22 Change in Pace 2
-By the docks-
It was the fourth floor down where the scent of blood was the thickest.
Peter could notice the smell.
He also realized that he was severely underestimating his physical capabilities. He was aware of his potential for physical growth but experiencing it was something else entirely, with Garfield backing him up, his enhanced senses picking up who's where on what floor, and
Peter's thoughts instantly being executed by Garfield without any hesitation they tore their way through three floors in little over ten minutes. The way in was blocked by a pile of crates Peter could find the moment he entered.
Behind them bodies lay here and there, sticking out of broken doors, inside concrete walls from the waist up, one was even hanging by the neck from the ceiling, some sprawled about the staircase growing in pain, some knocked, bleeding from all manner of injuries.
Peter felt slightly uncomfortable with how easy it was to physically destroy grown men armed with guns, bats, metal rods, and bladed weapons. His skills were no joking matter and the ease at which his body carried each movement with the precision of a practiced fighter was rather nerving.
Months ago the very idea of fighting an armed man carrying a fully automatic loaded gun would have left him shaking in fear.
Until now, the only combat experience he had was with fighters from the illegal fight clubs where he reined as both undefeated challenger and champion since he beat the previous champ, One Ms. Colleen Wing. He should have known that normal thugs with guns would fall short when compared with the skilled battle-frenzy fighters who fought for money and entertainment.
They were easy peaking, their reaction time was slow, their movement flimsy, full of opening, and predictable, making it laughable how cocky they were and how fast their tones changed when he ripped that look out of their faces. Room after room, down the dimly lit corridor then down the stairs, and finally reaching the metal door that stood between him and that thick scent of blood.
He hated to admit it, the fact that he found the smell disgustingly delicious.
'No Peter no…calm down, deep breaths' The scent of blood was throwing him off. That blood bank idea seemed really appetizing right now.
'Hot dogs, Pizza, brownies, think Pizza, think chocolate cookies, wheat cakes, meat pies, chicken wings and tomato sauce, red dripping, tomato sauce…and shit…this isn't helping.' His hands instinctively came up to his mouth as he walked past the corridor towards the metal door separating him from the object of his twisted fascination.
He was unsure whether to hurl from this craving or salivate from the disturbing discovery that he found blood sweeter than pizza right now.
Garfield wasn't helping with all the chewing sounds coming from what the cat was doing back there…
'Wait chewing? Dammit.' Peter palmed his face as he turned to confirm his thoughts.
"Garfield, No, Garfield, cut that out, spit, spit that out, bad kitty, let the man's arm gooo!" He had to pry the cat off chewing some random arm, the owner of said arm already passed out.
Garfield let out what could only be described as a ticked-off sigh as he spit a finger out. The cat gave Peter an accusatory glare as if to say.
'As if your one to talk, damn human master and his rules'. The cat took a whiff of the air and communicated to Peter what its acute sense picked up.
Garfield informed him of the last few groups that stayed hassled behind that door. Peter was sure they had all their guns pointed at the metal door.
They knew he was coming, but he made the mistake of not cutting out power, not to mention the security cameras, a thought to Garfield helped him there, and the cat managed to take out a few of them before any clear images of him could be captured. With that a new plan came into being, Garfield went in to take out the cams, distracting them and drawing their fire. Once the cams were down, Peter came in to clean up after them. Using a pile of carts to keep the doorway was actually well thought out.
With all things considered this was not bad for his first night out.
Peter gave himself a pat on the back for this one. By the time the other guards came in it's be too late.
Peter pulled his arm back, straining his muscles, fist clenched, knees apart. One foot in front of the other, a form for optimizing attack power into a single violent hit. How he knew that he choked it up to his ability.
"Knock, knock, who's there!?" After taking a deep breath he let loose.
The door, flew off its hinges, violently crashing into crates on the other side, taking a few gun man it it.
The potency of the scent caught Peter off guard. He was frozen for a moment before instincts kicked in.
The room on the other side was spacious with a single corridor leading to the end where there was another spacious room
"Yikes! Ha! Missed me! Jeez…easy with the pew pew gun, Me thinks you might kill someone! "He ducked to the side as a volley of bullets shriveled up the corridor accompanied by a range of colorful insults.
