KP - Episode 20 (All-Patrons)

Words Count: 4447

A/N: You guys are smart, probably already figured out what the problem with Julius and Julian is. Don't worry, they're going to fix it soon. Probably another Arc(World) or two.

(Round and round,

The cycle turns,

“I'm sorry, J*l*u*… I'm so sorry…”

The woman- her hair disheveled; her makeup smudged- hugs the boy tightly, sobbing into his shoulder until the tattered, patched up shirt he is wearing becomes soaked with her tears and snots. “I don't even know what to do anymore. Everything I do, goes wrong. I've tried and tried and I just- I can't do it. I'm so sorry.”

The boy, on the other hand, stays perfectly still out of fear.

It's not the first time this has happened.

In fact, it's a frequent occurrence in his life.

He already knows how this will end: She will bawl her eyes out, grow tired, sleep and by the next morning, forget all the things she has said and promised during her drug-induced tantrum. The boy’s far too used to it now, having learnt to numb himself every time it happens. “I have nothing… No one… ”

She stammers, her frame so fragile and exhausted that his mind- mature as it is; as it was forced to adapt- struggles to associate this woman to the one who haunts his dreams, who sends a surge of fear through his system every time he hears her footsteps at the door. Julius knows how this will end, yet he cannot help it. She's still his mother, after all is said and done, and regardless of what she has done; how he has treated him,

There’s a part of him- the stupidest part that adores the woman; that yearns for her affection and approval the same way it does his absent father whom the boy will catch tiny glimpses of partying with his group of friends at the newly-opened Mystic Grills. He will never admit it, not out loud at least, but sometimes the boy can’t help asking himself if he even means anything to the man who played a part in his birth.

“It’s alright, mom. It’s going to be okay.” The words which leave his lips are about as hollow and empty as their fridge or the loads of bottles scattered across the floor, yet he repeats it all the same in a hope it will ease the burdens she carries. Besides that, he is hoping to convince himself too… Convince himself that things will get better, despite being fully-aware it will not… Yet, his voice seems to set off something in her mind, and she beams- whirling from being sad and miserable to happy in an instance. “That’s right! You! I still have you, don’t I?”

It breaks the boy’s heart seeing how starved his mother is for affection, that he never even realizes he's not too different from her. “You’re the best… My child’s the best!” She mumbles sleepily in his shoulder. “You’ll help me, won’t you Julius? You’ll grow up big and strong and successful and take care of mama in her old age, won’t you?”

His brain recoils at the idea, but the boy has neither courage nor the heart to reject his mother outright. Plus, it does feel good to be… Needed. Thus, he pushes it all down- all his dreams; his aspirations; his… Everything. He pushes it down, locks it in a cage and throws away the key.

He can find happiness in other ways…

Perhaps he can even discover a semblance of happiness in making her happy?

The next day he wakes up, his mom’s already gone.

Left alone to prepare for school, finally he collapses. His instinct tells him to let it out- to cry and scream and rage, but- “Boys don’t cry.” Lips pressed thin, he quietly makes his way to school, absentmindedly and nervously chewing on his nails while his teacher- a kind woman in her late thirties- paces the classroom. “Listen up, kids! Today I want you to tell me what you want to be in future… What do you say?”

“”“Yes, Misses H*n*!”””

The children echo excitedly, and one by one, they start to voice their wishes and desires. Some want to be cops; some firefighters or astronauts; many, befitting their age, wish to be princesses or heroes, until it is his turn at last. “J*l*u*… What about you?”

His mouth cracks open, but he immediately swallows the answer that’s begging to be let loose, before ultimately settling for-

“Successful.”

The boy reiterates.

“I want to be successful.”

Brows pinched, their teacher shakes helplessly.

“J*l*u*, that's not–”

She clearly has a lot to say, unfortunately the steely look he wears, deters her from delving further.

“Never mind.”)

The trip back was much faster than I anticipated, probably because the vehicles were picked up by the same aircraft or another model we saw take off earlier.

Still, it was a difficult journey. Hard not to feel the aches in my back when I had to stay completely motionless lest I was detected and all our planning went to shit.

Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened.

It might've been a rocky voyage, but it was relatively uneventful. "Ich kann es nicht glauben… Wir haben es geschafft! Wir haben den verdammten Engel gefangen!"

Another snorts disdainfully.

“Welcher Engel? Er ist nur ein schmutziger Mutant.” A third voice echoes while I shift uneasily in the back pocket in an attempt to stretch my legs. “Denkst du, wir werden großzügig belohnt?”

