know if you like soup. Do you-”
“JUST GET ME SOME SOUP!” My head pounded, body throbbing. I gripped my temples.
“Oh my god!” Matthew’s hands fiddles were I hurt the most. “Y-you’re bleeding! Mom!”
An older woman, in her late forties, shadowed through the holes in the quilt. Her gasp pulled at my ears. Mrs. Irons gracefully yanked a needle from her bag. I squealed, half from pain; half from my fear of needles.
“Hush, child.” The tip of her needles poked at my skin. “This won’t hurt a bit.” Panic filled my mind, but I fell into a deep nothingness.
A dark abyss surrounded my exposed self. Films strips swung around me. Some from when I was a little kid, my mother and father, my cat, pictures of my house. My body jerked in another direction, facing another strip of films.
A boy, Matthew, sprawled on the couch, kissing me passionately. I looked stunned, but only I would notice my crimson cheeks. A line forward, a baby girl with sage green eyes and dark unruly hair smiled up at Matthew and me.
My future lay ahead of me. My numb body reaches out to touch the films. It warps me into a dark hole, and I’m suddenly on back on the bed. Matthew on my left, and Mrs. Irons on my right, preparing my wash cloth.
“Mom, she’s awake.” I moaned, but my eyes locked shot, begging not to show any signs of weakness.
The films burned my brain. Matthew and I…never. I would never fall for such trickery of men. Those immature control-freaks didn’t deserve to be in my life, therefore Matthew will not be my beloved.
“Oh! Elaine, darling, did you strain to much? All of your stitches popped open.” A damp cloth draped on my sweat bound forehead. Her blue eyes smiled sweetly. Smooth brown hair trickled down her back.
“I-I guess.”
“She did scream right before she passed out.” Matthew glanced at his mother, trying to help me.
“Matthew.” He stared at me, worryingly griping my hand. “O-Ouch.”
“S-sorry!” His hand dropped gently following on the silky bed.
“When can I-” My question was silenced as the window shattered. Four bulky men with (probably) loaded AK 47s burst through the window, cutting me soundlessly. The men wore badges: Tested Subjects’ Runaway Specialists; the same secret facility Ron worked for.
My back history is kind of a problem. I was once experimented on for my abilities (being able to transform my hands/arms into weapons), and all the needles and alcohol didn’t suit me well, so the T. S. R. S have been after me. I met (and fell in love with) Ron Gio, a dashingly handsome young man that stole my heart, and my freedom. He took me to his agency, strapped me in a chair that was supposed to drain my powers by jabbing barbs into my body that already stung with pain. Only one reason why I never trust guys.
“Elaine Valentine, come with us.” Their robotic voice boomed.
“Why would I-”
“She will not go with you!” Matthew’s voice exploded before mine. He looked strong, but not strong enough to take down four muscle-y men. Their guns aimed at him. It wasn’t said, but I knew, one more step, and Matthew would have forty bullets in his chest.
Aching pain rumbled through me, but I stood, ignoring it. Guns emerged from my hands, and I could feel the cells in my body merging. I felt the metal intertwining with my fingers. I smiled. I love this feeling more than anything else. To see a gun booming in my head, and think ‘that came from me’.
Matthew’s shocked eyes made no effect on how I popped two guys in the head. The other shot at me, powerful bullets pounding on my newly aroused guns. I smirked, feeling the energy pump through me…that is the ultimate feeling of Elaine Valentine. I adore it more than anything, that is something no guy in get in front of.
BAM! BAM! Two limp body’s cracked and fell over, bleeding internally on the tile floor. I glanced around, making sure so weasels escaped my wrath. Smiling to myself, I stretched, guns fading back into elegant hands.
Matthew and his mother were speechless. Big sparkly eyes stared at me with horror; it almost made me uncomfortable. I plopped back on the bed, suddenly feeling relieved. My body didn’t hurt, stitches felt healed. They only thing that startled me the most was that they were scared of me. I knew I was a freak as soon as I could realize it.
“I-I’m sorry you had to see that.” I flushed. My hands fiddled with the rim of the dress that Mrs. Irons let me borrow. “I guess I should be going.”
Matthew’s hand clung to my forearm. His mouth agape from shock, green eyes mossy and wet, tanned-skin. His grey V-neck went perfectly with his pitch-black jeans. “I don’t want you to go. I like you here.” His was memorized my body, trying to decrypt my weird metal abilities.
“I have to go.” I rummaged for my things then remembered I hadn’t brought anything. I shook my head.
“I-if you have to go,” Mrs. Irons gave me a wad full of money. “This will set you off well.”
“I can’t accept this. This is too much.”
“No, really…” Her eyes were sincere and I felt a warm tingling feeling trickled from my chest. My cheeks went red. All this time no one was there to back me up from the agonizing pain when I was in the Lab, but now someone seems to be actually there for me. Even though it may seem like this, I will never let my guard down that much. Maybe I can find things with this family. Maybe I could live with them, but I would also hate to put them in danger. I will be on my own, once again. I don’t care what they say. I shall never ever put someone I care about in danger.
“I’m leaving.” I strode out; nothing would change my mind, I didn’t even look back.
