Preserve Behind the School: Thursday Morning
Victor dove into the cool, clear water, fish scattering as his body startled them from sleep. He was naked, he knew, but he didn't care. The water felt good across his skin, almost caressing him like his mother used to when he was a child. In fact, the more that he glided beneatht he water, the more that the lake seemed like a womb, wrapping around and cradling him. But soon it was time for air, and Victor began to make his ascent.
But he could't move. The cradle held him tight, regardless of his struggles. He was losing air fast, and soon his body tried to breathe in more. But he was drowning...drowning...drowning...
Victor woke with a start, and took in a deep breath. Or, at least tried to. A green plastic bag was covering his face, and he was suffocating for real. He tried to tear the bag free, but his hands just slid along it, like they were covered in plastic, too. He began to panic, and in terror dig furiously at the bag. Suddenly, he felt his fingers and toes explode, and flailed in pain.
This was the end. He was crying and in pain and feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen. In short, he was dying. Scenes flashed before his eyes, and in a desperate act of defiance he clawed at his face again...and broke free!
Air! He gasped it in, and shook with the sheer joy of knowing that he was going to live. His vision sharpened, and as he breathed he looked around for the would-be-murderer. But there was none. Only his friends were there. But what they were doing, he didn't know. There was a rushing sound in his ears, and his sight was blurring again. He wiped his eyes to clear them, and felt something warm and sticky on his face. He pulled his hands back, and was horrified to find them splattered with red. A lot of red. And as his vision cleared again, he could see that ebneath the red was a set of gleaming, black claws.
"What the fuck?" He looked down and saw blood all over him, matted on a thick plastic that cling to his body. No, it wasn't plastic, he finally saw. It was skin. His skin. And finally, it made sense. The weariness, the change that Bridge had talked about.
He had mutated again.
In a panic, he leapt to his feet and ran out of the tent, desperate to be away from everyone and everything. Last time his X-gene had kicked in, he had woken up with green skin and spikes for hair. Just what kind of monster was he this time?
Fresh tears filled his eyes, and he just kept running.
[ooc: Open to people who know who they are]
But he could't move. The cradle held him tight, regardless of his struggles. He was losing air fast, and soon his body tried to breathe in more. But he was drowning...drowning...drowning...
Victor woke with a start, and took in a deep breath. Or, at least tried to. A green plastic bag was covering his face, and he was suffocating for real. He tried to tear the bag free, but his hands just slid along it, like they were covered in plastic, too. He began to panic, and in terror dig furiously at the bag. Suddenly, he felt his fingers and toes explode, and flailed in pain.
This was the end. He was crying and in pain and feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen. In short, he was dying. Scenes flashed before his eyes, and in a desperate act of defiance he clawed at his face again...and broke free!
Air! He gasped it in, and shook with the sheer joy of knowing that he was going to live. His vision sharpened, and as he breathed he looked around for the would-be-murderer. But there was none. Only his friends were there. But what they were doing, he didn't know. There was a rushing sound in his ears, and his sight was blurring again. He wiped his eyes to clear them, and felt something warm and sticky on his face. He pulled his hands back, and was horrified to find them splattered with red. A lot of red. And as his vision cleared again, he could see that ebneath the red was a set of gleaming, black claws.
"What the fuck?" He looked down and saw blood all over him, matted on a thick plastic that cling to his body. No, it wasn't plastic, he finally saw. It was skin. His skin. And finally, it made sense. The weariness, the change that Bridge had talked about.
He had mutated again.
In a panic, he leapt to his feet and ran out of the tent, desperate to be away from everyone and everything. Last time his X-gene had kicked in, he had woken up with green skin and spikes for hair. Just what kind of monster was he this time?
Fresh tears filled his eyes, and he just kept running.
[ooc: Open to people who know who they are]