Then, a fourth soldier joins in the conversation, his gruff tone silencing the rest. "Unsere Belohnung besteht darin, der Großen Sache zu dienen! Frag nicht nach mehr!" Peeking out from inside the pocket, I am greeted with a stunningly sterilized expanse. I count at least four, five of similar-looking aircrafts either being manned, worked on or left unattended. ‘Holy–’

‘Shit…’

I click my tongue. ‘Don’t finish my sentence for me! We’re not that close!’

‘We’re literally one and the same!’

Scoffing in disgust, I bite back the tirade threatening to burst out of my mouth in the form of frustrated cries and chirps. ‘Coulda’ fooled me.’ Quietly, I slip out- gaze glued the back of our unconscious progeny whom the soldiers are quickly loading up on a sketcher and bringing to a section of the facility.

Then, my eyes move towards a different section where the howls of wild animals can be heard. Blood-curdling cries of tortured beasts which will send chills down anyone’s spine, yet there they are- soldiers and scientists in white coats, each busily pacing back and forth the landing strip.

‘Nanna first…’

The Mask mumbles with a touch of guilt to his voice, prompting me to snort, taking off while no one’s looking.

Gently, I fly into the oversized pocket of a babbling scientist who seems to be none-the-wiser, curling myself up into a tiny, feathery ball until he unlocks the door. A burst of steam is released and using it as cover, I hurriedly go inside. The environment is even cleaner, by some miracles… Every step I take makes me feel like a layer of bacteria is falling off of me, deader than dead.

I don’t know what I was expecting,

But I guess something in line with what we found at the school-turned-mad scientist’s lair where we encountered the Klyntar. Everywhere I look, I see cages containing animals that walk and pace and hit the glass, begging to be let loose and parts of me resonate with them- with their need to be set free- with their fears as the haunting howls reverberate down the spanning hallway.

‘I know you probably don’t care, but these–’

‘They need to be set free.’ I interrupt his thoughts, already aware of what the Mask wishes to say. ‘It’s not right.’ The scent of terror that permeates the air is nauseating, which is weird because that’s what I normally enjoy- love even. ‘I- Did we just agree on something?’

Huffing at the disbelief in his tone, I duck into a random room where I'm met with the sight of a grizzly bear sprawled atop an operating table- its brown eyes full of pleas as it growls weakly, while the surrounding scientists continue to put poisons in its veins. The scene lights fire in my chest.

‘No! We have to get Nanna first!’

‘Screw that!’

Assuming my Human Form, I grab a scalpel from the table and approach the group who are clearly far too busy to recognize the threat to their lives. My eyes remain on the beast's as I stab one of them, hand clutching his mouth so hard his jaws go splat. Only then, do the piles of shit notice my presence… "WER BIST DU? WAS MACHST DU HIER?!" Again, I don’t know German- I don’t know what the idiot is saying, and honestly? I don’t care.

I want them to suffer.

Tearing the skull of the one I am holding, I throw his decapitated, wide-eyed head at the female nurse who’s most likely rushing for the alarm. The impact causes hers to explode in a gory mess, and the rest begins to scream. ‘… What have you done?’

‘What needs to be done.’ Is my reply as I proceed to bath the room in blood and organs, reveling in their sufferings while the adolescent animal trembles frightfully in the presence of a bigger and superior predator. I kill and kill until there’s no one left but me, myself and I… Plus the bear, obviously.

Towering over the animal, which’s a difficult mental image to put to thoughts certainly, I tilt my neck, wordlessly taking off the gauntlets of our Venture Suit.

“Do you want to live?” Carefully… Almost gently, I reach for its snout. The beast looks like it’s starving- dying and those chemicals it’s being injected with don’t help either. “Do you want vengeance?” It blinks, eyes shinning with a nigh human-like intelligence and I wait until it gives its verbal consent, before prickling my finger with my sharpened nail. ‘What are you doing? We don’t have much KP to spare…’

“Hah…”

Laughter bursts out of my throat.

“So much for your claim of moral-highground.”

Bringing my wrist above the bear’s gaping mouth, I smile. “As long as you live through this, you’ll have your vengeance.” The droplet accumulates, sparkling brilliantly under the blinding lights. “This is the biggest Gift I can offer- a chance to survive and thrive. Do not disappoint me.”

It blinks again, as if to say, ‘I won’t.’

The droplet slides down its throat, and as expected, it begins to writhe and squirm in pain. What I hadn’t anticipated is me being thrown in the same situation. “Urgh– What’s- What the Hell–? Argh!” The pain puts me on one knee. Collapsing in a puddle of sweats, I grit my teeth to suppress the agony. ‘This little pain’s nothing…’

I say, although how much of it is true, I can’t tell.