Garfield shifted its mass, its fur changed color, muscles contracting like fluid under leather skin, solidifying into a large dog, an Irish Wolfhound.
Peter contemplated following his cat on one of his hunts, apparently it ate a dog.
The dog rushed in, and bullets sunk into its biomass doing no damage at all, let alone slowing him down as it took a bite out of the nearest gunman he could dig his teeth into. Peter followed the instant they diverted gunfire from him towards his feline partner.
His bandages flowed around him providing an extra layer of protection, he used them to his advantage, wrapping around two gunmen, pulling them towards him while simultaneously propelling himself forward.
'Two down, more to go'.
He left them with their heads slammed into the floor, their faces disfigured and bleeding out before moving on to the next one. He outmaneuvered the bullets surprisingly easily, using the walls and ceiling to move around the room.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, that hurts!" Peter willed his bandages to pull another thug which he then sent hurling into one of the many rooms.
Bullets bounced off his skin upon contact, the reinforcement of his skin came from the same ability that left him with cravings for blood. The stung like a bitch but nothing he couldn't handle. His tolerance for injuries crossing his thresh hold for pain was really high and from his recent discovery during his fight with The Abomination, it was growing.
As he fought his way through the desperate thugs, something stopped him in his tracks, one of the rooms was open, the door slightly swinging open, breaking under the force after he kicked a thug into it.
The smell got to him first, then the sight, of blood-stained floors, the dim light illuminated a single occupant situated in the center of the room, chained to a chair was a single person.
She was covered in blood-stained bandages with one of her limbs missing, dark black here reflected against the soft phosphorescent yellow hue the only light source in the room was giving off.
She looked dead inside, as if she just succumbed to her fate, just waiting to die. She had a gag ball in her mouth, but that didn't stop her from attempting to scream the moment she saw Peter.
Tears streamed down her face and she struggled against the chain, the life returning to her previously dead expression.
'That's..that's…why would?…what the hell?.. What is wrong with people, who in their right minds would do something like this?' Peter took a step inside but a single shot rang before he found himself falling limb in front of the horror-stricken girl.
"Fucking freaks! Not so tough no huh? Are you?" the thug whizzed as he picked himself up.
The thug pushed himself up before emptying his clip into Peter's prone form.
The was girl still wailing in her seat. The thug gave her an annoyed glance before shooting her in the head.
"Dumb fucking bitc-ARRAGG!" He turned to find his arm crushed in Peters's palm. He tried prying Peter's hand off but Peter held on tighter making it much more excruciating for the man.
Squelsh!
Peter pulled him close before pulling his mask down and sinking his teeth into the man's neck, he ripped it out and then drank his fill.
The move was unintentional, reflexive, and instinctual on Peter's part. And though he would try to defend himself, to rationalize what he was doing right now, he couldn't deny the relief that flooded through him.
'What is this? what's happening right now? I have to stop…but..Why does it taste so good? This is..human..blood, why does it taste so GOOD!!'
He was drinking blood, human blood, and it tasted euphoric.
He couldn't stop…
The sound of gunshots, screams, and profanities still echoed in the halls. Garfield bites his way through the thugs one man at a time.
'DAMMIT STEP SNAP OUT OF IT!'
By the time he managed to regain control, he tossed the body aside like he'd been burned.
Taking a moment to gather himself from his unintentional loss of control. The man choked on his own blood before seizing all movement.
He sat there for a while as the adrenaline left him.
He just killed a person…Beating them up was one thing, but actually killing someone, he'd never done that before.
'How? How? What did I just do? How? I didn't mean to, he deserved it, that's right, he's a killer, that's all there is to it… I just killed someone, I just killed a person… how did I even do that? I just killed..' he planned to kill before, and he was prepared to do it but now that the deed was done he just had that question. He didn't feel much from this act itself, no sense of guilt, no urge to puke, no shock, nothing…
Clarity settled in as his panic-induced thoughts dissipated. His breathing became calm and controlled.
'What?' he glanced to the side finding Garfield back into his cat, nuzzling against his side. He had forgotten that the cat could do that, calm someone by lessening mental ailments.
'Thanks, bud' Peter gave the cat an affectionate pat.
....
- The familiar will take some of the host's physical pain when they exceed a certain pain threshold and extend an aura of care and relief that alleviates them from stress, depression, and other such negative alignments
....
Peter Calmed his thoughts, Garfield's aura helping him get himself together.
'How is this even possible?'.
Peter knew from his ability that he couldn't take a human life, he could beat them to an inch of life but he couldn't actually kill them. But yet he just killed a man, shakily he stood up and looked at his hands, his lack of emotional reaction could is already explainable.
'But I know I couldn't kill humans so why would this one be different?'
He looked at the corps of the man and then the girl.
'And What kind of human would do this to another human?' He knows about those mass murderers and serial killers, watch a few docu-series on tv about it.
A thought struck him then.
'What kind of human does that? What kind of human…Huh…so that's it.' His ability prevented him from killing anything he 'considered' human, on some level since his aunts went to the hospital, he'd stopped seeing them as human. Fisk and Poindexter, he just considered them an objective, someone he needed to kill.
Now on some level, it extended to this thug, if he could take part in something like this, something within Peter just didn't consider him human anymore, and after coming back in time to watch him kill the girl solidified his fate in Peter's mind.
Peter walked over to her, gently closing her eyes before moving outside the room.
It was eerily silent.
He was starting to have an idea about what was inside these rooms in the corridor.
"I have to say you don't look like some monster mutt to me" A gruff voice called out from the other side of the corridor.
Dressed in nothing but a pair of designer clothing from the waist, from his stylized torn jeans to his custom-made crocodile boots and snakeskin belt. He had a noticeable golden watch with diamonds indented in it, a golden chain around his neck, and slick back blond hair.
He presented himself with arrogance, his mannerisms just screamed entitlement, he was made of money, born into it, thinking that the world was just his plaything.
He held a gun in his right hand and a carving knife in his left.
What was left of him stood behind him in an arc, eight of them, all holding up their weapons at the ready.
"And you are who exactly?"
Peter stopped a few feet from them, the hands of his man were shaking, every time they glanced at the cat next to Peter.
" I am the owner of this here fine establishment, that your FUCKING UP? YOU GOD DAMN FREAK! My name's Teddy Costa, Do you know who I am? who you're fucking with here? Do you?"
"Nope," Peter popped the P for good measure.
" Oh, your dead, dead as door nail you cocky bitch… I'm Hummer Heads Nephew ya fuck wit and My family won't let this slide… but…they ain't here, and I am, So..we can come to an agreement…now amma give you a chance to walk away from here, right now and nothing will happen to you." Teddy brought his gun up in an attempt to look threatening.
" If it's money you want I can provide you that too…So..seeing as we don't know each other how bout you take the deal and we can go our separate ways."
"So, What do you say?" Teddy Asked.
"Who's the girl in the room back there?" Peter took a step forward.
"That, oh that's nobody, just, personal business, the family business you could say…" Teddy's man took a cautious step back, yet Teddy Costa stood his ground.
" And the other rooms? What's in them?"
"That's personal business."
"Personal business…right… Well, I'm gonna have to say no on that deal for personal reasons too, if you don't mind" Peter cracked his knuckles.
"Shame" Teddy smiled at Peter before gunshots went off.
"Light HIM UP!" Teddy shouted as emptied his gun, retreating behind his man.
They made the mistake of letting Peter get too close, it took him moments to close the distance. His bandages grabbed the barrels and diverted them from him.
Garfield simply rushed to the nearest one.
...
It took less than a minute to take them out.
"FUck. Fuck. Fuck. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?" Teddy Costa shouted terrified after emptying his gun into a cat of all things, shooting hysterically at random in panic, terrified at the little creature.
He tried attacking Peter with his carving knife only to have his arm twisted as his bones snapped under Peter's grip.
"You did that to her didn't you, you cut her up and you enjoyed it, didn't you?" Peter asked him, squeezing harder on his broken arm.
"ARRRg.FUck. So what if I did, they deserved it, teasing me like that, the fuck did they think they are, ARRRgs! Shit, FUCK…so WHAt do you even CArw HUh…The fuck are you do—!"
Peter held his hand to the center of Teddy Costa's chest.
Crack!
A palm strike sent Teddy flying across the room like a toy, breaking into a cell at the end of the hall.