‘I’ve- *Gasp- I’ve been through WORSE!’

Furs start to grow all over my limbs, or more precisely, my body hair is growing until my own appendages are covered in a blonde coat. My ligaments, joints and skeletal structure bend and twist- my organs slushing inside my torso like they’ve been liquefied. “Fuc- Goddammit!” Clenched fists slammed on the floor, creating two craters, I bite my hand and hiss.

The constant Dings from my phone serve only to fuel the pain-induced rage violently coursing through every inch- every cell in my body, yet what accompanies it is a surge of strength. “I- I can do this!” I am getting stronger, faster, more durable- my muscles ripped apart and mended in the same second. “I can do this…”

I repeat the Mantra, feeling a curtain of calmness settling over me before black spots creep into my vision. “I am–” And then I’m gone, flung into the mental prison constructed by Julius. The pain subsides instantly, which I find quite odd. It has always been me to suffer, never the Mask- never the Transcendental-Self. I deal with the hurts, the pains so he can keep going on with our- with his life. Never the other way around.

‘It's okay…’

He says.

‘I got you.’

I’ll never admit it, but the relief I feel in that instance- the relief of for once not being the one who has to put up and tolerate… This on my own, even if the Mask’s just another aspect of myself, brings a semblance of peace, until it doesn’t.

In fact, the feeling terrifies me, because I'm fully-aware how easily and quickly it can be taken away. “No…” I mutter, allowing anger to consume me once more. “I’m afraid of nothing. NOT ONE THING!” My fist slams on the door, resulting in my knuckles bruised and bleeding, and though it may hurt– “It's better this way. Yes, it’s better.”

Simmering, I watch from the inside as Julius rises to his feet. That’s what I hate about him. He doesn't feel; he doesn’t live;

Julius Campbell only exists.

He’s the opposite of everything I stand for…

And when the agony gets too much, just like the shitty drunkard he calls father- just like our piece of shit sperm-donor, he runs… He runs and hides like a fucking coward, forcing me to deal with his issues alone and ignore me even when I scream and beg. He’d rather prioritize the needs of a dead-n’-buried man, the same man who abandoned his children to play father to another- to toy with children's lives in order to give himself a pat on the back.

This small act of kindness does not negate all the shitty things he has put me through just so he can play pretend at being the bigger man.

The moment I get comfortable, he will deprive me of it, I know.

It has happened more than I can count.

He’s not doing this because he feels for me, he's doing it because he feels obligated to- because that pathetic alcoholic wants him to.

“Fuck you…”

Yet, the burning sensation remains dimmed,

And I hate it.

I hate not having my anger,

Life’s just so… Meaningless without it.

“What’s this wishy-washy bullshit?”

My fists collide with the wooden door again.

“I’m not a fucking pussy!”

— POV: Change —

This is the first time since… Forever I'm in so much pain.

My mind immediately whirls for a solution; to suppress the feeling until I become numb to it, but I cannot. Not when I know the one to suffer will be Julian, asshole he may be. Father says it himself, “Nobody deserves pain.” The most evil are more often than not the ones suffering the most, physically or mentally- the majority both. At a certain point, it becomes so difficult to bear that many harden their hearts and grow cold- distant- angry, or seek the worst possible option: Suicide.

The truth is, nobody wants to die, but the idea of continuous suffering feels even worse- that feeling of hopelessness…

It’ll override everything else.

If my hypothesis is true- if every time I numb myself to the pain, Julian has had to deal with it, then it’s only right and fair he despises me. I want to tell him, “I’m sorry”, yet the no word will leave my mouth; no thought will reach him… I don’t even know why either…

I just, I can’t apologize to myself.

The idea of acknowledging his- our pains feels foreign to my mind.

Maybe he’s right,

“Maybe I am a coward…”

With bloodshot eyes, my head snaps towards the writhing bear whose once small frame begins to grow larger and more muscular by the second. The pain’s there, its ever-present, but it’s nearly as bad as I had thought it would be. My jaws snap and elongate- my nostrils releasing a wave of shifting smoke similar to how our transformation usually goes until I’m on all fours.

Hands and legs turn to paws;

I snort to rid myself of the wetness on my nose and come to the realization that: Yes, I am now indeed a bear. ‘So that’s how my powers work. I like this.’