" You know I thought I met the worst people around but you, you take the cake" Peter made his way to the psychopath.
"I can't really kill humans you know, but you… you're not human… you don't deserve that right…something like can no longer be counted… as.. one of us….Holy fuck…I know you…What the fuck did he do to you?…"
...
{Integration 50%}
Peter saved Yuriko Watanabe because he felt he needed to. The way she looked, broken bones, bleeding out, struggling to hold on for dear life, pale purple features, just waiting to die.
She reminded him of himself. She brought back memories of the time Spider Women left him for dead in that ally.
The night everything changed.
{Slot 6 active}
So he saved her with a shard. To keep his secret he didn't alter the shard the way he did with his Aunt, the side effect wasn't something he was prepared for but he'd deal with that when the time came.
{Multi-fandom Power Package Uplink Generated}
After giving the order to Garfield he emptied the other rooms. What he saw today changed everything.
Women, their bodies tortured beyond recognition. Some of them were younger than others. He did what he could for them and left before the cops could show up. He made sure to destroy any evidence that he was there.
{Link Forged}
He may have started doing this to get his revenge but now he wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe some people just had to die for the world to be safer. Maybe some people didn't deserve the right to be called human, maybe they didn't have the right to live.
'After what I saw I don't know anymore.' He sighed in frustration.
If he wanted to do this he needed to do it right, make sure nothing held him back, he needed to get everything in order, and sort his shit out. He had to make things right with Gwen, the only person left that actually, probably still cared about him, he had to make things right.
The moment he got back to his makeshift base a migraine hit him, he felt like his mind was torn into with a needle like someone grabbed his head trying to split him in two. Garfield tried to soothe him as best he could.
His hideout only had a few things now, hidden under an abandoned house owned under a fake ID and bought in cash.
Inside, a fridge to the far left next to a makeshift kitchen, a table in the center with a couch in front of a large television complete with surround sound and a gaming system. He stocked up with food and medical supplies.
He was still a teen regardless of his current circumstances.
To the right he set up with a few interconnected monitors on a desk, his own watchtower set up, not yet complete.
Peter slouched on his couch. He was cradling his head in pain.
He knew what this was. He was evolving, another ability was manifesting, and the flow of information that streamed into his mind told him so.
{Commending evolution}
A silent scream tore its way out of his throat.
-Chapter End-
{Slot 5
Fragment Variant: Eco
Host: Mike Higgs
Fable: On-going
Fandom: Movie Verse
World: Iboy
Universe: Unspecified
Tire: D
Class: N/A
Range: Planetary
- The host can remotely connect to, access, and communicate with anything with a chip inside.
Ability Granted to host: IBoy - Digitization
Technopath's mind: The ability to telepathically interact with all forms of technology. This ability allows him to view the world through the lenses of a computer.
Trait evolved: Mask of Innocence>>Mask of the Fool
Mask of the Fool: This trait has both a passive and an active function.
Passive: Fools Bluff
-This trait affects the host mind, allowing it to operate similarly to that of a computer, granting him the ability to instantly adjust to different situations with a calm mind by internalizing his reaction and carefully analyzing everything else, his physical body reflects this. His mind is optimized to an extent. Although he feels emotions and can experience mental alignments such as panic, shock, fear ect… all this is internalized as his outward appearance and expression will always remain calm and collected.
-His physical expression can be altered in any way he chooses with little effort like putting on a mask, which grants the host a limited form of parallel thinking
-Allow the host to fake a state of normality, making him seem as 'normal' as expected of an average human, in this state, all of his abilities will be sealed until he chooses to actively use them. However certain abilities will activate on their own accord in response to the host's needs or protection.
Active: Fools Gambit
This ability allows him to put on the mask in a sense and provide input for a command. Once the command is accepted everything else will be blocked out, his emotions, his thoughts, his personality, pain, everything will be put aside to complete that one goal. His actions will be task-oriented, all actions taken are optimized for the single-minded pursuit to complete the given command.
}
A/N: this will be the last chapter for the week, am working on an update schedule and will post about it in the next chapter.
Note: Any being that shares the moral values of humanity that fit under Peter's perception of a good innocent person falls under this category of being considered human when someone or something doesn't fit that well.
Feel free to leave a comment or review about the story so far.