The things I said about lame superpower earlier, I take it all back. Flexing my paws which are coursing with a strength that makes me feel unstoppable, I wave once- creating a powerful gust of wind. ‘Scratch that, I love this.’ Slowly, I shrink- vision shifting from until I no longer feel the prickling pain behind my eyes caused by the blinding white lights. Back in the Venture Suit, I smile, walking towards the bear strapped on the table who, instead of snarling or growling, jumps off.

(S)he looks at me, seemingly confused;

Sniffing several times, the bear then rubs its head against my chest- effortlessly ripping its restraints away. “Hey there!” I scratch its chin. “So, are you a girl or a boy?”

The bear snorts, lumbering towards the door.

It can probably break the reinforced lump of metal with a hit, instead it glances back at me with loving, expectant eyes- similar to how a child will look at his/her parent. “… I guess it does make me your surrogate father, doesn’t it? Alright…” I nod at the grizzly. “Wanna help me save your brother and sister?” Immediately, the bear perks up at the sounds.

“Hmmm… We can’t keep calling you bear, and I don’t wanna check your gender either.” Scratching the underside of my helmet, I click my fingers. “I know! How about… Blake?”

The newly-named Blake jumps on their hind-legs, waving their paws around.

I have learnt about bird and parrot behaviors, not bear, but– “I reckon you like it?” They rub their head against my chest, tongue flicking up to their dry snout. “Alright… Let’s do this.”

Leaning against the door, I peek out, expecting to find a group of soldiers stationed outside, but there’s none. I suppose within this kind of environment, a scream here; a yelp there are usually nothing to concern yourself with unless the alarm’s actually pressed.

Retrieving Nanna’s favorite handkerchief, because parrots are just weird like that, I put it to Blake’s nose, asking. “Can you follow the scent?” The grizzly gives me a confused stare, so I do as I did training Nanna, sniffing the piece of cloth as an example before offering it to the bear.

Pressing his snout on the tattered cloth- courtesy of the mini-dinosaur I picked up by the way- Blake shakes a bit, then rushes out alone, their huge frame crashing through a section of the wall. Needless to say, I’m left speechless, blinking owlishly as screams- humans’ begin to resound down the hall.

“… There’s a door right here.” I remark, shrugging as I assume my more feathery form.

Clinging to Blake’s hind-legs, I stare in disbelief as the grizzly bear rips through a horde of screeching humans- their faces, even as their corpses get trampled to paste, are stuck in a muted scream. Bile threatens to spill from my throat, not because I feel pity for these people, but because I don’t.

In seconds, we reach where Nanna is.

Regardless of the location or change in tune, I will recognize those distressed screeches anywhere. Bursting through the door, I see Nanna- much like Blake earlier- strapped to the table, her toothy maws snapping at anyone who dares to get close until a zap of electricity causes her whole body to seize, her chirps growing weak.

(The table shakes, and the vase tumbles off…)

People who don’t have pets; who do but simply don’t consider their pets a part of the family will never understand.

(It hits the ground with a loud crash.)

I walk towards them, gesturing for Blake to stay back.

“They’re mine.”

(Struggling for breaths, the boy flails about, grabbing one of the shattered fragment and stab it at the assailant’s neck.)

It doesn’t take them long to notice my presence, to which I respond by revealing my prize-winning smile. “Hello there, fellas… I believe you have something of mine. Care to return it?” Wasting no time, one rushes to the alarm, as if they can instinctively feel it- the unbridled wrath coursing through my veins, one that overrides my rationality completely and utterly.

(The boy listens as the shadowy silhouette chokes and gargles, stumbling back while clutching her neck. Before today, he would never have thought he’s capable of harming someone so severely, yet here he is.)

Nanna, having noticed my presence, hurriedly and desperately screams, as though trying to tell me all the grievances she's suffered at their hands. Her cries make my heart pulse wildly in my chest and–

(The rage inside him doesn’t subside.

It’s like he has lost the ability to numb himself, and all that’s left- all that remains within is a raging flame seeking to consume everything that dares stand in its way.

“You- You!”

The assailant’s voice sounds oddly familiar,

He’d have checked usually, but he doesn’t want to, knowing full-well the knowledge may prevent him from going through with this- from going through with making them pay.)

The first thing I do, is grab the bastard’s face and putting it in the string of energy which is keeping Nanna- the last family member I have imprisoned. The energy peels the skin off his cheek, splitting his face in two. ‘Am I Julius or Julian?’ The thought prickles at the back of my mind- a nagging feeling I promptly ignore.

(He doesn’t stop even as she screams,

He doesn’t stop even as she hits and punches and kicks,

The pain only stokes his irrational anger further. “Why do I have to suffer?”

He asks, the fragment held loosely between his fingers as he beats up the assailant, the sharp piece ripping up her face until he’s drenched in the precious liquid.

“WHY DO I HAVE TO PAY FOR YOUR MISTAKES?!”)

‘Who am I? Julian, are you there?’

I ponder, all while breaking limbs, tearing heads and ripping off skin. “How dare you? How dare you touch what's mine?”

What Blake did to the other scientists doesn’t even come close to what I’m doing to them. The grizzly wants to kill their enemies, I want them to suffer, leaving them to bleed out on the floor- forcing them to experience the sufferings they’ve inflicted on Nanna. The scene appears to terrify Blake and Nanna, both of whom are uncharacteristically silent after witnessing my violent rampage… Alas, the velociraptor coos softly, her trills breaking me out of the haze I’ve fallen into.

‘I’m okay…’

I can seemingly hear.

‘I’m okay, so please stop. This isn’t you.’

But it is me.

This is who I am,

A wrathful thing who’s bound by one thing and one thing only.

Nanna’s my bottom-line, and they crossed it- Nay, they fucking obliterated it. It has been what? Half a day, and I can see the stress-lines on her feathers. I took care of her better than I do myself, and they may have ruined it in a day. "STEHENBLEIBEN!" The word has barely escaped the soldier’s lips when a sharp scalpel impales him- penetrating his forehead. The rest looks horrified, “Mutant! Er ist ein Mutant! Holt das Powered-Netz!”

My eyes scan the room, and I idly note the panel on the left- sparkling with electricity. The cords are connected to the operating table, and are most likely what which supply energy to the malleable, energy restraints containing Nanna. Drawing my Plasma Cutter, I aim for the cords. Shooting the panel may just cause the whole thing to malfunction and worsen her situation, the cord is a better- safer option in comparison.

Immediately, my lovebird breaks free.

I was afraid Blake and Nanna would fight, but my worries prove unnecessary when the two join forces to make quick work of the soldiers in mere seconds. Their powered-suits are about as effective as wet-tissues against the animals’ talons/paws and fangs. The headlights switch to a blinking red, which in all honesty will only work in opposition to their attempts to capture us.

“Wait…”

I whisper, hands reaching for my optics.

“Why can I still see perfectly?”

Yes, my sensory perception has been enhanced through the roof- to the point I can kind of see in pitch-black darkness, but this is something else. From the corner of my vision, I notice tiny thin strands of fur sticking out of the segments in my customized Venture Suit. “This is–”

Prying open my gauntlets, I realize my forearms have been… Changed with pulsating veins and a tuft of blonde fur on each side; my fingers too have grown… Meatier, the complete contrast of the lanky, gaunt things I am used to whenever I draw upon the Marker’s powers.

My nails, once neatly trimmed, have turned to curved- silvery scalpels. “Is this–”

My surprise shatters the tight hold of the burning sphere within the cavity of my chest, and I feel the heated emotions fade away right alongside the Half-Transformation. “Why now?” I question, brows pinched. “What changed…?” For a whole month straight, regardless of what I did or tried, nothing of sort would occur, yet it is clearly an aspect of my powers. “What was I doing wrong?” My mind whirls, but every time I come close- every time I feel like the answer’s within my grasp, it slips away.

It almost feels like I’m grabbing at water. “I’ll figure it out later.”

We are still within enemy territory, Nanna’s wounded and Blake- though seemingly healthy on the surface- is definitely reeling from the aftereffects of the injections. “Nanna, Blake?” The two perk up at the sound of my voice, now far calmer than before, “Release any animal you find.” I won't kill these… People- and I am using the word with a frankly unhealthy amount of skepticism here.

At the end of the day, the ones wronged are the animals, not me so I’ll let them decide what to do with the soldiers and scientists. “C’mon… Let's get out of here.” I shake, transforming into a giant grizzly bear with golden blonde fur and check my reflection. Blood still coats my entire form, giving me an ethereal but raw aura as I lead the way. Casting a glance at my growing family, I charge outside- roaring a warning that the Hydra personnel ignore.

They instantly open fire, their bullets ricocheting off my massive frame and those that do stick, are shrugged off quite easily. Not surprising, given what little I know about grizzly bears.

‘Finally, an offensive Form at last…’

Yes, I’m not going to count Necromorphic Form.

Julian may feel comfortable using it,

But for me, it’s kind of a last resort.

‘Let me take over… I wanna try it out.’

I roll my eyes, ‘Later.’

‘Screw you!’